I have taken over the upstairs office. Mr. X has gravitated to the comfortable olive, ultra sueded couch with the new, mechanically astounding lift top coffee table. He has made the perfect nest for himself with the refrigerator and television close at hand. I am laying on the floor in the upstairs loft/office. I am on the floor because the scorching desert sun is burning my face, blinding my eyeballs and making the desk too hot to touch. Getting a shade for the office has just moved up in priority on my list of things to do.

I have been spending all of my time cooking, and thinking up new things to cook. I think I’m at week two of my six week commitment to the allergy diet. I was somewhat hoping that I wouldn’t feel better and that I could instead just up my medication dosage, or eat some magic root in addition to all of the things I am “allegedly” allergic to. But, unfortunately, and fortunately, I begrudgingly admit, am feeling better. These last few days when I eat something I almost feel high. Mr. X is being very patient and accommodating to me, as usual. I know he’s sick of hearing a detailed report every time I have a symptom, or lack of a symptom, and how it feels or how it doesn’t feel. Not to mention that every description must be described in minutiae, ad nauseam and then punctuated with an analogy. What can I say for myself….It is my way.

*In other news, I have once again been contacted by THE MAN. He wants me back. I told him I don’t want to go back. Then I told him I might come back. Then I told him I would work for him on a per piece basis, with no contracts and no guarantees that he’s even going to get anything. But, you know THE MAN…..he doesn’t like to take no for a answer. So, I’m sitting at my computer, thinking about what a big black guy from the hood would want on the back of his jacket or the front of his t-shirt.

*For those of you who don’t know me, or hang on my every word….I used to design graphics for “urban” clothing. I did this for about five years before becoming disillusioned, hardened and generally put off by the business and the people who run it in. I went to massage school, re met Mr. X and moved to the last place on earth I ever thought I would live…Vegas.

It’s hot here. Not “Africa kind of hot” yet, but eighty nine degrees is close enough.

That’s not getting me any sympathy from everyone that still has snow on the ground is it?

We have a coffee table. I have my feet on it right now. We ordered it eight weeks ago and picked it up yesterday. I’m listening to a new cd made for me by poly. I traded her a box of food and vitamins that I will not be eating since I saw the allergist.

I am tempted to go on a rant about how I can’t eat anything and I’m miserable. But I’m not really miserable, just highly, and I stress highly, inconvenienced. I think I feel better, but I can’t really be sure because it might just be that all of this grocery shopping and cooking and chopping and dish doing is taking my mind off of things, which I interpret as feeling better. Let me just get it off my chest and list the things I have to avoid for at least six weeks. You don’t have to read it, just the fact that I’m writing it makes me feel better.

wheat
corn
soy
potatoes
tomatoes
green beans
apples
oranges
iceberg lettuce….and some other stuff…..but this is boring.

basically I feel like I can eat ice cubes and garbanzo beans.

Mr. X just came back from playing hockey. He asked me if I would go see a movie with him tonight. I said, “Are you asking me out on a date?” He assured me that if that was too forward, we could go as “just friends”. Which reminds me….

We decided to get married in Vegas, probably in the middle of May. So, if your reading this, your invited. I want to get married by Elvis, but X is a little hesitant. They have a real time webcast of your wedding, which besides Mr. Presley, really sold it to me. You can check out the archived weddings here. It doesn’t tell you what they are, you just have to scroll down to the bottom of the page and click on the names.

So who wants to come?

I have taken to checking my Ashtanga Yoga tape and did it almost every day.
built an entertainment center where there was a large empty 8 X 7 X 4 foot recess in the living room. The builders wanted an extra $2000 for shelves. We (okay X) built it for under $200 (but I am a very positive supportive helper).

Now we are listening to listening to the ipod on random. Bush is playing right now. X is laying next to Murphy the dog on the floor typing on his laptop. Every few minutes he talks to himself saying things like, “Oh, I see now”, or “hmmm?”. I’m sitting on the olive sueded couch with Jason the cat curled up in his favorite spot on the puffy back above my left shoulder. The dishwasher is running. I am drinking peppermint tea.

The garbage truck is going by. I’m listening to it and thinking about the garbage man (refuse technician) that hit on me last garbage day. He was a black man who had all of his top front teeth surrounded in gold. As I drove by the garbage truck he frantically flailed his arms signaling me to pull over. I thought something was wrong, so I did. I rolled down my window and he said, “Hey sweetheart. I know you stay around here. You got a man?” I said that I did, and he was in the house that I just drove away from. He stomped his foot, shook his head dramatically and said, “shit man….shit”. I smiled, rolled up my window, waved and drove away, all the while narcissisticly high fiving myself mentally for still being cute enough to get hit on by strangers.

I had a happy post about going to LA for THE BEST VACATION EVER! but there was a sad part in there about pouring a hot thermos full of tea down my boot while taking an on ramp too fast. I have second and a few third degree burns on my shin in the configurations of my sock. But then again, you could say it was happy because I REALLY, REALLY FELT ALIVE for the next twelve hours. Then it was happy again when I met my friend Lainstar at the airport. We stayed in the swanky the standard hotel…more happiness. We drank, and drank, and drank talked to a producer of The Daily show, who gave us his email and offered us comp tickets. Then we had even more drinks while sitting next to Bob Saget and his girlfriend. Yes, you heard me right, that Bob Saget…I was so star struck I could hardly speak. I mean have you seen his work? Genius, pure genius. But then it turned sad again because I had to go home. Then it was the sadest of all because I had to go to work. Then Friday, I can’t decide if it was happy or sad…but I think I was fired. Well, quit/fired….whatever the case, I am currently uneployed. This makes me happy because I am free from THE MAN, but also sad because however much I hate THE MAN, I really enjoy his money.