"Puttin' On the Ritz!!!"

Scott and I went to see "Young Frankenstein - The Musical" tonight before it leaves its' Seattle debut for Broadway.

Freakin'. Brilliant.

I was laughing hysterically throughout the entire 2 1/2 hours. (If you haven't seen the movie, you have no idea why ... but hopefully y'all have seen it).

The cast included Roger Bart, Megan Mullaly, Sutton Foster, and Andrea Martin. Yes, all of them here in our little town of Seattle. We were swooning. (Every time Andrea Martin was on stage, I kept thinking of her as the aunt in "My Big Fat Greek Wedding" - "What do you mean he don't eat no meat? Oh, that's okay - I make lamb").

And I still can't stop laughing at Elizabeth (Megan Mullaly) singing "Deep Love". Again, hopefully you've seen the movie, so you can guess why it was so funny. Lines about Deep Love ... Long Love ... Firm Love ... yes, it was an adult show. I was crying from laughing through so much of it.

Anyway - this was the first quasi-"Date Night" we've had in months. It was nice.

If any of you have the chance to see this show, DO IT. Really - worth every penny.

In the Land of the Living

I was reminded by my cousin Jo tonight that I haven't posted in almost two weeks. I am still alive, just that life has been hectic, with twists and turns on the hour (just like it is for everyone else).

I'll try to write a meaningful post this weekend. I'm grinding my teeth constantly these days and need to keep re-reading my last post. Oh, and breathing. Breathing is good. But I'm not gone, completely.

Don't give up on me, kids.

Simple.

I need to give myself some advice.

Step back. Take a deep breath. A DEEP breath. Close the eyes, don't open them again until the mind is clear. Shake out the dust, the overcomplicated web of everyday minutia that covers everything, forget any petty items that are causing you grief and hurt and misunderstanding, purge the details from yourself and concentrate on who you are. Break yourself down to the most simple essence of yourself. It's there, somewhere. Not lost, not gone, just a little buried.

Stop clenching your jaw and grating your teeth. Relax. Remember who and what you are. Go back to that person.

Be.

Listen to more Aaron Copland, like you're doing right now. More Ralph Vaughn Williams, more Percy Grainger, more Paul Hindemith, more Benjamin Britten, more Samuel Barber. Re-read your e.e. cummings, your Paul Bowles. Stare at more Picasso, more Edward Hopper, more Kandinsky, more Gaugin.

You know, all the things you used to do.

And remember the Adlai Stevenson quote you've had memorized for over twenty years:

Your days are short here; this is the last of your springs. And now in the serenity and quiet of this lovely place, touch the depths of truth, feel the hem of Heaven. You will go away with old, good friends. And don't forget when you leave why you came.

New blogger to my blogroll

Check out Don't Wake the Pretty. I'm hooked. LOVE HER.

An update, and a pledge ...

Yeah, my posts have been meaningless fluff/drivel for a while.

I miss having the time and focus to make this blog what I originally wanted. I haven't taken the time lately to form my opinions well enough to warrant spewing them out to the unsuspecting public. So, I've kept to myself. And submerged myself in the somewhat surreal world that is my work life.

Quick updates on that:

* Still haven't hired anyone to replace my retiring team member. I came to three candidates I wanted to interview; one declined, one no-showed, the one I interviewed I'm on the fence about. One more candidate to interview ... but we're looking to agencies now. The next month is promising to be hellish.

* I'm planning a "Come To Jesus" meeting with the other team members. Seriously ... a team of five people (plus me), and they are E-MAILING me about "so-and-so did this", "so-and-so said that", "why isn't so-and-so doing yadda yadda yadda ... ". If I had WANTED to be a high school teacher, I would have finished that education major instead of running screaming away from it.

* I have to consciously make myself lower my shoulders. They're up near my ears these days. I think there's a little stress/muscle tension occurring.

On the other hand, I do still love the Big Picture of my job. I just need to wade through a lot to GET to that Big Picture. And I don't own hip boots.


So, the pledge: I WILL post an actual intelligent, thoughtful post ... hopefully this weekend. I miss writing them, actually. I need to find some more balance in my life. I recently bought a bracelet through Human Rights Campaign, and I love it ... it tells me to just "Be". Simple, eh? The way I like it:

How do y'all handle stress when it overwhelms you?

August 12 of 12

Thanks, as always, to Chad for the 12 of 12 phenomenon ...

So, being a Sunday, it was pretty quiet.

Joe Jetta needed some gas, so off to the Shell station:

Wow. Joe's a dirty boy. I bought him a car wash:

From inside the car ... the window looks like a Van Gogh painting:

Ooooo ... shiny ...

Went crazy at the nurseries yesterday, so had to go crazy with the hanging baskets. I felt like Marie Antoinette ("surely not the FIRST queen in history to lose her head over a basket ...") ...

And readied the container by the front steps for fall (gasp):

Yikes. That front garden bed has been a little neglected:

That's better ... new plants, too, although you can't really see them:

Garden is done, grocery shopping is done, Matterdays is done ... I is tired ...

Marinating the steak for tonight's burritos ...

The wasp killer Scott bought - after getting stung six times today clearing out the front garden:

The other ingredients for dinner - just waiting for the rice and steak to cook:

The Bonus Picture - "Light":

It's that weird time of year ... it's not getting light as early, or staying light as late ... nothing's really growing or dying ... it's not about brilliant colors or about anything fading. These "Dog Days of Summer" are depressing in a way. It's almost like there's been too much of a good thing. It's time to start thinking about the end of something. But that's not really a bad thing. This time of year reminds me of things always being cyclical, yin and yang, good follows bad, nothing is static. Light and dark are all part of everything we are. It'll be interesting when our 12 of 12 keyword is "Dark".

Bloggerpalooza

We had our first Bloggerpalooza today in Seattle!

Scott and Andrew were on vacation visiting Andrew's family on Lummi Island and in the Seattle area. Well, we couldn't pass THAT chance up. So we met at 5 Spot for brunch this morning.

As we already suspected, they are some very cool, fun, hep cats. We really enjoyed meeting them and had a great - but too short - time with them.

The pictures WE (well, Scott) took:

Scott in Iowa, taking Scott (in Seattle's) picture (half of me on the right)

Our waiter (probably gay, definitely sassy - don't tell ME you're out of red flannel hash ... ) and some guy in the background whose t-shirt read "Look at me - I'm a miracle cleaning ingredient". Great. Scrub my bathtub.

Group picture ... Scott, Andrew, Guido the Killer Pimp at the next table, Scott, and me ...

We took them to Kerry Park, which has great views of Seattle. Scott got artsy with the sculpture there.

Cool view of Seattle, with Mount Rainier to the right (pronounced "Ren-Yay")

Scott, me, Scott and Andrew.

Scott and Andrew, it was a pleasure to meet you. We'll have to have Bloggerpalooza (I think it was actually Scottapalooza) again. Nice to meet some new friends.

Which Came First?

A chicken and an egg are lying in bed. The chicken is leaning against the headboard smoking a cigarette, with a satisfied smile on its face.

The egg, looking a bit pissed off, grabs the sheet, rolls over, and says, "Well, I guess we finally answered THAT question".

One Word Only

I've been tagged by Claudia - which I don't mind.


I have to answer these with one word:

Yourself: Matt

Your partner: Scott

Your hair: Greying

Your mother: Loving

Your father: Gentleman

Your favorite item: Ring

Your dream last night: Workmare

Your favorite drink: Tanqueray

Your dream car: Mustang

Dream home: Colonial

The room you are in: Office

Your fear: Failure

What you are great at: Listening

Where you want to be in 10 years: Adult

Who you hung out with last night: Neighbors

You're not: Patient

One of your wish list items: Suit

The last thing you did: Mail

You are wearing: Jeans

Your favorite weather: Snowy

Your favorite book: Non-fiction

Last thing you ate: Pickle

Your life: More

Your mood: Anxious

Your best friend: Scott

What are you thinking about right now: Carbonara

Your car: Jetta

What are you doing at the moment: Squinting

Relationship status: DomesticpartnershipIknowthat'scheatingwouldn'titbebettertobeabletosaymarriage

What is on your t.v: Dust

When is the last time you laughed: Yesterday

Before and After

Yes, another pretty picture post. I do hope to get back to writing at least an occasional meaty post and exerting the effort of forming, sharing and arguing an opinion - but not tonight. There are a lot of annoying things going on these days, and by the time I get home I tend to like to sit glassy-eyed and drool thoughtlessly into my wine.

So today, after a day at the nursery (coupon in hand), Scott and I headed to the backyard to do some planting (after I cut the grass - DAMN that grass was tall ... ). Then Scott said, "wanna come up front and help me trim the wisteria?"

Now, we love wisteria. It's a vine that has gorgeous, fragrant flowers in the spring, and sometimes blooms again during the summer. We planted some around our front steps a few years back so that it would frame the porch. And it has.

Boy howdy, it has. It's INCREDIBLY fast-growing and tenacious. But it's taken over the front of the house, and needed to be dealt with.

So, at about 6:00 p.m. on a Sunday (the way we always do these kinds of things), we "trimmed" the wisteria. Well, half of it.

BEFORE (from a year ago):

AFTER:

It looks so ... naked. But I'm kind of in a cleaning-up, starting-over mood. We do want to rip out the (neglected) front garden and do over, so this feels kind of good. But, it might be too much at one time.

Who knew gardening could be emotional. I'm such a geek.