Record Breaking Sucks

Ah, San Francisco. The little city that could. Could what, you ask? Could deliver a totally sucky March, weather-wise. It's almost as if the city wants me to leave, and go somewhere where it doesn't rain as much. Hmmmm. Tastes slightly ironic to me.

I won't regale you with the details of my tooth saga, but I'm pretty sure that my whole mouth is turning against me. And here I was thinking that whenever I break my diet to eat pizza, I do so for the benefit of my mouth and all of the little taste buds that live in there, giving no regard to any love handles, thunder thighs or extra chins that may or may not be temporarily leasing space on my person. Well, no good deed goes unpunished, my friends. The great endodontic uprising of 2006 is upon us.

Fair Warning: Wedding Content

If you're sick of hearing me yap on and on about wedding stuff, stop reading now. Go shopping instead.

I tried on wedding dresses today. Of course I won't post pictures of the fairy princess fashion show here, but suffice it to say that I love me the tulle skirts.



That's 10 layers of tulle, netting and taffeta. Yup. Long live poofy dresses!

I've only scratched the surface

I was reading a friend of a friend's blog and apparently he blogs with something called Word Press. I know that to many of you, that sentence was not unlike "I was talking to a friend of a friend and he drinks something called soda." It's not like I haven't heard of Word Press, it's just that I started blogging in August 2004 with Blogger and I never looked back. Between Blogger and The Planning Shop's server, I've always had everything I've ever needed to blog, post pictures, songs, videos (sort of), links, etc. Sometimes I'd like to customize the look of my blog a bit more, but I have acute codephobia. HTML, HTM-anything. That stuff is like gobbeldy gook for the most part. Whenever I start to wonder what Word Press could do for me, or Movable Type or any of those other way cool sounding platforms, I take little peek at their websites then go running post hast back to the warm and safe arms of Blogger. So what if my blog looks a little, erm, un-customized? And so what if I basically only have one page of blog? If I had access to more than one page, there would be a page for each pet, at least page for wedding stuff, a page for travel destinations...it would just get out of hand. This is exactly how it works when I have a grand idea for an art project: "Oh, it will be great. I'll use the shadow box and that freaky dollhead I found in college and that glitter glue I borrowed from Alene and the pictures from that weekend we went tot he beach..." And then I make a mess and the project never actually gets done. But when I take a nice photo, put it in a frame and simply hang it, it only takes 5 minutes. And it looks lovely. And it gets done.

I'm still here

OK, you can all relax now. I'm much better, and back at work. Don't get me wrong, I'm not running marathons or anything. In fact, by the time I get home from work and feed the minions, it's all I can do to make it to the couch and watch the Simple Life (it's the season where Paris & Nicole drive around the country in a pink pick-up truck with an airstream trailer--lucky brats.). I am plain exhausted from all of this illness crap. But still, I can swallow without crying, and I can eat mostly solid food (dang root canal). This concludes today's update on Deborah's health.

Does it sound like I'm one of those "poor me, I was so sick I couldn't even complain about being sick" types? Because I swear I'm not.

This week at The Planning Shop we welcomed our newest team member, Maggie. Maggie is our new Managing Editor, and she's a real honest-to-goodness go-getter. Even in her first week, she's managed a ton of, er, editing. In fact, she's working so hard that I may have to stop watching slingbox at my desk and actually start working again. It will be a difficult transition for me because I'm totally hooked on those Volkswagen commercials where they "unpimp your auto." That old German guy creeps me out in *just* the right way. But I suppose I can manage. Besides, Rhonda is bound to ask me why I haven't actually left my desk in 3 weeks eventually, and if that has anything to do with our daily book shipment going from 20 to 0. I kid, I kid. I leave my desk to get more coffee all the time.

even woooooooooooooooorrrrrrrrrrse

I'm sure I would be complaining about the flu that Rhonda gave me last week, except I'm too busy complaining about the nasty case of strep throat that I caught the next day. But I'm on the mend now--I finally graduated from jell-o to poached egg last night. Now that's progress (cringe).

ooowwwwwwww

I'm sure I would be complaining about yesterday's root canal re-treat right about now ("Your tooth is so unique! It has 3 canals instead of two! Now hold still while I cram this long, pointy metal deal into your face."), except that I'm too busy complaining about the chills and body aches that this flu is giving me. Thanks, Rhonda! I can't say my boss never gave me nothing.

RAWR

Right. There's nothing like a weekend full of rain, hail, and cold cold cold wind. The only one who hates this weather more than me is Ozzy. And not just cause of the thunder. I suppose if I had to do my business outside, I'd be bitter, too. But then again, I don't wear fur underpants.

I watched just enough of Dirty Dancing on cable yesterday to get "(I've Had) The Time of My Life" stuck in my head all day. Also, I've had to fight the urge to respond to every question, comment, and random thought with "Nobody puts Baby in the corner." So far I've been successful. So far.

By the way, this is my new T-shirt.

Teeth: The gifts that keep on giving

I thought it was strange when my tooth started hurting. I had, after all, had a root canal done on this particular tooth not 2 weeks previously, and I had a crown put on just last week (and yes, of course I contemplated getting a platinum crown with teensy weensy diamonds in it). And a root canal removes the nerve. Oh, well, apparently the root in question has a micro-channel, which is of course undetectable by the x-ray. So tomorrow I get to have my root canal undone--oh joy--so I can go to a specialist who will take it from there. LUCKY ME. So excuse me if I seem grumpy or irritable. It's because I am.

After this is all over, I'm getting a massage.

I'm not a total spoiled brat. I know that this is no big deal. I know that if this is the worst thing that happens to me this year that I'm doing pretty darn well. Heck, at least I have roots for canalling. Still, I feel that I am within my rights by doing a bit of complaining, especially considering that I really hate going to the dentist and that I chose Gentle Dental for that reason. Not so they could gently explain to me that they have to undo the root canal they just did so that it can be redone. Plus, I have a cavity.

Just can't get enough Disney

Miriam *finally* uploaded her Disney pictures. That girl can really rock the sepia!



That's me at New Orleans Square, waiting for Bijan to buy his ridiculous hat.



Miriam was also able to capture some of the colors that really make me loooooove California.

They also make me wish--I mean really wish--it was summertime and not extra super cold freezing rain storm season. Nuts to March.

The Darker Side of Disney

I am, in many ways, a fool. I make impulse purchases both in stores and while shopping online. I procrastinate to the point of no return. I watch American Idol. Additionally, I make clothing decisions based purely on aesthetics with little to no thought given to comfort or the level of appropriateness. In regards to this issue, the pointy, pointy thorn in my side are my beloved favorite of all shoes, my navy blue converse low top sneakers. Great for wearing with jeans, skirts, bermuda shorts, what have you. Awful, and I mean AWFUL, for walking any sort of distance. Especially once you've been wearing them for a while and the soles have become paper thin.

I should have learned this lesson extremely well after walking the Bay to Breakers last year--in my converse. To be fair, we started walking at mile 3. Being the genius that I am, I brought the dogs along--and didn't think about how we would get back, as the Muni wasn't going to be a very dog friendly place post-race (think sardines in a can, then triple it). Total round trip: 9 miles in those damn shoes.

Oh but I didn't learn. Not the first time anyway. I wore those same beautiful, hurtful shoes to Disneyland. But by the afternoon of day 2, I was in podiatric hell. I decided to buy a new pair of shoes, even if all that was available were overpriced Nikes or something like that. Oh, if only they had overpriced Nikes of something like that! The only pair of adult shoes sold in Disneyland? Behold:



(And remember what I said about Disney characters.)

I wore the crap out of those shoes, and my feet were at least 35% more comfortable, making me at least 47% less irritable. But I forgive my converse. I still love them the most of all shoes. You'll see my feet in nothing but flip flops each summer, but every other time of year it's converse for me. I just don't learn. And now I have a pair of emergency Mickey Mouse shoes in the back of my car. Just in case.

Drag Queens--They're Not Just For Birthdays Anymore

The other, erm, fun thing I did last weekend was hang out with my good ol' college pal, Liz. And what better way to catch up and reflect on the old days than to have dinner served by a bunch of gender illusionists? Don't answer that.

As with any drag show, the best parts are the costumes and the music. Sparkles, feathers, platform stillettos (muh?), fish nets, show tunes, Britney Spears, Janet Jackson, Nancy Sinatra... But even better at this show were the patrons. Mostly out-of-towners and people celebrating events for with transgendered drag shows are appropriate (again, muh?), the facial expressions were 100% priceless.



Much to my surprise and pleasure, the owner of the joint could be seen milling around and chatting up the regulars. Needless to say, I can't wait for Liz's next visit.