I Have Seen the Crystal Light

I thought I would take a moment to explain my hiatus.  I had a migraine that went off and on (mostly on) for the better part of two weeks.  I was so tired of being in pain that I began to take big steps to address anything that might be causing the pain.  I cut out coffee.  I know, right?  I was seriously in that much pain.  I cut out artificial sweetners, except for two sips of Coke Zero every night because Coke Zero is about the only thing that sounds good when I am in pain.  All I drink instead is Crystal Light Pure, and lots of it.  (I know two things about myself- I will not drink just plain water and I will not eat lettuce).  Despite the pain, I joined a gym with lots of great yoga classes because the doctor said to do yoga.   The first yoga class I thought I was going to throw up.  But I didn't.  Slowly I started to have more moments where I felt normal than when I felt piercing pain.  (Finally I felt well enough to take an Africa Jazz dance class.  And it was so much fun!  Until we danced to a jazzed up version of The Circle of Life, which was a bit too on point.)  

Anyway, things are much better these days.  One Starbucks I know just took a giant hit on their bottom line, but on the other hand I would buy stock in Crystal Light Pure if I were you.

I'm fairly certain this has a lot to do with the tamoxifen.  You know what would make me feel even better?  A puppy.  Y'all.  There is this sweet little french bulldog at the french bulldog rescue page that, according to her story, was given C-Sections with a craft knife at her former home, yet she is still so sweet at her foster home that when another puppy takes her Snausage she just politely asks for another one.  Someone in the blog world has to adopt this dog.  Her name is Lilac.  You could call her Lila. 

Well At Least We Know Who To Blame

It doesn't rain in this State.  Ever.  Sometimes it will threaten to, or even start to, but it is so dry that the drops never reach the ground.  And it certainly didn't rain when the State was on fire and before they got those fires contained.

But then it did rain the weekend of the festival.  The very expensive festival where The Franchise had a booth.  It rained so hard that there was a river going through our booth and our pans floated down the street.  They shut down the festival early.  And none of the vendors expected to break even - this being a big festival,the entrance fee was outrageous. 

And I am fine, but I got in an accident in my husband's truck.

Clearly you know whose fault this is.  George W. Bush.  Anyway, I remember once them saying that with global warming that Aspen was going to become the temperature of Texas.  Well guess what.  The fires and the floods and the heat.  The Gods are angry my friends. 

Burning Down the House

The State is on fire.

As much as I prefer a big blue Texas sky or a Carolina beach (or, really, the entire South) to these dry red mountains, it makes me sad that they are on fire.  We have friends who have been evacuated, and places we know and visit and hike have burned. 

I don't think it is helping my headaches, but at least our house isn't in the line of fire, so I can't complain.  I am not going to complain here about the migraine I worked through today.  Nope.  I'm just sayin'. 

Everyone is staying inside to stay out of the smoke. I am watching a new Chopped where all the chefs are from New Orleans.  New Orleans natives are lovely, aren't they?  And while we are on the topic of the Food Network, is everyone else on board with the hipster winning Food Network Star?  Love the hipster. I forget.  What did people watch before Food Network? 

No Thanks I Have A Headache

Y'all.  I've had a headache every single day since we've been back, with three of those days being migraines.  South Carolina was better.

Perhaps I just require sweet tea and "yes ma'am" to feel well.

However.

The fact remains we have to live here for the next ten years minus three month and here gives me a headache.  A constant, sicky headache that no amount of Kate Spade sale on sale can solve.  Trust me.  I tried. 

The Primary Flaw with Fifty Shades of Grey

We are reading Fifty Shades of Grey for book club.  Not the Pi Phi Book Club, naturally, but The Other Book Club.  My sister-in-law read it on family vacation.  She wouldn't hang out with us because she couldn't put the book down.  My other sister-in-law read it through and thought it was so good that she read it again right away. 

Wha?

Because The Other Book Club girls are so excited about this book and are already discussing it ahead of schedule, I figured we would actually be discussing said book on book club night and I made a promise to myself to read it.

I got to page 400 on the plane back from vacation.  My friend can't wait to lend me books 2 and 3.  No.  Please No. 

Because SERIOUSLY.  Did you note the part about where she was dressing for her date and she used a comb to put up one side of her hair.  GIVE YOUR READERS SOME CREDIT.  No woman since the mid-70's has used a comb to decorate/hold up her hair.  And then you think well, hey, wait a minute.  Maybe the book takes place in the 70's.  But no.  The main characters converse via email in parts of the book.

And also I feel a bit wierded out by the fact that so many people are so excited to read about the kneeling and binding and submissive stuff.  Do they not have cable?  Are their lives more exciting than mine?  Am I missing something?  Am I normal?  Because, frankly, I just don't want to read any more about this woman in the play room.  I don't care AT ALL what happend to her in there next.  Or what happens to her and him outside of there.  I could care less about this book.  Someone explain.  Obviously I don't get it because I have used shouting caps and italics to try to describe my confusion here in this post. 

Mmmmm Savannah

I love Savannah. I am a misplaced Southernor. I could live here. I love orange. I could live in the house with the orange door. However, Mizz Paula. Mizz Cora Faye on Colfax Avenue in Denver, Colorado, gives your fried chicken a run for its money. Also, my tummy hurt when I left your restaurant. Also, my vegan stepdaughter could not find anything to eat in your restaurant. That being said, you make a fine biscuit. And my husband declared your peach cobbler the best ever and he knows from peach cobbler being from the South and having it every Sunday after church. Tomorrow, Charleston. Although I was not born there, I was married there, so I reserve the right to be a Carolina Girl. Tomorrow we will visit the beautiful house where we got married, and the cupcake store that catered our wedding. By then the kids will be grumpy and we will head back. But right now, off to start Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil.

I Want To Ride My Bicycle

When we were riding bikes around Hilton Head I saw many fantastic purses alligators.

How much fun is riding a bike?  I had a blast and now I want a bike when I go back home.  Except back home there are helmet laws.  It is also hotter back home than it is here in the South (stupid Rocky Mountains) (OH AND ALSO ON FIRE) and I imagine once I attempt to undertake said activity with a helmet I will no longer be a fan.  It's not vanity.  I even really like hats.  It's just that I don't like to exercise while wearing headgear.

Anyway, here in South Carolina where you can be stupid if you want to, I am loving cruising around on a bike, the wind in my hair and the purses lurking in the ponds.