Scar? What scar???

Yesterday, among a host of other lazy day activities, I went to get a spiffy new haircut and my eyebrows waxed. I feel so tidy after getting my brows waxed, so was looking forward to it. When my waxer was done, she says to me "I didn't want to go up any higher on your left side because it would expose your scar." Scar???? Below is the image that flashed through my head- me, aging gracefully, looking over the pitiable body of my esthiologist, her foot removed from her mouth only in death, my foot removed from her butt post-ass whooping.

So, I very kindly said "Scar? Really?" Sure enough, she showed me about a small half inch white scar buried in my eyebrow. Who knew? Can anyone recall me bleeding from my left eyebrow?

Why Didn't I think of It?

It is brilliant I tell you.
So today after my kinda crappy week at work was over and having my hair cut and brows waxed, I sought out a massage. I found this pleasant place in Plymouth called The Massage Retreat that could take me on short notice. So, here's the deal- - brace yourself for a bit of marketing genius- - it is a membership based massage / facial / wax joint. The deal is, you pay about $50 a month as a member. With your membership you get a one hour massage of your choosing or facial of your choosing each month. If you don't use it in a given month, it rolls over to the next month. All other services used are steeply discounted (e.g.- a 90-minute hot stone massage for $59. The monthly rate is already about $30 less than I usually pay. How cool is that?? Not only does the business ensure that their massage therapists stay busy by getting people in the door regularly nearly guaranteeing the staff a steady income, the customer who always promises themselves a monthly massage but never gets one actually goes and gets one at a really reasonable rate.
Did I sign up? Uh, yes. And for signing up in August, I got a complimentary 90 minute hot stone massage in addition to my regular monthly massage. Fabulous.

Booty Shaking to Relieve Stress

I know this Jem (no relation to Jewel) song is about two years old, but flopping around to it is really satisfying in a way that is silly and helps me relieve stress.

So, everybody stand up.

Do it now!

Hit play.

When the intro comes on that sounds a little like the Nutcracker Suite, stand on your tip toes (or en pointe if you're really sassy) make ballet arms above your head and do a little string of pearls across the room until the beat starts.

When the beat starts, quickly shift to this pose: stand like Miss Wiggins from the Carol Burnett show, put your bent arms up near your shoulders with palms facing out. Now shake your ass side to side and push your arms out double time. You are now a funky girl! Go funky girl!

When the kids start singing, switch to a Pee Wee Herman dance (like Tequila! only faster).

When the kids quit singing, switch back to above. You'll get a chance in a little bit to revert back to the ballet you did in the intro.

Dance. Repeat.

Fun for me to picture you doing it too.

My Crappy Work Week, or I Hate Having to Work With Others

Just as I predicted, this is not shaping up to be a fun week at work. This after a fabulous weekend in which we hosted our annual "Fall Fiesta". We had about 50 wonderful people over for drinks and a big spread, but more on the fun later. Let's talk about HELL ON EARTH! Could you hear the reverberations when I said that?

So, this is the sweetened condensed version of my previous rant:
Big Deliverable
Big Jerk (not me!)
Big irriation with BJ
Big Shiteous Headache
Big stress.
Big deliverable delivered to boss within minutes of deadline.

Done for now.
Off to Seattle on Saturday.


You know the old job interview answer cliche- "I like to work with people"? I've interviewed a bunch of people, including one this week who said the above. If someone says it and is lying, I can spot them at a thousand yards. I, personally, would never say that in a job interview, not only becuase it is cliche, but because I really don't like to work with people all that much. I have learned to work cheerily with and as part of a team over the years, but much prefer to get projects and deliver, deliver, deliver.

24 years and counting to retirement. Ah.

A Rainy Weekend

It is finally raining! After only 2 or 3 short bursts of rain since June, we have now had two solid days of nicely paced rain. Southern Minnesota is another story where six have died in flash flooding since yesterday. Let's just say I'm grateful for what we got- - which means... the yard and garden should look great for Fall Fiesta next weekend! (Don't say it. I know I'm a little shallow about it.)
Yesterday and today, I've been shopping like mad picking up some outdoor lighting, some decor items, lots of food and lots of beverages. When I got home this afternoon, I multi-tasked. Do two tasks count or does it need to be more than two?. I'm counting it anyway. What, you ask, did I do? I made carnitas, which I am still making now- its a long process- and I got crafty and made some some lovely paisley table confetti and some multi-colored, stunning (?) tissue paper poof balls. Fabulous.
Today I also learned that broken digital cameras can't really be fixed in a way that makes economic sense. That stinks. So, I upgraded slightly from what I had, which wasn't much, and plan to get in some play time with the new camera tonight.
I'm still all creaky and sore today from last week at work. Not sure that the coming week is going to be any better. My boss described a reporting function that I'm working on (and is due on 8.30) as possibly the most important thing I'll do all year. He obviously didn't take into consideration my skin care regimen. What was he thinking? Anyway, I'm hoping this means I can coast for the remaining 4 months of the year, which is unlikely, but a nice fantasy none the less.

I Handle Stress Well and Other Lies I Tell Myself

Let's just say this was one crappy week at work. Lots of elements converged to stress me out in a way that hasn't happened in a long long time. I store my stress in my neck, shoulders and chest. I'm sure I'm clenching my ass really hard too the whole time, but it doesn't hurt like the rest of me.
I was supposed to have the day off on Friday, but needed to conduct an interview and work on a report for the CIO. So, by Friday afternoon, I was a hunched over, stiff necked, headachy monster and surly, surly, surly. Much to my relief, I got an appointment with a massage therapist at a local clinic who touched my neck and said "whoa" and then proceeded with caution. By the time he finished, I wasn't nearly well, but was at least mobile. Today, I am a sore and crucnchy monster. Crunchy monster? When I pull my shoulders back, my chest makes a series of crunchy popping noises that Curt can hear. Nasty. I think I'll try rolfing.