I. Hate. Spiders.

I was dashing out the door to my first lesson of the afternoon when my eye fell on the night table. I think I was trying to see the time, but then lo and behold, I see a brown shape (as my darling sister pointed out in HER blog post today, I am perpetually late. I have the best intentions to be on time, but when it comes right down to it, I won't want to spend any more time at work than I possibly have to. So why show up five minutes early when I can be there exactly at 3:30? ;).

Horrors.

I scoot around the bed and yes, it is indeed a two-toned, slightly furry looking brown spider, its long longs a little reminiscent of a daddy long-legs. But it's much less friendly looking.

I. Hate. Spiders.

Now I realize that most of them are probably just as scared of me as I am of them, yada yada yada, but they're creepy looking. I attempt to scoot the thing onto a bookmark (I don't like spiders and yet I'm trying to help this one live? What's wrong with me?). The thing with eight legs panics, jumps onto the bed (MY side of the bed - this is when I scream), and shimmies along the wall to the other side. Drew, who's in the shower, hears me scream and gets worried. Maybe I'm being mugged? Meanwhile, I'm busy bellowing for the cats (they love anything small that moves). While Tuppers and Trix stare bewildered at the floor where brown spider is managing to blend in perfectly with the brown floor, I manage to trap it underneath a glass candle holder. At this point, Drew's out of the shower, wondering in typical guy fashion why I simply didn't smush the thing with my sandal? Not an option, I say.

I make it to my lesson, only a mere three minutes late.

GSWP - Modern day dialogue

FYI, so much more effective if read out loud...

No dialogue happened that day. I flipped pages, she tapped keys. If you don't count our sisters' animated conversation taking place in the other room, that's all the excitement that old porch saw that day: pages flipping, keys being tapped.

Click, clack, click, clack.

Bing! chirped the computer, eager to relay to me that she had received yet another instant message from one of the many friends she was messaging.

I had hoped that a five-year friendship could weather, well, anything. Looking back, I know now that five years is nothing, just a blip on the screen. But back then, it had seemed like forever. We had whispered secrets, compared crushes, and taken family trips together. We had shared a bowl of cookie dough, for goodness sake. Didn't that, above all else, seal the deal?

Bing!

But no. I was nothing to her now.

Click, clack.

Not a jolt, not a bump, not even the tiniest of hiccups on her radar.

Bing!

I was inconsequential, uninteresting, apparently unworthy of even civil conversation.

Clack.

At least my book was turning out to be thoroughly dull.

Bing, bing, bing, bing!

dogs are to mailmen as cats are to...lazy people?

Owning a dog is like being a mail man. Remember the mail man's motto, "Through rain or sleet or shine...?" A dog owner has to be just as committed, just as determined. Pull on those Wellies when it's raining, kids, 'cause the dog ain't gonna walk himself. Is it really snowing outside? Bundle up, because Fido adores a good romp in the white stuff. And don't get me started on walking a seventy-five pound dog up a hill in the August sun...sweat traipsing a slow line on my neck, under my tank, winding its way down just as surely as a roller coaster.

Cats, on the other hand, are all about laziness. They can be lazy, I can be lazy. However, make note that I WILL suffer the consequences of my laziness eventually. Couches sporting a second skin of shed fur after a weekend away? Check. A bedroom door unintentionally left open and kitty wanders in? Check. And then there's the ominous odor of the cat box...check.

I grabbed the familiar Ingles plastic bag, shoved my feet into rain boats, and trudged into feline territory. Nothing doing, the box was full of shit'n piss. Pardon my French. However, the feline population has so perfected their...well, urination, that I believe the substance truly defines the word piss.

Why this particular random reflection today? Well, Drew was at work so I was cleaning the cat box (normally his chore). What do YOU usually think about when scooping poop?

rachel

I did a photo shoot yesterday with Rachel, an old friend from high school. She's finishing up a master's degree at Austin Peay State University in voice performance (did I get that right?) and she's got a recital is coming up (a recital to her = what a senior thesis would be to someone else). She was interested in getting pictures taken for her poster and recital invites, thus the black dress and heels. Props to Rachel for walking all over the Botanical Gardens with bare shoulders and a bare back (AND in high heels!)! We went all over the place - down the stone steps to the creek, zigzagging over soggy turf, and down a rough trail that begged for hiking boots. But it was worth it - I was able to get some awesome pictures of Rachel. ;)

shoes...need I say more?

I bought shoes today. Two pairs. I told the sales lady that it was her lucky day - and not mine - when I decided to walk in. But that wasn't true. The most delicious part of shoe shopping is 1. showing them off to a fellow shoe lover (or to someone like hubby who gets a kick out of your tremendous deal...but more about that later) and 2. trying them on again when you get home.

Asheville folk, check out Christine's Consignment Shop next time you're on Broadway. It's trendy. And as Giedre told me, it's a grown-up thrift store. Their clothes are organized not only according to kind (dresses here, tops there, etc. etc.) but you'll find a section of white, ivory, cream tops and another of just black (perfect for me --> you'll find me perusing the former). Awe-some.

Sweet sweet Guess wedges. I desperately wanted a pair of wedges for this summer and was half dreading/half anticipating the shopping trip for them. I walked into Tops the other day - our local shoe store in the downtown district - and wouldn't you know it, the pair I liked was $130. Uh, no. This pair? A sweet $15!

Have I mentioned that I'm a flat fiend? This store was apparently visited by a girl with my shoe size...I've never seen so many 8-9 size shoes in one consignment store. The color is okay - I'd prefer something brighter or perhaps just plain black - but the style is loverly. And the comfort factor? Bliss. These babies are made by Naturalizer, a pricey brand that's all about comfort. And yes, these flats DO feel a little like walking on $75+ clouds that I got for $15. ;)

knitting - couches = a slightly sore camper

It's only been twenty-four hours but already, I miss owning a couch.

I've been on a knitting rampage for the past five or so hours (I'm very excited about the project, but way too exhausted to rhapsodize on its awesomeness. Also, it happens to be a hush hush thing for the moment). My brain and fingers are tired and slightly numb. First, I sat on an uber uncomfortable kitchen chair (may I add it's wooden?). Even with my feet up on another uber uncomfortable kitchen chair, it wasn't so bad. Than too much time went by and it was b.a.d. I switched to a slightly more comfortable weird chair (I say "weird" because it's low and black and very round and reminds me of something you'd put in a college dorm room) and that helped. A lot. But five hours later, it's midnight and I'm tired. The knitting needles have stopped clicking and are tucked away in their bag.

My country for a couch! We sold ours yesterday for $100 (a spectacularly awesome deal, since I was ready to give them away for free). My new (new to me, used to the original owner) couches should arrive on Tuesday.

This is the blue baby I said goodbye to yesterday. I don't miss them - they were old, very comfortably used, and I was ready to say "Ciao. Enjoy your new owners." But oh, I can't wait until Tuesday.