As in accessories and wall color. Lord knows after my experience on Saturday, I shan't be drinking any time soon. Despite my affinity for all things merry and bright, I can't live with the pumpkin orange. Last night, as I looked at James, his face started blending into the drywall. It was as if I painted the wall caucasion pink. I can't take it. So, I turned off artistic voice, and turned on Cecelia practical (no offense, lovely Cecelia, but you really are practical. Which is why I need you around.) I whipped out the Pottery Barn catalog and chose a lovely shade of tan that has a hint of yellow in it. Yes, K, I am joining the ranks of boring T.O.. It shall be boring and simple but full of fancy accessories and art prints. Vibrant, bold art pieces... that I can't yet afford. But they're looking awesome in my head. Ya'll are my witness when I say that one day double matted Flaming June or Woman in a Purple Coat will hang boldly on my waspy, unoriginal, but fabulously painted, walls.
I am done with Act 1 and on to Act 2 of my pilot. I am hitting a stride, which makes me happy. Normally I wouldn't take this long to complete a project, but having kids is sort of like walking around with two bowling balls all day. It's possible, but it's heavy. Sometimes you need to put them down to get things accomplished. But what if your errand involves hills? The ball could roll down the hill and smash the old lady selling oranges on the corner. You have to be on guard. But it's worth it, because bowling is fun - especially bumper bowling where you're guaranteed to make a strike and everyone is happy. Especially the toddlers. Which, speaking of, leads me back to why this script is taking longer than usual.
My storage unit/office is almost ebayed off. I am concerned about one item that sold for sixty bucks. Personally, I wouldn't have paid 10 cents for it. Then again, I am also notoriously cheap. Except when it comes to my time - which I do give up pretty generously. Bottom line: I'm thinking any time now the buyers are going to demand a refund, but no word yet. Fingers crossed they like their brothel style/beads falling off/piece of ca ca lighting fixture.
Side note: Nick and Sophie are tearing out magazine pages as I type. I already scolded them once. Am I the worst mother on the planet if I just let it go and pretend I don't hear it? Nick is fully toilet trained. He is off the bottle. He sleeps through the night... isn't that enough for one day? Then again, cut to fifteen years later when we're talking through bars at Juvie Hall because I was too lax. Ah well. At least I'll have his room as an office.
I am not only a delinquent parent, but a delinquent citizen. I did not vote this past election. I did not vote for our past president. I did not vote for the WGA awards. I did not vote for our preschool auction. I have no excuse. I am not informed, aware, or at all poltically enlightened. I did take down some links Cecelia sent me, and I'm attempting to read up at least 10 minutes/day on local events. But the world at large, I'm ashamed to admit, like staring at my living room walls too long, is a big giant blur. I don't know the difference between the House of Representatives and the House of Pancakes. I have no right to complain if I don't vote or stay in touch.
So I will try.
Just like I will try to query magazines. And parent my kids. And get in shape. And go to church. And maintain a romance with my man.
I wonder sometimes if I come off self-depricating. Like, I'm really not as fat as I make it out. Or as lazy or unaware of the world. But I do have goals I want to set, and since I don't have the time to do everything I'd like, due to kid obligations, the ghosts that spur me on come out as howling neurosis on the web.
But hey, if you don't like it, just delete me. Otherwise, you're a freak too, and glad to have you on board.