kid's book prologue: The Legend of the Croco-diamond

From The Legends of all the Creatures in all of The Worlds, by Baron Joseph von Noseworth-Socks and Dr. Mimsy A. Crumbles:

In the time of the time in question, which is much earlier than time is now, there existed a King Muckles-string who oversaw the kingdom of New Dunsley Clackyshire on the Sea (though in truth it was just close to the sea). And the King had a terrible problem.

There was a building central to the town, The Raincoat Keeper, where all the too small raincoats, back up raincoats, raincoats for future use, and previous raincoats which could no longer be used were stored. It rains quite frequently in New Dunsley Clackyshire on the Sea. The building was old, and, as the town people often said, a bit wobbly.

In any case, one day the King had arranged a parade for all of the heavy things in the town. He was trying to promote fitness. So the townsfolk dutifully gathered up all of the heavy things and loaded them onto carts for the parade. There was a statue of a camelsaurus (the King was fond of dinosaurs), and Mr. Elmsberry’s fish tank which contained, among other rare species, a leafy dragon eel. Also in the parade was a giant sack of pennies that the elder Mrs. Fungalstinn had spent her life collecting, a model of a volcano that was used during National Lava and Explosions Week, a giant egg whisk made of solid metal that commemorated the mention of New Dunsley Clackyshire on the Sea in book nine of the poggly woggly adventure series, the local cat that ate all of the rats, and finally the De Confetti family’s collection of bricks.

The Parade of Heavy Things was meant to start at the edge of town, circle The Raincoat Keeper, and then proceed to the other edge of town. But as the Parade of Heavy Things began circling The Raincoat Keeper something bad happened.

The building shuddered, then sighed, and the walls and the roof collapsed into a pile of dust as if the Raincoat Keeper had never existed. Raincoats began to blow around New Dunsley Clackyshire. People were seen walking down the street with red children’s raincoats stuck in their hair, yellow crossing guard’s raincoats plastered to briefcases, and blue fishermen’s raincoats caught on the bottom of shoes.

As New Dunsley Clackyshire is in a valley, the raincoats blew in a circle around the town. Pretty soon everything was covered with raincoats – the sidewalks, the houses, even the camelsaurus. If one saw it one would imagine it was just a giant coat rack and not an esteemed dinosaur. The people of the village picked up the rain coats but had no where to put them and, in any case, more blew in to take the place of the ones people picked up.

Around this time a Croco-diamond came to the village. He seemed out of breath as he arrived. One might have thought he had been running, though Croco-diamonds aren’t normally known to hurry. He dragged behind him a large corked bottle. Something grey and cloudlike swirled around inside it.

“Greetings good people of the town of New Dunsley Clackyshire on the Sea! What a fine town you seem to have! I am amused by your decorations. Perhaps it is National Raincoat Day? I do love holidays. Especially ones that last a week. Why just the other day I was telling King Ramsley of North Cuffsley…”

A breeze picked up and blew a pink polka dot raincoat onto the Croco-diamond’s head.

“Well, I see I have now joined in your raincoat celebration. I thank you, the good people of New Dunsley Clackyshire on the…”

More raincoats landed on the Croco-diamond, sticking to the jewels on his spine and tangling around his finely manicured nails.

“Mmmphff. Well. This is a bit of a situation.”

The king rushed forward and pulled the rain coats off the Croco-diamond. Croco-diamonds are considered royalty according to Von Murray Royalty Reference and the king was embarrassed about the rain coats landing on such a regal figure.

“Oh pardon,” said the king as he held up his royal robe to shield the Croco-diamond from further rain coat assaults. “We had a parade of heavy things and…”

“I am very much in a hurry,” said the Croco-diamond, interrupting the king. “You see, my favorite uncle has fallen into an abysm while looking for a button and I must rescue him.”

“An abysm?” asked the king.

“Yes. He was strolling through the moors with Lord Fangerly when he lost a button. While looking for the button he fell into an abysm. One can only be grateful he fell into an abysm and not a schism. Or a crack. Or a fissure. Or a rent or a rupture. Imagine if my uncle had fallen into a split or a sunder. Though I supposed one might not be able to fall into a sunder. And all for a button…”

“A button? I mean, an abysm?” asked the king again. He was very confused.

“Yes. I see you understand. So I have created a vortex to pull him out of the abysm.” The Croco-diamond pointed to the bottle with the swirling cloud inside. “I must make haste to the moors! So if you would be so kind…”

But just at that moment a rain coat landed on the head of Mr. Elsmberry,

who stepped backward onto the tail of the cat that ate all of the rats

(who was, at that moment, trying to eat Mr. Elmsberry’s fish),

causing the cat to jump on the De Confetti family’s collection of bricks,

causing a brick to fall onto the bottle next to the Croco-diamond.

There was a sharp ^CRACK and then a loud _{WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH}.

“Oh dear,” said the Croco-diamond. “There goes the vortex. I fear a bad result for all.”

The vortex rose from the ground and swirled above the crowd, spinning faster and faster as it rose.

“The camelsaurus!!!” cried the king, and he ran to protect his beloved dinosaur.

BUT.

The vortex, in fact, was slowly sucking in all the rain coats. As it spun around the town, looking somewhat like a tornado but also like a cone of multi-colored cotton candy, it sucked up the polka dotted rain coats, the firemen’s rain coats, the ancient rain coat of Great Aunt Ethel, and all the other rain coats (except for those that were properly hung in the closet).

And after all the rain coats were cleaned up, the vortex rose towards the hills and disappeared from sight.

The Croco-diamond sighed and peered up at the sky. “How sad. I was going to rescue my uncle and then patent my vortex.”

But soon the jubilation of the town people, who were finally free from rain coats, raised the Croco-diamond’s spirits. Mrs. Fungalstinn made him a very fine sash proclaiming the Croco-diamond the rescuer of the people of New Dunsley Clackyshire on the Sea and Grandpa De Confetti took a picture of him standing regally next to the camelsaurus in his sash.

The king declared that the Croco-diamond was the luckiest creature in all of the worlds so that any town and every person would, if they met a Croco-diamond, welcome him and take care of him.

The best luck would belong to any person who met a Croco-diamond.

PRK

I had my eye surgery Thursday evening. So, most people who get PRK are hit with the laser for 5 - 10 seconds. I had it for 60 seconds on my right eye and 40 seconds on my left. I could smell my eye burning. Seriously. 

Good news is that the scar tissue that was fucking up my sight is gone and they have this new shit they put in my eyes that should keep the scar tissue from coming back.

The thing is, I didn't realize I would be TOTALLY blind after the surgery. And in excruciating pain. The only thing I've done worse to myself is my knee surgery. My work friend C took me for the surgery and dropped me off at my house. She seemed worried about me but I assured her I was fine. About 5 minutes after she left everything was so blurry I was even bumping into furniture. I realized I didn't know which eye drops I was supposed to use as well. And I couldn't see what time it was to know when I was supposed to take them.

I ended up going over to the low income housing because there's always someone hanging around outside. A nice man there set alarms on my phone so I would know when to take my meds. I then spent Friday and most of the weekend in bed with my eyes closed and covered with ice bags. My eyes swelled up and turned bright pink. I know this not because I could see them but because I attended an art show at my neighbor's house and he thought I had fake contacts in because my eyes looked so bad.

A sculptor hit on me at the art show. My vision was so blurry all I could see was a general outline of him. I don't even know what color his hair was. He said I was a magnificent creature, what ever that means, and that he wanted to have sex with me as well as have me pose for a sculpture he's making for the Denver Public Library. After he propositioned me I decided to go home.

On Monday I opened my eyes and the pain was substantially better and I could see. I went to my doc's at 845 to get the bandage contacts out. In the process of taking out the bandage in my left eye I sustained a 6 mm corneal tear. That feels like having a nail shot into your eye. I was in so much pain I almost threw up. But I did not, at the time, know my cornea was torn.

They gave me some numbing drops and I started to walk home but the drops, as soon as I got into the sun, didn't do shit. My eyes were watering uncontrollably and I couldn't really see. Then, for what ever reason, my nose started bleeding but my vision was so bad I couldn't see the blood. I ran out of kleenex for my eyes and nose so was wiping both of the on a white scarf I was wearing. I got to this intersection where all the homeless people hang out. They usually block the sidewalk. For me they parted like the red sea.

I didn't really sleep much Monday or Tuesday night. But when I finally opened my eyes at 430 Wednesday morning I could see. So I drove over to a colleague's house to pick him up for work (he was leaving town and I offered to take him into work and to the airport because he gave me a ride the day of my surgery) and by the time I got there (it was only 2 miles) my eyes really hurt. I managed to survive until noon when we had to leave for the airport. My colleague drove us there and when I walked around the back of the car to get in the driver's side he joked "oh, this is a tearful goodbye!" because my eyes were watering uncontrollably. Then my left eye wouldn't open.

I got home somehow but it wasn't pleasant. I thought I was going to pass out from the pain. As soon as I got home I put ice on my eyes and decided to work from home Thursday. I also called my doctor's office and got an appointment.

The doctor admonished me for waiting so long to come in and put a bandage contact on my eye. It was like instantaneous relief. Everything is great today (though I still worked from home because people in my office had told my PM how bad I looked and how I was in pain and he told me to stay home and rest if I needed to).

I know my eyes probably won't stay this good re: my vision but I'm amazed what a huge difference the surgery made (colors are brighter, no more blind spots in my vision). However, I would rather have cancer twice again than do that surgery again. But, I needed to get my eyes fixed up for flying. And most of the difficulty was my fault. I should have taken my friend C up on her offer to take care of me. Oh well. It's a lesson I never fail to not learn...

I've been in Texas too long. My brain is turning into refried beans or some other badly executed mexican dish.

I passed my iEAi exam on Friday (I missed one point on a rather bullshit question, the worst grade is 99 out of 100, that's like getting second place) and am now a certified international enterprise architect. Fucking yiiiippppeeeee. The exam took two hours. It sucked. I got the highest grade in the class and the company that teaches the class wants to certify me to teach it. As you can tell from the pic, the certification means so much to me that I got it all wrinkled within 10 minutes of receiving it. I put it in my suitcase next to all my dirty socks.

trust me, I'm internationally certified

Four people failed the final. I told them I would do some break out study sessions with them over the next month so they can retake the exam.

Flight from San Antonio was a disaster start to finish. The exam ended at 1:30 and my flight didn't leave until 745. Weather delay - check. Crying baby - check. Morbidly obese passenger seated next to me - check. Then when I landed in Denver it took me 5 minutes to find my keys (rookie error, I can tell I haven't been traveling much). I finally got home around 1130. My suit case smells like I packed the san antonio river in it. Which I guess I did, between my bathing suit and my shoes.

The oddest thing happened on Friday. After the exam I and the Texans who paid for me to get the certification went out to lunch. I never was invited to lunch with them because they said I wouldn't like the food they eat (true - and some true stories - they eat a product that's pork skin heated in the microwave - thankfully I'm a jew and could beg out of trying it - they also eat popcorn nonstop, and last Friday when I brought in cupcakes one guy took two cookies and mashed his cupcake between the cookies making a cookie cupcake sandwich - they're all going to have diabetes if they don't already).

I contributed to the problem - these cupcakes were ridiculous...

I found this great korean place near San Antonio called Seoul Garden. I had a bowl of yukgaejang which burned most of the skin inside my mouth off (it was temperature hot, not spicy hot). It was good. The Texans had ribs or the "korean" hamburger (the two american things on the menu - one did try some kimchee). Then we went back to the classroom and I met most of the Texans' spouses. They might as well have introduced me like "this is an alien named Franki, we believe she came from Mars". My pink hair was maybe a contributing factor.

But, they were also bragging about eating korean food. Expanded horizons are good. I hope they go back there. The food was great and the owner gave me a hug after earlier yelling at me when I inquired as to whether or not the yukgaejang had honey or shellfish in it. It was nice.

And since I hadn't eaten since lunch I had a bowl of granola cereal and a glass of red wine before finally going to bed at 1230. It's not as bad as it sounds.

(I'm lying)

How the FUCK did I ever fly every week? I feel emotionally crippled from a 2 1/2 hour (plus 30 minute delay due to weather) flight.

Oh yeah, I had status back then. And free drink tickets.

I woke up at 530 this morning and couldn't fall back to sleep so I got up and got all my shit done (laundry, ironing, food shopping, work out, etc.). 

Now it's only 3 PM and I'm le tired and ready for bed...

thanksgiving project

Every time I go to my parents' house there's always some project that has to be done. This thanksgiving the project was finishing the attic. My brothers put up paneling and built some shelves. I helped my brother Steve build a box around some piping that my dad didn't want exposed. It took us almost a day but it looked pretty good:

I love that ladder, it's at least 45 years old

And no one was injured despite us using a saw and power tools.

My brother Steve is really getting into carpentry, and I used to refinish furniture. My aunt told me that we had italian relatives who were carpenters (like my great grandfather). I also found out the name of the village in Italy that my family is from, Caserta. We still have relatives that live there (I was able to see their houses using google maps) and my aunt is going to get me some contact information for them. I am thinking to go to Italy next fall to visit them. I once did a trip from Rome to the amalfi coast and must have driven right through my town without knowing. Caserta is known for a huge castle that's in the town and for being the village that Dr. Amalfi's (from the sopranos) family is from.

I also had to carry 5 bookshelves worth of books from the second story of the attic down to the first story, organize them, and then put them on the bookshelves. That took me 8 hours and then my dad mentioned, on the ride to the airport, that I had missed two boxes of books in the back of the attic. Oh well.

I would also mention that I was not sure how my Uncle Joe would react to my pink hair. At first he was feeding me shit about it and then, at thanksgiving dinner, he said "I actually really love your pink hair." Nice.

universal conspiracy

Last night I was supposed to attend an alumni event at a ping pong bar called Ace because I'm trying to be more social and network and all that shit that normal people do without trying. My friend and I got there and we didn't see any people who looked like alumni so we decided to go somewhere else. As we were leaving Ace we noticed a group of about 5 men in their 60s wearing name tags standing in a darkened area on the enclosed patio. Guess that was the alumni event. 

We went to Beast + Bottle, which is a very cool restaurant, and we split a flat bread pizza thing. We sat at the bar and the bartender mixed all the drinks right in front of us and kept spilling stuff on my hands. Finally he dropped an ice cube almost in my glass of wine and I picked it up and started explaining the limited science I know about ice cubes. Suddenly he decided to go mix his drinks somewhere else and my friend was like "why don't you put the ice cube down now that you've managed to scare every guy in this place away".

Well, my attempts at being social aren't always well received.

Then today I was walking home from getting my hair done and I decided to take a route I've never taken before. I ran into a guy I see all the time on my walks, except that he was at his home, in the front yard, washing his dog.

We've always just said hi to each other but this time he introduced me to his dog (Meathead) and then told me his name, Errol. He complimented my pink hair and then asked if I wanted to come to an art gathering he's having at his house in a few weeks. He's an artist, though he shows in Arizona because he said the art market in Denver doesn't allow an artist to have a good living. He lives in a really cool building so I was like "of course I'll come!" because I want to see the inside of the place. He's having a gathering of up and coming new artists in Denver.

Should be fun. And another chance to meet people in the neighborhood...

root canal

I've been having a problem with a lower back tooth for about two years caused initially by my jaw mis-alignment. The tooth was so sore that I haven't chewed on that side of my mouth for at least a year.

Now that my jaw is fixed my dentist finally told me to go see an endodontist. I went to see Dr. Parri Carnes. He was GREAT.

I have to say the appointment got off to a bad start because I had to get up at fucking 5:45 to drive out to his office for a 7:45 am appointment. I reassured myself that he probably didn't think I needed a root canal because no sane person would make such an early appointment for a root canal.

He took an x-ray of my tooth, which kind of hurt because I have a small mouth. Then he did a cold test, which involved freezing a q-tip with what ever that spray crap is that you can use to blow dust off your keyboard and touching it to the tooth in question. When he did that I seriously almost vomited from the pain. He was like "yep, you need a root canal" but his voice sounded really far away.

I must have looked crazy traumatized because he offered to let me come back on a different day for the root canal. And he offered to sedate me when I said I just wanted to get it over with. I was like "I'll be fine" but he said I should take a few minutes to relax and read my magazine (Harper's, story about chicken farming) before we started. Also, he gave me pink protective eye wear because he said it matched my pink hair.

He has this cool computer controlled needle that he used to numb me. It hardly hurt at all. And except for pressure I didn't feel a thing during the root canal. The only bad part was when the part of the dental equipment I had in my mouth got stuck on my nose.

For the root canal they put in what's called a dam, which is just a sheet of really thick stretchy plastic (like a theraband), to isolate the tooth and keep it away from the rest of your mouth and then they stretch the dam over a round plastic circle (imagine one of your teeth jumping on an trampoline and that's pretty much what it looks like). The plastic circle was a little too big for my face and during one of the breaks in the root canal I somehow jostled it and got it caught on and sort of up my nose. Embarrassing.

In any case, by 9 am the whole thing was over and he offered to give me pain meds and I was like "dude, I've had organs taken out and didn't take pain meds, is this going to be worse than that?" He said "probably, no". Anyway, I have no real pain yet, especially compared to how bad that tooth used to feel.

Fingers crossed it doesn't hurt tomorrow.

And more updates soon on some other stuff I've been up to, the past week has been super busy...

my surgery update

Not that I'm out of my surgery induced haze...

An Army doctor who's specialty is treating jaw trauma in vets came to my surgery and donated his time to help. He heard about me through a non-profit I work with for wounded vets (Paradox Sports). They had to cut the front of my chin which is going to look a little funky. The surgeons were all making fun of me because I literally read my book until they put me to sleep. The Army doctor said "After I'm done you might look like you showed up at a knife fight with a book as your weapon" He also said, after just talking to me for two minutes "you're the kind of person who would read that book* at the airport to freak people out." He also was kind enough to donate some prosthetic material that would fit my face (my face is too small to use the regular stuff. And he said my pink hair made me his favorite patient.

Anyway, I could care less about the scars because the pain in my jaw is finally GONE. Even through it hurts still it hurts in a different way. Turns out I had two pinched nerves, one in front of my face and one on the left side (I kept thinking it was my right side, guess I don't know my right from my left - it's the right side in the mirror).

white tape is where the front scar will be - I have another scar under my chin too

 FH drove me to the surgery and was kind enough to donate his zero gravity lawn chair (which he fixed up with a comforter) since I can't sleep laying down for at least 6 weeks. The chair was comfortable and I slept really well. 

we called it the crip-o-lounger

I just went to my first post op appointment. The doc did not wire my jaw shut and I'm on the honor system to not eat solid food. Which, to be honest, is not that hard of a promise to keep since I can't really open my mouth.

In any case, I plan to be back to work by Tuesday if everything goes well. My biggest issue at the moment is having to talk with a bandage around my head and my eye sight (the anti-biotic they gave me dilates my pupils so words are really blurry). Hoping that side effect will ease up after I've taken it a few days.

So, off to a weekend of Naked Juice and blendered vegetable soup. Tried to blend up some arugula for breakfast this morning but it just made a mess so I'll stick to the store bought juices...

*book is called The Skies Belong To Us and it's a history of hijackings from the early 60s and how airport security evolved. very interesting. did you know hijacking a plane wasn't even illegal until 1970? and most of the hijackers were teenage boys...

prologue - finished draft

I finished my children's book in 8 days. Then Jeff from my writer's group said it needed a prologue. I started writing the prologue in (embarrassing) February 2013. But I couldn't remember the scientifically accurate situation I had made up to tell the story of why croco-diamonds are so lucky (to justify why the Giant Man lets the croco-diamond wreak havoc on his farm).

This evening I decided to stop fucking around and just write something. So here's the draft prologue to the book:

The Legend of the Croco-diamond

From The Legends of all the Creatures in all of The Worlds, by Baron Joseph von Noseworth-Socks and Dr. Mimsy A. Crumbles:

In the time of the time in question, which is much earlier than time is now, there existed a King Muckles-string who oversaw the kingdom of New Dunsley Clackyshire on the Sea (though in truth it was just close to the sea). And the King had a terrible problem.

There was a building central to the town, The Raincoat Keeper, where all the raincoats, back up raincoats, raincoats for future use, and previous raincoats which could no longer be used were stored. It rains quite frequently in New Dunsley Clackyshire on the Sea. The building was old, and, as the town people often said, a bit wobbly.

In any case, one day the King had arranged a parade for all of the heavy things in the town. He was trying to promote fitness. So the townsfolk dutifully gathered up all of the heavy things and loaded them onto carts for the parade. There was a statue of a camelsaurus (the King was quite fond of dinosaurs), and Mr. Elmsberry’s fish tank which contained, among other rare species, a leafy dragon eel. Also in the parade was a giant sack of pennies that the elder Mrs. Fungalstinn had spent her life collecting, a model of a volcano used during National Lava and Explosions Week, a giant egg whisk made of solid metal that commemorated the mention of New Dunsley Clackyshire on the Sea in book nine of the poggly woggly adventure series, the local cat that ate all of the rats, and finally the De Confetti family’s collection of bricks.

The Parade of Heavy Things was meant to start at the edge of town, circle The Raincoat Keeper, and then proceed to the other edge of town. But as the Parade of Heavy Things began circling The Raincoat Keeper a terrible thing happened.

The building shuddered, then sighed, and all of the walls and the roof collapsed into a pile of dust as if the Raincoat Keeper had never existed. Raincoats began to blow around New Dunsley Clackyshire. People were seen walking down the street with red children’s raincoats stuck in their hair, yellow crossing guard’s raincoats plastered to briefcases, and blue fishermen’s raincoats caught on the bottom of shoes.

As New Dunsley Clackyshire is in a valley, the raincoats blew in a circle around the town. Pretty soon everything was covered with raincoats – the sidewalks, the houses, even the camelsaurus. If one saw it one would imagine it was just a giant coat rack and not an esteemed dinosaur. The people of the village picked up the rain coats but had no where to put them and, in any case, more blew in to take the place of the ones people picked up.

Around this time a Croco-diamond came to the village. He seemed out of breath as he arrived. One might have thought he had been running though Croco-diamonds aren’t normally known to hurry. He was dragging behind him a large corked bottle. Something grey and cloudlike was swirling around inside it.

“Greetings good people of the town of New Dunsley Clackyshire on the Sea! What a fine town you seem to have! I am amused by your decorations. Perhaps it is National Raincoat Day? I do love holidays. Especially ones that last a week. Why just the other day I was telling King Ramsley of North Cuffsley…”

A breeze picked up and blew a pink polka dot raincoat onto the Croco-diamond’s head.

“Well, I see I have now joined in your raincoat celebration. I thank you, the good people of New Dunsley Clackyshire on the…”

More raincoats landed on the Croco-diamond, sticking to the jewels on his spine and tangling around his finely manicured nails.

“Mmmphff. Well. This is a bit of a situation.”

The king rushed forward and pulled the rain coats off the Croco-diamond. Croco-diamonds are considered royalty according to Von Murray Royalty Reference and the king was embarrassed about the rain coats landing on such an esteemed figure.

“Oh pardon,” said the king as he held up his royal robe to shield the Croco-diamond from further rain coat assaults. “We had a parade of heavy things and…”

“I am very much in a hurry,” said the Croco-diamond, interrupting the king. “You see, my favorite uncle has fallen into an abysm while looking for a button and I must rescue him.”

“An abysm?” asked the king.

“Yes, he was strolling through the moors with Lord Fangerly when he lost a button. While looking for the button he fell into an abysm. One can only be grateful he fell into an abysm and not a schism. Or a crack. Or a fissure. Or a rent or a rupture. Imagine if my uncle had fallen into a split or a sunder. Though I supposed one might not be able to fall into a sunder. And all for a button…”

“A button? I mean, an abysm?” asked the king again. He was very confused.

“Yes. I see you understand. So I have created a vortex to pull him out of the abysm.” The Croco-diamond pointed to the bottle with the swirling cloud inside. “I must make haste to the moors! So if you would be so kind…”

But just at that moment a rain coat landed on the head of Mr. Elsmberry,

who stepped backward onto the tail of the cat that ate all of the rats

(who was, at that moment, trying to eat Mr. Elmsberry’s fish),

causing the cat to jump on the De Confetti family’s collection of bricks,

causing a brick to fall onto the bottle next to the Croco-diamond.

There was a sharp ^CRACK and then a loud _{WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH}.

“Oh dear,” said the Croco-diamond. “There goes the vortex. I fear a bad result for all.”

The vortex rose from the ground and swirled above the crowd, spinning faster and faster as it rose.

“The camelsaurus!!!” cried the king, running to protect his beloved dinosaur.

BUT.

The vortex, in fact, was slowly sucking in all the rain coats. As it spun around the town, looking somewhat like a tornado but also like a cone of multi-colored cotton candy, it sucked up the polka dotted rain coats, the firemen’s rain coats, the ancient rain coat of Great Aunt Ethel, and all the other rain coats (except for those that were properly hung in the closet).

And after all the rain coats were cleaned up, the vortex rose towards the mountains and disappeared from sight.

The Croco-diamond sighed and peered up at the sky. “How sad. I was going to rescue my uncle and then patent my vortex.”

But soon the jubilation of the town people, who were finally free from rain coats, raised the Croco-diamond’s spirits. Mrs. Fungalstinn made him a very fine sash proclaiming the Croco-diamond the rescuer of the people of New Dunsley Clackyshire on the Sea and Grandpa De Confetti took a picture of him standing regally next to the camelsaurus in his sash.

The king declared that the Croco-diamond was the luckiest creature in all of the worlds so that any town and every person would, if they met a Croco-diamond, welcome him and take care of him. 

The best luck would belong to any person who met a Croco-diamond.

think pink!

I got my hair re-pinked today (thanks for the gift certificate mom!!!!). Since pink is what's called a "fashion" color it fades more quickly than normal dye. But hopefully since I've stopped washing my hair it will stay bright a little longer.

very pink! looks the same on my hair!

I'm 44 - I can do whatever the fuck I want now

A note on not washing my hair...Jess kept telling me about how she only washes her hair when she gets color put in but I thought, since she has really long hair, maybe that's why her hair didn't look dirty (we have similarly curly hair and you would never know she didn't wash her hair if she didn't tell you). And I did stop washing my hair for almost an entire year when I lived in Athens in 1998 - 99, mostly due to the water shortage, and only washed it after I slept in the sahara desert and got sand in my scalp. But I was swimming / scuba diving practically every day in the ocean.

Anyway, when I got pink in my hair a month ago I decided to do an experiment and not wash it for as long as possible. Then I did some research about not washing hair.

Personally, I've found everything those articles said to be true. I used to have an itchy, flaky scalp (thanks, aging scalp, for that) and my hair would come out in big clumps. Plus, it always looked dry, even though I never blow dry it and use a really good, mild shampoo.

What I do is rinse my hair with water...

...one sec, forgot I was boiling water in the kitchen and the pot is making a horrible noise...

...every other day or every third day and then I apply conditioner (and rinse it out, obviously, or maybe not so thought I would mention to do that).

My hair feels like little kid hair. My curls are healthier. And my scalp is itch and flake free. And that's after not washing for just 5 weeks. The first two weeks were a tad bit rough (until I found out about the rinse with conditioner thing). And my hair was put to the ultimate test standing over frying dough and shrimp / chicken at the jazz fest. It did not retain any frying smells after I rinsed it. And a guy at work complimented me on the way my hair smelled (I don't know why, but when I'm in an elevator with men they sniff me - weird, I know - I was once in an elevator at work with this totally uptight religious guy and he was like "SNNNNNNNNNNNNIIIIFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF" and then said "I love your perfume!" - I had to laugh because my perfume is made with cannabis extract - it doesn't get you high, it just smells nice but he probably would have freaked out if he had known - btw, the one product I use occasionally in my hair smells like coconut, maybe that's why my colleague liked it - also, I was only taking the elevator because he wouldn't take the stairs).

Anyway, if you're bored, not washing your hair is a fun experiment to try. Think of all the money you'll save. I hardly put any product on my hair these days because I don't need to tame frizzy curls or try to make it look less dry and crap.

Now I'm off to continue this really cool algebra class I'm taking (watching it to get ideas for a book I've been thinking to write called the math castle) and eat some spaghetti with Martha Stewart baked cherry tomato sauce that I just made (hope it's as good as the reviews claimed - it was so simple to make it seems like it shouldn't taste good.).

with apologies to the Blair Witch Project

On Friday I and two of my colleagues made a movie. It's about solution architecture which is what I work on. I've been trying to think up ways to encourage people to follow a standard practice and thought, since they seem bored with my power points, multimedia would be the way to go.

It's horribly acted and likely only funny to anyone who is an (IT) architect that has also seen the Blair Witch Project. You can see the fading pink in my hair (have to do a refresh next week). I am eternally grateful that my colleagues agreed to join me in this project.

I used wondershare to edit the video since we filmed it on an iPhone, iMovies sucks, and I don't have a Mac. I've never edited a video in my life so had no idea what I was doing. I think it came out pretty well except for a bad splice at the end (learned a lesson about having some pauses in the vid in case you have to edit it). It's pretty obvious I spent the whole movie on the verge of hysterical laughter. My colleague Pete kept coming up with one liners that I wasn't expecting and that I couldn't laugh at. We both almost made each other laugh a few times in the movie.

Anyway, not heading to hollywood, but had a ton of fun and plan to make more movies. The movie took us about 20 minutes (including set up and practicing each scene) to make.

I also did a vlog after the movie about making the movie and the ideas behind what we did. I sent the above vid, and the vlog, to a senior VP in my company (I made the vlog for him). He should get it on Monday at which point I'll either be praised or fired. I'll try to post some quick clips from the movie later this week.

I'm working, really

Been a while since I posted anything but I swear I have been super busy the past week...

Where to start...well, I got pink highlights in my hair. Yes, pink. REALLY pink. They look so cool but amazingly people I know don't notice them at all until I point them out. They're called "peek-a-boo" highlights but seriously, when I walk down my street or am walking around Target people stop me and compliment my hair so why my friends don't notice I'm not sure. Note that my friend Cam noticed.

Next, I have a leak in my garage roof. I think I know where it is and how to fix it but wasn't able to get to it this weekend because of the rain/snow. I don't know why I keep saying "my last project in the house is done!" because there's ALWAYS another project. I also had to remount a bracket for my bike because it kept falling off the garage wall. It's fixed now. And I moved out my old work table and put a new one in and then cleaned the hell out of the garage because my friend Jess who started a food business is going to use the garage (and my refrigerator) to support her booth at the Jazz fest this saturday. I'm going to be a volunteer for her and she said I'm going to learn to cook brazilian food (ha. ha. ha.).

She was also like "are you sure you'll have room in your refrigerator?" I sent her a pic of my frig and she was like "oh, yeah, plenty of room". I have 5 beers, 5 sodastream sodas, a tub of yogurt, and salad stuff in one drawer in there at the moment. Oh, and a box of feta cheese. It's empty like Houston streets after 6 pm.

Someone tried to jump over my neighbor's fence that I just fixed and it's broken again...so I need to fix it...again...

And the incline on my treadmill isn't working. I tried to fix it and suspect a pinched wire. I called Sole and they are sending replacement wires and a technician out to fix it for free. I think something may have happened when I moved it to my office but we'll see. I did some research to see if it was a common problem and to prepare for an argument with customer service but they were super nice about the whole thing. Note: send in those warranty cards! It made everything simple. He typed in my phone number, brought up my info, and got the wires sent out in about 2 minutes.

Work has been crazy. I came up with an idea for a medical product for people with chronic diseases and I made it through the first meeting with the senior VPs. Next step is to get in touch with the venture capital group at my company and see if I can get funding for it. I feel like this is like trying to get my book published (almost there and then it will end in defeat) so I'm trying to not get my hopes up. But it would be cool if they even just prototyped it.

And I've been working on my gardening chops. I got a $70 amazon gift certificate and have so far managed to purchase 8 gardening books for a total cost of $20 (3 of the books were only a penny). I'm going to sign up for a hunter safety course and an avalanche course and might do the motorcycle safety course (getting in this time of year is a disaster - classes are full). I'm learning a lot about how to grow and pick plants. We'll see what happens once I get my vegetables in. I'm planting arugula, cucumbers, tomatoes, blueberries, blackberries, cilantro, basil, chives, spinach, and maybe one more herb.

Oh, and I found a great pho restaurant a little more than a mile from my house. Very excited I don't have to drive to federal for a pho fix. It's called pho-natic. I'm looking forward to trying some of their other dishes besides pho because I haven't figured out how to transport pho on my bicycle without spilling it.

And I just finished a 48 lecture class on the civil war and am about to start one on meteorology.

So that's my boring little life these days...

I forget the legend of the croco-diamond

In February I started writing a prologue to a children's book I wrote called the colossal cringle crisp caper. I did that because I was advised by Jeff in my writer's group (of which I'm no longer a member) to do so.

I came up with an idea for a short croco-diamond story that would be the legend of why they are lucky (if the croco-diamond isn't lucky, so some "logical" people say, no one would put up with his shit...though I know a lot of people that put up with shit from other people so whatever). I then researched it to make sure the idea behind the legend I was writing would be scientifically accurate. I started writing the chapter and then, literally the next day, got side tracked.

Anyway, I just sat down minutes ago to finish writing the prologue and I can't fucking remember what my idea was. For fuck's sake. Maybe I should just start over...and yes, I did complete this book more than a year ago, and wrote a subsequent story about the croco-diamond for a friend's daughter, and still haven't done a fucking thing about getting it published. I did enter it into a contest but judging from the winners it was the wrong contest (a book about the "huggy momster" won - I almost fucking puked typing that).

Oh well. I'll think of something:

The Legend of the Croco-diamond

From The Legends of all the Creatures in all of The Worlds, by Baron Joseph von Noseworth-Socks and Dr. Mimsy A. Crumbles:

In the time of the time in question, which is much earlier than time is now, there existed a King Muckles-string who oversaw the kingdom of New Dunsley Clackyshire on the Sea (though in truth it was just close to the sea). And the King had a terrible problem.

There was a building central to the town where all the raincoats, back up raincoats, raincoats for future use, and previous raincoats which could no longer be worn were stored. It rains quite frequently in New Dunsley Clackyshire on the Sea. The building was called The Raincoat Keeper and, as it stored all the raincoats of all the times, it was stuffed full of raincoats. The building was a rather old, and, truth be told, wobbly.

In any case, one day the King had arranged a parade for all of the heavy things in the town. He was trying to promote fitness. So the townsfolk dutifully gathered up all of the heavy things and loaded them onto carts for the parade. There was a statue of a camelsaurus (the King was quite fond of dinosaurs) and Mr. Elmsberry’s fish tank which contained, among other rare species, a leafy dragon eel. Also in the parade was a giant sack of pennies that the elder Mrs. Fungalstinn had spent her life collecting, a model of a volcano used at birthday parties, a giant egg whisk made of solid metal that commemorated the mention of New Dunsley Clackyshire on the Sea in book nine of the poggly woggly adventure series, the local cat that ate all of the rats, and finally the De Confetti family’s collection of bricks.

The Parade of Heavy Things was meant to start at the edge of town, circle The Raincoat Keeper, and then proceed to the other edge of town. But as the Parade of Heavy Things began circling The Raincoat Keeper a terrible thing happened.

The building shuddered, sighed, and then all of the walls and the roof collapsed into a pile of dust as if the Raincoat Keeper had never existed. Raincoats began to blow around New Dunsley Clackyshire. People were seen walking down the street with red children’s raincoats stuck in their hair, yellow crossing guard’s raincoats plastered to briefcases, and blue fishermen’s raincoats caught on the bottom of shoes.

As New Dunsley Clackyshire is in a valley, the raincoats blew in a circle around the town. Pretty soon everything was covered with raincoats – the sidewalks, the houses, even the camelsaurus. If one saw it one would imagine it was just a giant coat rack and not an esteemed dinosaur. The people of the village picked up the rain coats but had no where to put them and, in any case, more blew in to take the place of the ones people picked up.

Around this time a Croco-diamond came to the village. He seemed out of breath as he arrived. One might have thought he had been running though Croco-diamonds aren’t normally known to hurry. He was dragging behind him what appeared to be a large corked bottle. Something grey and cloudlike was swirling around inside it.

“Greetings good people of the town of New Dunsley Clackyshire on the Sea! What a fine town you seem to have! I am amused by your decorations. Perhaps it is Raincoat Day? I do love holidays. Especially ones that last a week. Why just the other day I was telling King Ramsley of North Cuffsley…”

Just then a breeze picked up and blew a pink polka dot raincoat onto the Croco-diamond’s head.

“Well, I see I have now joined in your raincoat celebration. I thank you, the good people of New Dunsley Clackyshire on the…”

More raincoats landed on the Croco-diamond, sticking to the jewels on his spine and tangling around his finely manicured nails.

blonde bashing (part 1)

You have to admire a company that wants me to come work for them so badly one of their executives let me almost wreck his car last night. Go ahead and say it - "women drivers".

But, in my defense, it wasn't my fault. After happy hours and dinners, the company decided to take me on an adventure in the hopes I might want to stay here. I met up with Ib, a guy I met through work whom I've become friends with, at 6 PM last night. He's an explorer in an off roading club in dhabi. There were 12 other people on the trip.


Off roading is very dangerous here, so the club has "ranks" of drivers. New drivers have no rank. Someone who's been driving for 6 months on "newbie" trips gets one star. The star system goes up to 4 stars (the stars dictate which trips you can go on). Experts can become explorers, meaning they find new trails. The trails are sort of marked on a gps system, but since the dunes change on a daily basis, the route isn't always clear.


Ib is an explorer. He's been driving for 6 years and he goes at least twice a week. He told me the trip would be done at 10. I figured I would be back to the hotel by 11 pm.


We started out by getting the car ready for offroading. Ib said "don't expect to be treated like a princess". I got out of the car in the 133 degree heat and helped uninflate tires at the edge of a road leading into the desert. Then we were supposed to put up a flag so drivers could see us when we were down in a dune so they wouldn't fly over the dune and hit us. But, Ib didn't have a flag. "How dangerous could this be though?" I thought to myself. Ib's 8 year old daughter's stuffed pink cat was in the car because she sometimes goes with him.


I was about to find out the answer to my question.


We started out on some mellow terrain. It took a bit of getting used to at first. You drive sideways across a dune, like a surfer surfing a wave. The car is constantly sliding down the dune and feels like it is about to turn over. People roll, but usually the sand is so soft that it's hard to roll the car unless you do something really stupid.


Night started falling and we were deep in the desert. We stopped at the top of a wide dune as the moon, which was barely a crescent, came out. We got out of the car and set up some chairs, and the group sat around and had tea and smoked either cigars or cigarettes. "What are we waiting for?" I asked Ib. "Complete darkness," he replied.


Once it was totally dark, Ib handed me the keys to his car. "We're going for a drive," he said. The rest of the group looked as surprised as I did. "But I don't know how to drive in the sand," I said. There was another female in the group, Carol, who's french and looks like a model. She's been driving for four years and is an explorer too. She had been telling me how long it took her to get the confidence to drive on easy stuff. And here I was, in the middle of some serious terrain.


Oh well, f*k it, I thought. I took the keys. My first maneuver involved getting the car out of the way of the other 8 cars parked on the dune. Ib's car was facing downhill on a steep sand slope. There was a car parked sideways in front of me. I had to roll 2 feet to get past the car next to me, and then execute a sharp turn to get around the car in front of me, without sliding into it. I managed to do that but was less than 6 inches from the car in front of me by the time I made my turn. Scary.


Then I made my first foray onto the side of a dune. You have to fight every driving instinct to do this. The car is sliding sideways as you are driving forward and you have to fine tune your pressure on the gas pedal to make sure you are gunning it on the more solid sand and easing off on the softer sand so you don't dig a hole. If the car decides to slide down you have to let it go and then figure out how to get out of the sand ditch. I got about 5 feet onto the dune and the car started to slide. Instead of turning the wheel down I tried to drive up more on the dune and then I hit some soft sand. We were getting stuck. I gunned the engine and all this sand flew off the front tire and into Ib's window. His face was covered with sand because he was sweating. I laughed and got stuck.


Ib tried to get us out, but couldn't. The jeep with the winch came and pulled us out. I thought that would be it for my driving, but Ib wanted me to keep going. He also said "just call me the sandman" because he was so covered in sand (the sand flying through the windows happened constantly the rest of the night because we drove with the windows wide open so we didn't have to have the air con on - what's the point of being in the desert if you aren't experiencing the desert fully?).


My second attempt went really well. I decided to treat the car like a boat and steering became easier, except that Ib said I was taking too tight turns, which can cause the tire, which is deflated, to come off its rim (called a pop out). He also said I should slow down coming over the top of a sand dune since you have to see what's on the down side.


But I was so afraid of getting stuck that it was hard to break coming over the top of a sand dune (that's one of the worst places to be stuck because it's hard to move the car with one set of wheels on one side of the dune, and the other set on the other side). The dunes rise up sharply like a shark fin. The last 2 or 3 feet are normally soft, baby powder textured sand. If you get stuck in that mess you can't drive out of it. So I kept flying over the dunes. Anyway, it was so dark, with no moon, I normally couldn't see where I was going anyway.


Then disaster struck. I went flying over a dune with the gas pedal to the floor because I had been zig zagging up a very soft dune. Ib was encouraging me, psyched I was able to drive up the dune. We came over the top, and for a moment it felt like the car had stopped. Then I realized we weren't stopped, we were falling.


The side we had come down on was super steep. There was a soft sand powder hole at the bottom of the dune and we landed smack in the middle of it. We hit so hard I ended up with a bruise from my seat belt (note in the picture there are NO tire marks behind the car).


I heard the rest of the club, who had been watching me drive from another dune cheering. One egyptian guy yelled out "Franki went flying!" The car had made a horrible noise when it landed. I thought Ib was going to kill me.


Instead he laughed and said "Your first stuck!" It took 15 minutes of winching to get the truck out of the sand pit. Ib laid under the front tire to show how high up it was off the ground. Then the club told me to sit under the tire so they could take a picture for their web site. These pictures so just how soft the sand is here. The back of the truck buried on impact. The front left tire was buried (I also damaged the bumper) but the right tire was really high off the ground.

After we got the car unstuck Ib decided that was enough of me driving. We took off further and further into the desert. Soon other people were getting stuck, so I didn't feel so bad.

Some of the group decided to go home at 10, but I wanted to keep going. The terrain was getting more and more treacherous. At times Ib just let the car slide where ever it wanted to go. Other times we would fly over a dune and hit hard on the other side after flying through the air. 


We stopped in a spot between the dunes around 11 pm. Everyone got out and we had dates and tea. Ib and I talked about work, life in general, camels, and then farting. He was telling me about how he had stopped hanging out with some of his friends because they were always having farting contests. He also said they sell this thing in his home country of Jordan that's like a stink bomb, and he used to throw them in his classroom because they would have to cancel class for at least two days because none of the lady teachers could stand the smell. I told him to bring some into the office (he and his family were heading to Jordan today for two weeks holiday) so we could get out of work. He laughed and said he didn't want his sons to know that these things existed because they might throw them in the house (they are 7 and 8 and apparently very badly behaved).

Around 1230 am we started to head home. That's when the trip turned into an epic. First we got a little lost and ended up on a soft dune. Everyone kept getting stuck. The only way out was to drive down this narrow corridor. As we headed towards the corridor Carol, who was in front of us, slammed on her brakes. In front of her was a newly constructed fence. She almost hit it, and then we almost hit her. Our cars were so close they couldn't winch Carol out because we were in the way. The guys in the group managed to push her out of the hole she had dug spinning her tires trying to not hit the fence. We then tried to back up the dune but the car slid forward into the fence.

About 20 guys came riding up on ATVs and started yelling in Arabic. Apparently a camel preserve had just put up the fence and they were yelling at us for being to close to the preserve. They yelled at Ib as he tried in vain to unstick the truck. His clutch was burning so bad that it smelled for the rest of the drive, but he couldn't move his car.

Finally the camel guys agreed to lower the fence so we could drive over it. We gunned up a dune while the camel guys screamed at us to not hit the camels. Then we got out and over the dune.

But a few minutes later the leader of our trip hit the fence in a new place. It took 15 minutes to get him unstuck and instead of being nice like Ib, he just cut the fence. Then another driver got stuck in the same place and had a pop out. While we tried to jack up his truck and fix the problem (which was not easy because the pop out tire was on the downside of the dune slope) the camel guys came over and started screaming that we would be arrested for ruining their fence. I was like great. It's 130 in the morning. I was tired, really dirty, and hot. I hadn't eaten anything since 11 in the morning so I was hungry but afraid to eat because I knew I would puke from all the spinning moves we were doing in the truck. And now we're going to jail, I thought.

But, Ib talked to the guys and in the end they let us go. We got the pop out fixed and Ib assured me we were only 10 km from the road and that we would be heading home shortly.

Then two more people got stuck. And Ib flew over a dune and landed in a sand pit. He had to be winched twice to get out of it and we thought for a few minutes we were going to have to leave the car because the position it was in made it so hard to pull out. The leader was the final stuck, ending up in a sand pit so deep that when the winch pulled him out we all had to move in case the cable broke and went flying.

Finally, at 4 am, we arrived at a gas station to reinflate the tires. Ib's car was first, but it took so long for the guy to fill the tires that it seemed he could do it faster by manually blowing into the valve. Ib was making fun of me because I was covered head to toe in sand and sweat. As Carol and I walked across the parking lot of the filling station to look at the damage she had done to her jeep from a stuck I left a trail of sand.

Ib dropped me off at the hotel at 530 in the morning. The intercon staff looked at me curiously as I made another sand trail through the lobby. I had blood on my feet from scratching them while I was trying to help unstick the truck barefoot. My shirt and pants were covered in dust. My hair was flying in a million different directions from driving in the heat with the windows open.

After showering I finally was able to lay down and shut my eyes. But right before I fell asleep I remembered the words of the trip leader: "so, next ride you will have your own jeep?"

Ha ha, I wish. No, I'd rather wreck someone else's.

deliver me from humidity

June is now in full swing. It's got to be the most disgusting weather on the planet. And, my air conditioning isn't working.

It's about 80 degrees in my room. All of the windows of the hotel are covered in fog because it's so hot outside. The place looks like a haunted house.

I woke up this morning around 630 and couldn't sleep because of the heat. I poked my head out into the corridor around 730 to get my newspaper. Dasan was standing outside my door. "I clean your room?" he asked hopefully. "Dude, I'm not going to the beach until 10," I responded. It's my first morning to relax in weeks. Dasan fiddled with his cart. I almost felt bad for not leaving.

He's recently presented me with a new card, almost twice the size of the one he initially gave me. I hope the new card is in response to all the letters I've written about what a good job he does. He turns the right side of my bed down. He always leaves me two chocolates instead of one. And he understands my organizational system and never rearranges any of my belongings into an unacceptable configuration.

At 10 am I head down to the beach, even though it's ridiculously hot and humid. Sitting in the shade, trying to read the newspaper, is almost unbearable. The paper melts into the sand like a piece of cheese. No breeze any more to stir the pages. The paper gets so soggy the pages stick together and the ink gets all over everything. I give up and throw it away. I pull out my ITIL books and start highlighting them so I can create a study document. My highlighter is liquefied and leaks all over everything.

I decide to go for a swim. Clumps of sand and salt float on top of the water like kitty litter. It's disgusting, like a huge ship carrying styrofoam has exploded off the beach. The water is around 95 degrees. Two lebanese girls get into a screaming match with a local. They say "Just because you're from here you think you have the right to talk to me?" He responds "Call the police, they will arrest you for being drunk" (the girls are standing in waist deep water with some kind of tropical drinks).

I check out my damsels. There are even more of them today. I see 7, including one big one I've never seen before. I also discover on the wall that separates my beach from the boat inlet, 2 crabs. They climb up the wall, and when the sun hits them they scurry back down the wall into the water.

I go back to the shade and try to read, but it's too hot. To put things in perspective, I've twice hiked across the grand canyon in 128 degree heat with my dad, carrying about 40 lbs of water. This is worse, and I'm doing nothing but sitting in the shade.

I go back to my room and find 3 filipino boys cleaning it. None are over 5'4" or 90 lbs. I slice up a pink lady and offer it to them, as well as some cold water from my refrigerator. My room feels hotter than 80 degrees even though that's what the thermostat says. Two of them sit on my bed and talk. It sounds like they are saying "la de la la la la, la LA LA de la la". I sit at my computer and try to work on my ITIL guide.

One kid gets about 5 towels and tries to bring them in my room. I'm like "Stop! I only need one towel!" He puts the towels on my bed, goes back to his cart, and bring two more in. Great. Eight towels. I could have a beach party.

Dasan shows up and yells at the guys sitting on my bed. I think. He says "la la LALALA de la la!" One leaves and the other gets the vacuum. He vacuums the inside of my closet, and then my running shoes. He vacuums so close to me (I'm sitting at my desk, working on my laptop) that I'm half tempted to pretend I'm being sucked into the vacuum. Dasan picks up my ITIL books I brought to the beach and holds them while the kid vacuums the sand off of them.

I finish my study guide and call my parents in the lobby, since my phone doesn't work well in my room. I go outside and immediately feel like someone has wrapped me in a wet towel and put me in the microwave. You can see when someone has been outside. They look like they've been through a rain storm because hair, clothes, and skin are all oozing and clammy, like we're all in some kind of horror movie in the first stages of fever that will eventually lead to us all becoming flesh eating zombies.

At 7 PM I go downstairs and attempt to walk to a sandwich shop. It's too hot. I feel like I'm going to pass out. So instead I order room service.

I like to make my tray into a small piece of artwork before I put it outside my door with a theme reflecting my feelings about the dinner I've just eaten. Tonight's theme was "your pita bread sucks". Usually, I like pita bread. But here, seriously, it tastes like pita bread that's been frozen in the refrigerator for 6 months and then reheated for too long in a microwave.

I hid everything except the bread basket in the bottom of the tray. Then I made some flower petals out of the pita bread, and put the packets of butter at the center. They really did look like flowers. Then I turned the bread basket upside down and used the little mustard and mayonnaise jars as eyes on top of the basket. I took a pepper strand left over from my salad and used that as a frowny mouth on the basket. I fashioned my napkin into an arrow of sorts, pointing at the pita flowers.

I don't know if they'll get it. They'll probably think I've lost my mind due to the heat and humidity.

They may be right.

polo

On Friday Ireland and I went with a group of people to watch a polo game between UAE and Palastine. We stayed in Dubai for the weekend, for free because of my hotel points, in a five star Sheraton.

I just realized this weekend that everyone I work with is independently wealthy. These guys show up for parties and stuff driving Mercedes and porsches, even the kids who are in their early 20s. And they all talk about boarding school and shopping at Gucci for suits. It’s weird.

Ireland straightened my hair so I would look somewhat presentable. I wore a pink dress I bought 10 years ago for $15 at an outlet store, my grey flip flops, and a little sweater that Ireland picked out for me. Everyone else was wearing designer clothes. To sit in the grass. Hm.

The polo game itself was fun. You get to sit in the grass about 10 feet from the field (though, most of the people at the game were in the stands on the other side of the field). During the match the horses and the ball sometimes ended up very close to the spectators in the grass.

The game lasted for only about 2 hours. I was kind of disappointed. After I figured out what was going on it was interesting to watch. I had a horse that I really liked because he was badly behaved. He got taken out after the beginning of the game to rest (they play half a game and then switch horses).

We had gotten there an hour before the game started, but then the game started late (middle eastern time). Then we decided to keep eating and drinking (over the course of 6 hours 8 bottles of champagne, 4 bottles of white wine, 3 bottles of red wine, and one bottle of rose and vanilla vodka were consumed), and before we knew it the sun was going down. The palastinian polo players ended up parking their range rovers and sports cars right next to us (we were, at that point, 9 single girls) and they came over and asked us for some food. One player, named Mohamed, wanted me to go to some party with him. I was like “uh, no thanks”, prompting him to spend the next 45 minutes telling me how rich he was until finally Ireland noticed my hand waving and told the guy to go away.

One of the girls that was at polo with us used to be the world champion at wake boarding. I talked with her for a long time. She has a friend named Squash who is going to climb everest this year. We compared knee scars.

After polo we went to a place called the Irish Village. That’s when the night got a little chaotic. We met some guy who was in a band who couldn’t decide which girl to hit on so he tried making the rounds with each of us. Some bad behavior was going on as one of the brits started ordering shots. I was sitting at the end of the table, since I was the oldest, trying to make sure we didn’t get kicked out or arrested.

Finally, Ireland and I decided we were tired and we went back to the hotel, thinking we could have a night cap in the lounge there, called Moods. If you saw the advertisements for Moods through out the hotel you would think it was a rocking joint. It was actually full of really old men and prostitutes. It was so depressing we just stole some matches and left.

Ireland and I are going to Petra in a few weeks, and I really glad because I was going to go by myself. It should be fun!

my day with a fashion consultant

With the software conference looming in 4 days, and me with nothing to wear, I was really starting to panic. I tried to manipulate Camile, who does my hair, into shopping with me, but she had to work. She suggested I call Nordstrom's and arrange for a fashion consultation.

I went at 10 this morning and met Jessica, my consultant. She's about 21, is studying at modeling school, and wants to design her own clothes some day. At 5 feet tall and skinny as a rail, she was quite impressive storming around like the CEO of some company in her vertiginous heels. She was dressed in a perfectly fitted suit and this cute shirt. She definitely had style.

I explained my situation to her and told her that I have only ever worn Tahari suits. So we went over to the place where they had Tahari suits and Jessica started picking stuff out. "Do you like this?" she would ask. "Um, sure," I would say. I said that for everything she picked out and she started to get exasperated with me. Finally I was like "I don't care what the suit looks like really. I hired you to find one. I didn't realize I was going to have to pick it." I was getting very, very bored, and we had only been shopping for 15 minutes. It felt like hours.

So then I told her how I wanted something Audrey Hepburn-ish. She looked at me with my bedraggled hair (haven't washed it since I got it cut), my flip flops, and the rest of my disastrous outfit, and said "Audrey, hum".

We found 4 suits for me to try on, and then she asked if I knew my size. I thought I did so I told her I was an 8. I tried on the first suit and Jessica commented that I was supposed to unzip the skirt before putting it on, and that the suit was way too big. She asked what size my pants were and I told her they were a 6, and then brightly suggested that maybe my size was 6 instead of 8 and that sometimes I get my numbers confused. Jessica gave me a whithering look and said "NOTHING that you are wearing fits you. Those pants are WAY too big. It looks like you don't even have an ass." I mentioned that a lot of people say I don't have an ass and maybe that was the problem, not my pants, which I found quite comfortable. "Everyone has an ass" Jessica sighed, collecting up my four wrong sized suits.

"You wait right here and I'll be back" she commanded. Happy that my plan was working perfectly I pulled out my New Yorker and settled into my dressing room. I was hungry so I started eating some baby carrots I had brought with me.

"OH MY GOD, ARE YOU EATING IN HERE?" Jessica shrieked when she returned with the suits. She made me wipe my hands on a wet nap before I was allowed to touch the suits. I offered her a carrot and she wrinkled up her nose. "Slimy. Yuck." I decided to not take the insult to my carrots personally.

I tried on those 4 suits, and then 4 more, and then 4 more. I told her one was too twirrly, one had a weird belt that I couldn't figure out, one was a bright pink and black suit that Jessica swore Audrey would have worn, but I seriously doubt it. I was also having problems with my arms. The skirts all fit but in most of the long sleeved jackets if I so much as moved an arm Jessica would cringe as the fabric seemed ready to burst at the seams. Plus, my arms are about two inches longer than they should be, so wearing a size 4 jacket made my arms look ape like. And I kept having zipper problems because they connected the skirt to the jacket with this plastic thing and if I didn't put everything on just right I got all twisted up.

"I can't move in these things" I complained. "Why can't I just get a bigger suit and then I'll pin the skirt so it doesn't fall off?" That's what I usually do if I don't have time to get something tailored. "You are SO not going to do that" Jessica yelled. "Why do you need to move your arms so much anyway?" "Well, there might be an emergency where I have to move my arms a lot" I pointed out. Jessica rolled her eyes at me for the millionth time. "Then you could always take the jacket OFF."

Finally she found me a really cute linen and wool mix suit that had short sleeves so my arms didn't look weird. And it really does look kind of Audrey Hepburn-ish. Next stop was the shoe department, a place I used to love to go. But I'm not crazy about the current shoes, and Jessica was having a hard time finding something for me to wear.

"You really can't wear a sandal with those" she said, pointing at my feet. They're sunburned with a flip flop pattern because yesterday I took a conference call on my porch and when I'm in the sun for more than 5 minutes I burn. A few of my toe nails are white from painting my brother's house last weekend. And I have multiple blisters from my flip flops. I mentioned to Jessica that my sister had gotten me some pedicure stuff for watching her dogs, and that I just hadn't had time to use it. She gave me a doubtful look that anything might improve the look of my feet.

Jessica's boyfriend called around the time we had been through all the wedges. I told her there was no way I would wear a wedge. Before the wedges she had me try on some shoes with a 5 inch heel. I was like no way in hell, I will fall and break my ass on stage. Jessica and her boyfriend were in a fight so I told her to take the call. "Wait RIGHT here" she said "And DON'T buy ANYTHING until I come back and look at it".

As she was walking away I spied something interesting. It was a sandal, white, covered in lady bugs. The shoe was so horrible it was fantastic. I immediately wanted to try it on. So I asked for the shoe in my size and the shoe department lady looked at me doubtfully. "Jessica said to try those on?" she asked me. "Uh, yeah, I think those were the ones she said," I lied.

When they came I put them on. They were even more appalling on my feet. I did a little dance move in them because the monstrous lady bugs jiggled around whenever the shoe moved. I was standing in front of a mirror testing out different foot flex positions to see what would happen to the lady bugs when Jessica walked back and screamed "OH MY GOD! WHAT ARE YOU DOING???? TAKE THOSE OFF NOW!" The lady in the shoe department gave me a dirty look.

"But Jessica, these are my lady bug shoes with special lady bug robots on them. I'm going to infiltrate the conference and then take the whole thing over with my lady bug robot army." I smiled at her and she burst into tears. I felt bad so I took the shoes off and agreed to a pair of boring cream colored heels, even though I spied a pair of semi metallic heels that were amazing. "I saw on the show what not to wear that you can wear semi metallics in the day time" I told Jessica when she said I couldn't try those shoes on. She gave me a look and said "Well we aren't ON THAT SHOW ARE WE?"

It turns out while I was trying on the lady bug shoes Jessica broke up with her boyfriend and that's the real reason she started crying, not the lady bug shoes. She wanted me to follow her around to "accessorize" my suit but by then I was totally over shopping, and Jessica's mood had deteriorated to the point where it was obvious the perfect storm was just over the horizon. Instead I took her to starbucks and she told me what had happened regarding the break up. I told her the guy she was dating was a complete loser and that she was way too beautiful to put up with his behavior. I told her if he tried to get back together with her that she should kick him in the nuts. After a mocha whatever that thing was, and more pep talking, her mood improved.

We went back to the store and I was ready to buy my suit and shoes. The problem is, I had forgotten to ask how much the suit was. It cost $500. I had set a budget of $350. Surprisingly, they gave me the price I wanted. And luckily the shoes Jessica picked out were about a quarter of the cost of the semi metallic ones I wanted.

And now I have something to wear to my conference so I can cross that off my to do list.