Vacation school

I don't think you guys understand, I'm serious about the goat.

On Friday I booked two weeks off of work--the last week of August and the first week of September. This is the longest amount of time off I've ever taken.

Lisa and I were discussing her vacation plans the night before when I told her that I had just recently discovered I still had my full three weeks of vacation to use up this year, as I'd only used the three days I carried over from last year so far.

"I just don't know how to take time off without having a place to go," I told her. "The last time I did that I just ended up calling my mom a lot."

That's when Lisa told me she would teach me how to go on vacation without actually going anywhere. Lisa has the last two weeks of August off, so from August 25-29 we are going to do all the things that ladies of leisure do, like sleeping in and meeting for coffee, followed by pedicures, followed by lunch, followed by shopping. We were watching the episode of Sex & The City where Carrie just got engaged to Aiden and Miranda suggests that they both go try on wedding dresses at some gaudy dress shop.

"We should do that!" Lisa said.

So also as part of my vacation, we are going to pretend that we are engaged to be married and have horrible fashion taste. Bring on the butt bows.

I'm not sure what I'll find myself doing for week two, but once Lisa teaches me the ropes I figure I'll be able to manage okay on my own.

But now I have my own basil

I had a Red Shoe House meeting at The Agency today. Karen, my old boss, met me at the door of the building to let me in. She was on her way out for a cigarette.

"Stay outside with me for a bit," she said. So I did, and enjoyed the familiar feel of it all. I used to step outside with her all the time. She'd have her smoke, we'd talk about work or non-work things, or not really talk at all.

"How are things going?" I asked.

"Busy busy as usual."

She used to scare the shit out of me. She can be hard to read, hard to figure out, and I know I'm not the first person who's found her a bit cold. The thing was, I would see her be all friendly with other people, but whenever I was my light and funny self she'd just stare blankly at me like I'd just suggested we tell the restaurants they should stop selling the big M hamburgers. Still, I missed that place the moment I left, and every time I go back to the office I get nostalgic. When I found out they were hiring for my old job again (this time at full-time hours) I contacted Karen right away and asked if she would have me back.

"The highest I could pay for that job was XX thousand," she said, which was a good seven thousand below my absolute minimum.

"Yeah, I sort of figured that," I nodded. "but I had to ask anyway." It was a little heartbreaking though. I've worked hard to be able to pay for this house and Truck all by myself, and I'm proud of that, but what if I wasn't single? What if I was with a guy who was making decent money and sharing the bills? Or what if I still lived at home? I could be working my dream job again. I could buy new clothes and shoes every month again.

I did one of those carbon footprint quizzes yesterday. I got points docked because I live alone in a house. Single successful women are environmental burdens, as if we don't feel bad enough (some days, only on some days we feel badly). I just want to point out that because I live in a house and not an apartment I can recycle, compost and choose my own energy efficient major appliances. So I think those things make up for the fact that I am the only one benefiting from turning on a light switch (connected to a CFL bulb, I might add) or enjoying my back yard (where I grow tomatoes and herbs instead of buying the imported ones from the store. Blueberries and raspberries to come. If I could keep my own cow or goat to eat my grass and yield milk, I totally would).

Karen and I chatted a bit more outside. I have to say that I felt a new level of comfort with her. I wasn't the shy, wide eyed rookie anymore. The job will most likely go to a recent grad. She will love it, or at least I hope she loves it and appreciates all the opportunity it will offer her.

Oh to be young again. I did not know 26 qualified for any kind of wisdom or wistfulness.

I know this much is true

Last Saturday was the first day of summer (I think. I saw on another calendar today that it was actually on Friday.). It was a grand day for me because the construction in my kitchen was wrapped up and Lisa and I went for gelato. As we often do whenever we get together, we discussed our latest big idea for becoming independently wealthy and able to support our shoe habit. This week, we came up with a novel concept for a bar that would specialize in nachos and cupcakes. As we walked back to Lisa's I spotted a store that sold only cupcakes and so I decided I wanted to check out the competition. Once inside, I found myself more interested in the guy serving the cupcakes than in the confections themselves. Back at Lisa's we watched several episodes of Sex & The City, which always gives me hope for the existence of a Nice, Normal and Utterly Attractive Man.

Moral of the story: Cool, creamy treats in the evening yield fairytale dreams that sometimes do come true if you are willing to take a chance.

Yesterday, after a long and somewhat depressing Monday, I came home to find a shiny, clean, vacuumed Truck, courtesy of a wonderful man I affectionately call Dad. He said he did it because I had to wait so long for him to do the reno on my kitchen.

Moral of the story: There are days when you feel glum because someone doesn't quite appreciate your specialness as much as you appreciate his or hers, but then you may often come home to realize that there is someone who appreciates your specialness very much, and in fact, it will make you wonder how you deserve their appreciation at all. P.S. I love you.

There was a bit of a storm last night and my power went off. It was around 10:30 and I was in my room, playing around with Mac. My room is the coolest one in the house (aside from the basement). Once the lights and the modem went out I didn't have much to do. I was tired after not sleeping the night before so I closed my eyes and waited for the power to come back on. I knew I'd have to reset my alarm so I didn't really want to fall asleep until after the power was back on. It seemed to be taking an awfully long time though and I eventually drifted off. I think I was dreaming about work when my bedroom light and the radio suddenly came back to life a few minutes before midnight. I wasn't terribly disappointed that dream was cut short but I had a hard time remembering how to reset the time on my stereo/alarm clock.

Moral of the story: You may find yourself going along, doing nothing particularily important and then suddenly interrupted by someone else's failure. Failure has no sense of timing and is often, at the very least, mildly annoying, but sometimes you can just sleep through it.

Pole-ish dancing

When Tonia told me she wanted to get a group together and take a pole dancing lesson for her birthday, I have to admit, I was really excited. I've never even seen Showgirls, but I had a feeling this was something I could rock. It turned out I wasn't quite a natural, but in the end I was looking pretty good.

The dance studio was on Henderson Highway in the cleaner, suburban part of the north end. I first wondered if our instructor would be a Playboy Bunny type with a name like Tawnie, but the woman who greeted us as the door looked more like my Aunt Iris.

Locked beneath the surface of an over-thinking perfectionist, there is a dancer in me. I know it. Any time I've taken a dance class I've found that I spend the first while trying to master the moves instead of just feeling it. You can totally see the focus in my face as I try to remember the sequence. I was a bit disappointed that my approach to the pole was the same. But, once we got to break loose and do the fireman's pole twirl, the diva dancer in me broke out, and it was hot.

We learned a few moves and then we had a chance to put them all together as a routine. I had done some research before the class on popular pole dancing music and decided my song was You Can Leave Your Hat On. Before approaching my pole I requested the instructor cue up the song.

"And what is your sexy pole dancer name?" she asked.

I grabbed the pole, cocked my hip, and proudly announced, "Candy Lipps." Yes indeed, the diva was out, and it was awesome.

After the lesson we met up at Confusion Corner Bar & Grill for drinks. I soon learned that four of five the beautiful girls I had just danced with were also looking for love. Tonia got up some liquid courage and found some guys to invite over to celebrate with us. Suddenly, we had plans for salsa dancing next Friday and a party in the country at the end of the month.

"This is going to be a really fun summer," Judy said to me as I drove her home. And yeah, I think it just may be.