My feet are gross. And I am not talking modest-girlie-I’m-so-gross-gross. I am talking GASP-too-gross-for-words-gross. I guess its the price I pay for loving to wear the same jank-ass pair of flip flops. Last night, I decided that I was sick of my heels snagging on the bedsheets and being mistaken for homeless people feet so I tried out this new-fangled recipe.
Remove the Homelessness From Your Feet
Prep Time. 5 min / Cook Time. 45 minutes
1. Start with two grody feet.
2. Add the AWESOME magical power of the Ped-Egg. Scrub Vigorously.
2b. There is much ick to get through. See?
3. Sand with a pumice. Repeat with smooth side if necessary.
4. Use a generous dollop of Sara’s Salty Sea Salve.
5. Et Voila! You are now the owner of a pair of non-nomadic feet.
So Ruby said I had body dismorphia because I thought that I was bigger than she was (okay, I have more thighs and she has more boobs, so I guess we even out but I did try on a pair of her pants just to make sure – yay, they fit fine!) But maybe that is why I am having such a hard time with this LD thing… because seriously, it went through my head several times that he just didn’t want to be with me because I was fat or that I was too tall or too loud or that I had saggy boobs (and he even said they were fine) and gross stomach skin. Bleck! (For the record, LD does not think that. He says: “You are funny, smart, witty, insanely sexual and hot and a ton more”) So yeah, OBVIOUSLY, Ruby is right again and I have body issues. That’s why I thought for almost three years “Why would Matt even be with me!! He’s a god and I am a monster!!”
And then it doesn’t help when you finally get over it being about you your friend says that “Well if he loved you 100% then he would chase after you.” Sigh… so now it’s my fault again? I re-read the email. Nope. Nope. Nope. It’s not me. Maybe in the end, though, I am lucky that he is afraid to commit. Maybe it would have been a struggle to keep him from clamming up and I would have spent tons of money in long distance calls and transatlantic flights just to have him pull away from me. Some nights I don’t feel so lucky, but hey, c’est la vie…
And without further ado… I give you your FRIDAY FIVE!!!!!
Facebook Job (oh how I want you…)
Realizing how similar my life is to New Moon
Realizing that the New Moon Soundtrack is awesome!
Having to give up my underwears to my sister
Being close enough to my sister to lend her my underwears
My sciatic pain coming back…
Now I have a good reason to hit the gym!
Team Jacob or Team Edward
Yay – The Kensington House did not make it this week (but you’re always in my thoughts, K House… always.)
Tonight was girl night number #3 at Adelle’s… this time without the babies. After catching each other up on the current events of our life we ate some fajitas and snapped a bunch of rocking photos:
Jess & Liz striking hottness with the Doctor P.
B.A.N.G.S. (hahaha.. except two of us are without them!)
Then we got down to business recording some new music. We worked for a while on the lyrics to my song “Eff the Pants” but when Adelle started strumming this other tune.. we were hooked! We banged out some lyrics and then started singing. We recorded old school (yes, with a tape deck and boom box) for most of the night before we found out that we could record on my Mp3 player. Say whaa? We took three takes and here is our current favorite in its rawest form. Enjoy!!
Lately <<click here for song>>
by D., jessielah, and e. gates
Your touch makes me tremble
Snuggling with you, like my blankie
Holding you close, cheek to cheek
Your soft voice and shy smile
Your eyes see my soul when you undress me.
Your touch makes me tremble… lately.
And with out further ado… your Friday Five!!
Leaving San Francisco
Getting home in one piece
Re-sleep training Jaxon
The Kensington house
$1500 for Gay Pariee!!
Finishing my short story!
Saying hello… to Paris, Edinburgh, London, and seeing Les Miserables!! What? What! Yes! Jessie and Ruby in the HIZZIE!!!
It’s hot. Too hot to be in direct sun without SPF 30 slathered over your limbs. Of course, that is exactly what we are doing. I’m sitting in a bra and shorts. Jaxon has removed everything except his shoes and socks, which are drenched from playing in the water hose. I try to do a crossword puzzle, but the noise from the men across the street is too distracting. I snap photos instead.
Naked Baby Jaxon playing in the water.
Getting an early start on my tan.
The Distracting Workers.
Pretty Garden Flowers.
Heart & Glass design… Hmmm, looks like a dreamcatcher to me!!!
The day settles down into evening. The boys, rested and fed, load up in the car to go to the Kensington House. Now that our tickets are on hold, I need to bust my butt to get the house rented out. The air smells good. Like summer, although it is only March. The breeze reminds me of how much I love San Diego evenings in the summer. Windows down, wind blowing against my warm skin, slightly pink and prickly from being out in the sun too long, my feet dry and clad in worn flip flops… ahhh. I feel free. I am free.
Ever said something and not know it could go two ways? Yeah, it’s that kind of night. Four hours of sleep and a screaming baby will do that to you. If I was a guy that’s how I’d score all the ladies. “Oh, watching your figure? Why not try my nut milk. Only 5 to 7 calories per serving and lactose free.” Heh. Actually I did the math and nut milk isn’t so “lo-cal”. 240 calories a cup? That’s like a meal. Like breakfast. Just need 48 men and a grapefruit.
So most people brag about “getting some”. I get to brag about giving some. To Ruby. In the Ross handicap dressing room. She loved it. This is how it went down:
We went to Ross looking for a new dog dish, because Mylo broke the last one (sigh). I got hung up on $8 swim suits and blue jeans so we ended up dog piled in the handicap dressing room. I was trying on clothes, Ruby was texting and wrangling babies, and the babies were eating things and causing general chaos. I tried on a bunch of suits. They needed to have a tie on the sides because I puddle around the middle. If the bottoms are too tight then its like roll city, but if the bottoms are too big then everyone will get a big old wad of va-jay when I get smacked by the first big wave. So nothing really worked (I guess that’s what I get for trying to buy an $8 suit). I’m getting dressed, Ruby is texting and keeping the boys from eating size tags, and the boys are causing general chaos when something sticks to my hand. Without thinking I slapped it on Ruby’s hand and said “Happy Birthday, here’s some vagina.” Ruby looked down stunned. There was a bathing suit pantyliner stuck to the back of her hand. She screamed. Ruby tried to shake it off, I laughed uncontrollably and the kids were all over the place, still eating stuff and still causing general chaos. I told Ruby that I didn’t use that panty liner, which made her (understandably) more upset. Strange Vagina. Nice. And she was worried about the boys eating size tags and getting germs. Hehehe.
And since I have nothing more to blog about (there is a spoon with ice cream on it calling my name slow-dancing with a half finished glass of wine), I will leave you with a bunch of pictures Ruby took.
Man, it’s good to be back in SF.
I pull up at El Cajon Blvd and Ohio Street and there is a serious line wrapped around the Roberto’s. It’s hands down the best mexican food in town. Beans are salty and delicious, there are vegetables in the rice…. nothing taste like bland lard. Yum. Plus you don’t have to go inside a hot and greasy hole-in-the-wall restaurant with some arcade machine in the corner and a quarter “guess your weight” reader. Drive Thru. AWESOME!
So while I’m hanging out on the side walk waiting, I start getting all melancholy. It doesn’t help that I’m listening to like Kill Me Now Owls or whatever. (Actually the band is Owl City and they are really peppy.) So maybe it’s just me. Basically, I’ve ruined my life. So maybe I wasn’t happy before and that is why all of this was allowed to happen, but I didn’t KNOW that I was unhappy. I actually thought I was LUCKY to be where I was: at home with my boys, spending every day outside in the sun on a swing with a laptop… Sigh. Maybe it’s because I had such a shitty previous 5 years that everything was better than being a down and out starving grad student. I don’t know. I’m like Cypher from the Matrix. Why didn’t I just take the blue pill? Now I’m stuck in the gloomy ass matrix eating slop-amino-soup but I don’t have a Trinity to like be my bad ass back-up lover in leather.
The line moves up an inch, but I’m not close enough to the screen to order. So I start thinking back on other times I have felt this way (like with John from the bank or with Chris G from times long long ago). Okay, it sucked. I wanted to die for a few days, but I sucked it up and got over it. And my life isn’t shit not having them in it. So cool. Right? Easy. Should be. But I have to get over someone who I know felt the same way I did – which is like… a whole new can of beans because the last two people who felt that way about me, one stayed with me for 5 years and the other one married me. So, okay. But let’s say that we get over it because I’m a super-Sara-bad ass. (I’m not, but lets pretend.) I stomp down all these feelings and (very real) thoughts deep down, like a trash compactor and then I am “healed.” But wait, there’s more!! Now I have to re fall in love. So I have to go back in the trash can like an old Chinese lady looking for cans, find the other love, wash it off, stain treat it and see if it’s wearable or if I just destroyed it forever. I guess it can be done. Doctors make money of getting it done, right?
Sigh. Yeah, I’ll take a quesadilla with rice and beans… um, and a can of Pepsi.