I want to turn off the television. I don’t know what happened. We used to have a “no television” understanding. The tv was fine, sitting it it’s spot on the shelf unwatched. Now, I find myself sitting for hours mindlessly hypnotized by bad Steven Segal movies on USA and E! entertainment for the brain dead. This must stop. I must stop this. I think somehow checking the baseball scores merged into watching sports center which somehow merged into Lifetime television for women.

Okay, tv off. I hear crickets and my laptop fan. I’m burning two candles on the coffee table, sitting on the floor with my back to the green, fake suede couch. I always refer to the couch that way. It’s never the green couch or the fake suede couch. It’s always the green, fake suede couch. Although, sometimes I will substitute “sueded” for “suede”. Murphy the dog is at my feet, stretched out long. Her ears are rotating like….I don’t know what they’re called….those things that rotate. Like a Direct TV dish…but rotating….Her ears are rotating at every sound that isn’t a cricket. I’m drinking mint mate tea out of my red starbuck’s mug. Mr. X is playing poker, but this time not on the internet. Mr. X and Vlad the Russian are playing at a home game with players from his hockey team.

I was at work today. I had an older client that exhibited a behavior that I dislike with clients. When working on people sometimes you need to move their arms or legs, reposition their head or some such thing. Every time I touched her, she was trying to anticipate what I was going to do and “help” me. I touched her wrist in the process of holding on to her arm to move it to her side and it went stiff and she shot it straight out horizontal to the table. She wouldn’t let go, not for one minute. I told her that she seemed like a very “helpful” person, and that probably a lot of people depended on her. She made an exagerated sigh and agreed with a hint of pride in her voice, thinking that I had just acknowledged the thing that made her important and loved. I tried to be zen and have compassion for someone wound so tightly. I tried to see that behavior in myself and to let it go in me. But then, in the end, I just wished her well and went on with my day.

As I waited outside of my room for her to come out, this exact sentence ran through my head, “That was like brushing the fur on a dead dog”. Then I though, “Cindigo! That’s horrible.” I am a bad person. If there is a Christian God and a Christian hell….I might be damned to it.

seven seventeen pm.

I’m laying on the shorter of the two green, fake suede couches. We’re playing poker. We, meaning Vlad the Russian and Mr. X are playing poker and I’m listening to the running commentary. They’re not playing each other. They’re playing on the internet. “I smoked her ass good” just floated down from the upstairs loft. Also, “Oh my god!” and “damnit!” have been thrown around a few times.

I got my hair did and my spine realigned today. Although not by the same person. My chiropractor likes me. I’m a pretty good client for a chiropractor. I do yoga twice a week and am neurotically aware of my posture and body mechanics. If I was my own client, I would like me. This was my second visit. She told me today to give her some business cards because she needs good massage therapists to refer her clients to. I said I would bring a bunch next week and think about my pricing structure. I’m hesitant. A good client base means roots in Las Vegas. I would rather be more like a topical mold to Las Vegas than anything deeper.

Topical mold…..something I thought I would never want to be like.

We will be in LA again Aug. 2 or 3-5. Lainstar’s brother’s band is playing at The Viper Room. It’s supposed to be a big deal with record companies watching.

Remember when I used to be interesting? At one point, I believe, I was clever and charming and had important things to say. I could be kidding myself here, but I really thought so. Lately, I feel boring and lame. I have a few sparkley thoughts here and there, but they never seem to gel into anything cohesive. I cook. I go to work. I sleep, do laundry and clean up random piles of cat puke. Maybe we watch an occasional movie.

I have to do something about this.

Mr. X is on his way home from Reno. He called from the collapsing, valiant brown van with our trusted Russian comrade Vlad by his side.

I am sitting in the grey puffy chair drinking green tea.

Things I am thinking that may or may not be interesting:

*I made a chiropractric appointent for Monday. I have never been to a chiropractor before. My 7th cervical verterbrae is about a quarter to a half an inch twisted. I injured it two years ago doing a shoulder stand (visualize neck stand) before I really learned to support my weight with my arms. It goes out every once in a while. I think the giving 24 massages a week may have something to do with it.

*Monsoon Central is probably still pissed. No monsoon as of yet.

That is all to report from the grey puffy chair.

One am on a Thursday night. I’m sitting in the grey puffy chair watching Jason the cat. Jason is loud. He is licking his paws loudly and every twenty seconds or so, meowing loudly. Sometimes this annoys me. Especially at three in the morning, this annoys me. The air conditioner turns on and I remember it was supposed to rain. The cashier at the grocery store told me that the local news was suggesting that people should stock up on precautionary sand bags for the flood. It’s monsoon season here in the desert. The AM radio station I was listening to was calling itself monsoon central or some such thing. I thought it was a joke….monsoon central….that’s rediculous. For some reason I associated monsoons with places like Japan. In fact, I don’t even really know what a monsoon is. I’m thinking hurricane but more dramatic somehow. It didn’t rain. I bet monsoon central is pissed. Jason the cat is asleep on the table. Mr. X is still in Reno. I have been parking in the exact middle of the garage. I had things to say earlier. I was thinking many brilliant thoughts. I bought books and sheep cheese on my way home from work. Although not at the same place. Jason the cat is snoring. The air conditioning is off, but my computer fan just turned on. There always seems to be some kind of noise. Today I had a crazy client with curly red hair and blue green nail polish. She came in with her boyfriend. The boyfriend had applied liberal amounts of self tanner. I could tell because the undersides of his wrists were white with streaks of uneven smeary tan, orange. He irritated me. She irritated me, but not quite as much. When I was leaving work, I had the receptionist look up the phone number of the bookstore on the internet for me. She did. I called. I wanted to know if a book I wanted was in stock. There was a loud, nasally woman’s voice on the recording giving me directions and store hours. She told me to hold on the line and a book seller would be with me momentarily. I held. No book seller ever picked up. I called back and held again. Again, no book seller. I snapped my phone shut and decided not to call back. That is the end of my book seller story. Yes, I agree, not one of my best. But, it really put you in the moment didn’t it? It is now much later that when I started to type this. I’m going to bed now. Recklessly, I am not going to spell check before I brush my teeth with my Tom’s of Maine all natural fennel toothpaste, switch off the lights and fling myself into the ultra mod and hip Ikea bed and drift off to sleep on my buckwheat pillow.

I am alone. Mr. X and Vlad the Russian are on their way to Reno. Vlad the Russian is our friend from Colorado. They are going to Reno on official gambling business. I would tell you….but then I would have to kill you….or at least blind you or something.

Last night was potluck cindigo. I posted on craigslist that I was having a low stress get together and all were welcome within the sound of my voice. Three people showed up, our two neighbors and their two kids and Vlad the Russian was already there so forced into by default. It was fun. I think I’ll try another one, or something similar, in a few weeks.

The night ended with me getting attacked by the neighbors dogs, but even that was kind of fun. They left to go home. X, Vlad and I were sitting on the couch talking when their three year old daughter came walking down the hallway. We picked her up and walked next door to reunite the family. Murphy the dog followed us. When they opened the door, their three dogs bolted out, and one dog out of the three went straight for Murphy. I didn’t even think about it and lunged for their collars and tried to separate them. They were snapping, barking and snarling. Somehow I got tangled up, tripped and fell underneath them. Afterwards, the neighbor said she thought my arm was going to be ripped off. This morning, I only have a few dog mouth shaped bruises on my arm and one small cut on my pinkey. Murphy the dog has a small cut on her tail that wouldn’t stop bleeding for a while, but other than that she seems fine. She even seemed to be enjoying all the attention after the scuffle.

Now I have an entire day to myself. No work, no Mr. X…..I’m not quite sure what to do with myself.

We’re back from LA and San Diego. I know you didn’t know we were gone. But, we’re back.

The four hour trip back, took seven and a half hours. Other than that last part, it was a fantastic week away from the dry, desolate, fucking dry, hateful, horrible city of las vegas that I hate with every fiber of my being. *please note, that if you do not know me, I have a tendency to exaggerate and bend towards the dramatic.*

Highlights, since I can’t manage a full description before fainting from hunger:

*Hanging out with friends in San Diego.
*Dinner at Fred’s in the Gaslamp District. Little did we know that every fifth day of the month is cinco de fred and patrons are treated to no less than three songs where the wait staff accompany with whistle blowing, dancing on tables, maraca shaking and forcible patron sombrero wearing.
*Walking in Balboa park.
*Seeing the movie Mudge Boy -the story of a boy and his chicken. A “meditative” movie to say the least.
*Going to LA, staying in Calabasis with Detroit peeps.
*Accidentally shooting twenty foot jets of water out of the Jacuzzi tub, all over the mirrors, marble, towels and expensive bathroom furniture. I didn’t realize that the tub had to be full before I could turn the jets on.
*Hanging out all day at a beach in Malibu. Mr. X watched the surfers almost the whole time, wanting intensely to surf. This is a great advantage to my move to the ocean plea.
*The argument between two members of the Detroit faction about the legitimacy of Cabbalah classes and Madonna’s hand in commercializing and watering down the practice. I say practice, because I’m really not exactly sure what it is. When I asked, they said, Jewish Mysticism….which I’ve heard before….and doesn’t really tell me anything. But I just stayed quiet. Later on it was suggested that we call OnStar and ask them about Cabbalah.
*Feeling like a pimp being driven around in a black Cadillac Escalade.
*Making drinks and watching two school girl stalker movies.
*Hearing coyotes come down from the mountain and howl in a pack practically outside of the window.

And now I’m here. I opened all the bills and threw the laundry in the washing machine. My mom sent us a 30″ x 60″ photo/fake painting of a wedding picture that my step dad took. It was a nice gesture, but it’s something I would never in a million years put on my wall. In fact, to be honest, I think it’s hideous. But, possibly an honest attempt at a sincere gift, and for that, I will be grateful and gracious.

Side note to specific family members:

*Doug and Leslie-I am a jackass for not calling you. We got your card. It is the best piece of art I have seen in a while. It is framed. I am blocking some serious hours out for book shopping. This comment is not in replacement of a call. Hopefully it will buy me a few more days procrastination time. I would have written you a long and riveting email, but, my mom wouldn’t give the address to me. She said that you don’t check it, therefore forcing me to call….she’s so subtle that one. Not that I don’t want to call…I’m just better with the alphabet.*

I have a headache for which I will drink water and maybe take some Alieve.