rachelpink rides the bus

Achoo

I'm sick and it's not surprising because I've been working all the time (even my dreams are peopled with Star Wars), eating food that doesn't do a body good, and running hopelessly behind on everything. I owe too many friends emails. There are babies being born that I want to knit for and I haven't lifted a single sharp stick to make it happen. I just can't get it together.

And so I kind of deserve a little sick. It's what I get for letting things get nutsy and out of control.

But here's the thing, I've always been a bad patient. From baby times, I've been a dramatic sickie. My nephew has the same tendency so it must be genetic, right?  The bad habits we all chalk up to genes.

So I'm on my second day home from work, being very good and answering emails and calls from the couch while sipping ginger ale and orange juice and soup with noodles and crackers. The apartment is messy and I'm just letting it stay that way because I need to get better and get work done and get myself back to fighting condition. I work for a few hours, then nap. Work, then nap. It's doing me good, and I'm actually making a dent in the great email pileup.

And while I'm not being dramatic about this cold, I am feeling dramatic in general. I hate being single and sick. Now I have good friends who offer to bring me soup and tissues, and don't think for a second I don't appreciate and love them to pieces. But there's something to be said for having someone that runs to the store for ginger ale and rainbow sherbert and trashy magazines and tissues in a square box, then comes home and pops the top off a can of Campbell's chicken noodle and tucks you under a blanket and lets you watch Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire for the millionth time. Isn't that so 34-ish of me? To have romantic visions of being taken care of when I have a cold? When I was 17 I never thought I'd have such pedestrian, un-feminist(!) dreams. I can take care of myself (sort of--with the help of my good advisers) and buy my own ginger ale and tuck myself in. I can watch HPIV every day all day if I want. And I dig it! I dig having a place of my own and a life of my own. . . but then I think: What if I have a coughing fit and fall and hit my head on the edge of the kitchen table and collapse onto the floor and die and no one finds me until the cats have eaten me for breakfast? Sigh. I'm hopeless.

It's Hard to Write. . .

. . . with a cat on your arm.

Sigh.

So I'm watching The Emmys and eating grapes and drinking iced tea. Foster is now fully laying his sweet little cat head on my left hand, so pardon any typos. Despite the fact that I've been home all day long, that's not enough for my Foster. He loves me so.

I did not have a productive weekend. Sigh again.

But that's OK. Next weekend I'm headed down to D.C. to see my Tammy and Matthew. The last time I watched Matthew on my own it was 2 years. He was still a wee one. I changed his diaper a bunch of times, and never got the gosh darn thing on right. If not for Becca and her family helping me out, Matthew would have spent an afternoon leaking all over the Smithsonian. That day I also took the little pumpkin on a million carousel rides and taught him to throw dirt and rocks on his own head for comedic effect (I did it too!), so diaper malfunctions aside, he still liked me. 

I'm sure I'll do better this year.

Speaking of sweet munchkins, I haven't talked to mine lately. School and new friends are keeping them busy. Sigh to the third power.

Clothes-ed

I hate summer because I hate being hot and forced to go without a sweater.

Now it's fall, and I can layer and bundle and it makes me a happier girl. It's also been a very inspiring time for clothes!

I went to the trunk show at Re/Dress in Brooklyn last weekend. I wish I'd brought a friend because it would have been more fun. Even still, it was grand! Several lovely, talented, and altogether genius plus-size designers were there selling their hot hot clothes. I met two of them, and they rocked. Inspired women doing good works--I can't get enough of that!

If money was no object I could have easily spent over a thousand bucks without much effort. Instead, I had three twenty dollar bills tucked in an envelope. Go-go budget fashionista! Things I wanted? A playful custom dress from Cupcake and Cuddlebunny (instead I bought this t-shirt--and it makes Meredith mad!), several pairs of ruffled tap pants and an armful of skirts from Size Appeal, and a sassy slip dress from Diesel Femme. Must remember to keep playing lotto.

And last night I watched "The September Issue" and if you're in a place where you can see it, go! It's an amazing documentary full of stunning clothes and personalities. And a model eats a pastry! That's exciting to see. I'll never look at an issue of Vogue the same way. 

Today I found a link to The Uniform Project. This super-stylish chick is wearing the same dress everyday for a year as a fundraiser. She's doing amazing things with accessories.

And then I bought myself two things this week. First, I finally made a purchase from B & Lu. Bought a dress with an owl that I think I'm going to love (and it was deeply and delightfully on sale). Then today for a mere $13 I found a short cropped cotton jacket with a round collar at my local super bargain awesome secret clothing store, Famous Brands. I think I have to wear it tomorrow because it's perfect.

The Other Side of the Fence

Today I had my first interview about the book! It was with Redbook magazine, and Meg said it was OK for me to handle it solo.

The whole thing lasted 10 minutes, but it was so nerve wracking. I'm afraid that I came off sounding goofy! Wait, I am goofy. The interviewer was an editor who I have pitched a million times, and I'll admit that it was so so cool that I didn't have to pitch her. The pitching was done! The book is getting mentioned! Hurrah! 

So. . . come mid-October our book will be in a real-live magazine. It's the November issue in the Mind and Body section (or somewhere thereabouts). That's pretty darn happy-making, no?

Long and Hard (hehe)

I'm home after working a 15 hour day. I still have 900000 things to do. . . but strangely I feel more relaxed than I did earlier in the day.  My only disappointment? I wanted to do something for Susan's birthday tomorrow. It's gonna have to wait until Friday. Sigh. 

You know what helped? Some absolutely fan-freaking-tastic singapore noodles from the Noodle Bar on Carmine Street. Oh my. It was a weird mix of noodles, shrimp, sprouts, hardboiled egg, something grey and meat-like, and a curry/coconut broth. If it had gotten down on one knee, I would have married that plastic bowl of noodles without reservation. Dear god they were good. 

Enough noodle talk. This girl needs some zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. 

Note to co-workers: I'm wearing my Star Wars Lego t-shirt tomorrow. I expect no one to tease me. I need to keep the enthusiasm alive. 

Today Was The Day. . .

I knew I was going to reach a point where I just completely lost my marbles at work. It happened today at approximately 3:15 PM when I went down to the basement to pick up labels for a mailing. 

Labels are a rather essential part of my work life. Envelopes, labels, books, Vocus, Outlook and lots of iced tea--that's how I do what I do. I discovered in the basement only 6 sheets of labels. Here's the thing, earlier in the day for a massive mailing that the whole bloody imprint helped us mail out we used up 120 sheets of labels. That's just one (albeit one BIG) mailing for one small imprint in one big company. How could there be no labels? It baffled me. 

And for some reason, the labels just set me ablaze. I lost 15 minutes of the day just seeking out the labels (only to essentially FAIL in my mission). Then I lost 15 minutes more ranting about the lack of labels. Yeah, that was a good use of time. The whole thing just made me sink a little lower than I had been. It was a completely irrational moment of label-induced hysteria. 

But it's really never about the labels, is it? 

I'm grateful as grateful can be to have a job in this economy. And I'm especially grateful to have a job in an industry I love even if that industry is going the way of the triceratops and the dodo bird and Liberace and tights-as-pants (admittedly that last one is just a bit of wishful thinking. I've seen far too many offenders of the tights-are-not-pants rule).

Sigh. It's such a waste of time and energy to get upset and rant about labels and work and mailings. I have 400 costumed characters that require wrangling--that's the prize I need to set my eyes on, and pronto.  

Ditto Ditto

I heart Beth Ditto. Today at lunch I looked at her clothing line--again--but I didn't buy anything (yet) because I want to be fiscally responsible what with trips and fun on the horizon. I'm sad to see that the super sparkly jeweled belt sold out. Sigh. 

[I should buy the cape though. It's such a good cape.Or the creepy cat shirt. Sigh.] 

Anyhow, for half the price of that cape, I think I might instead go see her when she comes to town next month. Really, I just want to pal around with her and go clothes shopping and get drunk. But since that's unlikely, seeing her on stage will have to do. 

Fall is full of so many good things. Apple cider. Pee-Wee Herman. Birthdays. Beth Ditto. Babies. The Happy Book (on sale in November--have I mentioned that?). 

Vegas, Pee-Wee, Oh My

It's 6ish and I'm awake and close to leaving for the office. Ugh. 

But first I'm trying to crunch the numbers and find a way to pull off an October trip to Vegas and a November trip to L.A. to see Pee-Wee. I've got a free round-trip JetBlue ticket. That's good. But you know me, life without credit cards means I need to do all this fun stuff on cash alone (which is good! I know that). 

Lisa's turning 40 and that's the reason for Vegas. That's a pretty damn good reason. 

Pee-Wee is in L.A. and that's a damn good reason too :)  I might literally do a fly in, fly out for Pee-Wee. 

If I'd won that damn Mega Millions jackpot, this wouldn't give me pause at all. Sigh. 

Holiday?!

It's a holiday weekend? I totally wasn't paying attention. Wow. That's kind of great. I'll remember that this week when I'm working like a madcap maniac trying to get books out and plans set and lists pulled and blah blah blah.

Three days in a weekend. And nary a plan in sight. I like it. It's grand.

September!

It's here! It's here! I knew it would come. 

I've always hated August. Some good things happened (time with Donovan and writing with friends and Vince's meat), but it's always a tough month for me overall. And now it's DONE. 

And better yet, it's cool out. And in a month or so I can start wearing my Fat Baby boots again. And tights! I need to place an order over at We Love Colors. 

Because I love September (and me) I'll get myself back on the Points bandwagon. Starting now. Cause last night I had some thai coconut soup and half a box of Teddy Grahams for dinner, and I still feel kind of ick from eating all those little bears. The soup, however, was grand. 

Oh September. You've always been my favorite. I just want to wrap you up in ribbons and put you in my pocket.