a happy, happy heart

A fruitful day of organization does a girl so much good.

Love, love, love.

Thanks for the technical assistance, Pickle;)

myrtilles et peches, oh mon!

We're burning down here in the Lone Star State. Burning. A single day with a high only in the double digits would be very much appreciated. Apparently it's coming our way soon. Promises, promises. In the meantime: needed a little reminder of the nicer side of a Texas summer. Local peaches and blueberries anyone?

times, they are a changin'

Clayton's asleep in the other room. And I love that. Because a late afternoon nap is totally his prerogative as an official resident of our already much beloved home. Day 2 of cohabitation has been lovely. No other word could better describe it. Waking up late in our ridiculously comfortable bed, brunch with friends, and an easy afternoon spent on the couch watching movies. Lovely. And about to get lovelier still as I break from blogging to start the getting ready process for our celebration dinner. We're getting all dressed up for what promises to be a truly inspired meal at a new place we've been meaning to try. A great end to a week away from the grind and a great beginning to Clayton's and my evolving relationship as roomies. Good stuff;)

no white flags here

Yesterday went to me. No question. Worried, however, that today might go the other way.

Off to a good me start with a very satisfying sleep in, freshly ground Oak Cliff roasted coffee, sweet iPod randomness, and no pressing need to change out of my pajamas. But up ahead there's a looming table delivery problem, anticipated hours spent packing up Clayton's apartment (cohabitation starts tomorrow!), a few separate feelings of obligation, and the unmistakable smell of a vacation week that's starting to get a little over ripe.

I think I'll take a happy stroll around my house, barefoot with a Donald Duck coffee mug in hand, and see if I can't find that pleased as punch feeling I was hoping for.

Afterall, I really am more of a no surrender kind of girl. Defeat just doesn't look that good on me.

marching forward

Managed to win a few battles, but as my week off nears it's end I fear I may be losing the war.

Most of Monday I spent at the grocery store and prepping for a Southwest themed dinner party. The food - Southwestern sloppy joes, cilantro cole slaw, and potato salad made a little kicky with the addition of a few cayenne peppers - turned out perfectly in my modest opinion. I pushed my personal spicy envelope to cater to some of my guests and everyone seemed happy with the resultant heat. But the overall evening was frustrating. Really frustrating.

I love cooking for people, having them in my home, entertaining. I told everyone that we had to eat at 6 because Clayton and I had to leave the house at 730 to make a 8 pm kickball game. I thought I'd made myself perfectly clear. 1 person offered to bring stuff to make frozen margaritas - yay! Another wanted to bring guac, chips, etc for pre dinner munchies - double yay! Yet another was supposed to do dessert but opted out which was completely fine.

But what time do you think my guests arrived? Margaritas arrived at 6 on the dot and apologized profusely as she walked in the door because she realized that she had misunderstood the timing. I, however, was plating dinner as she came in and we were able to sit down to eat shortly after. No biggie. Dessert then walked in at 620 while I was finishing my sloppy joe. Chips and dip got there at 625.

I love all these people. I love what we usually do which is sit around for hours enjoying each other. Getting a little tipsy on the drink/cocktail of the day. Instead I had to kick them all out at 730 and leave my kitchen a mess because of all the screwed up timing. And I really, really hate that. I know that none of them were being intentionally inconsiderate. It just left a really bad taste in my mouth. It took away all the fun. Maybe realizing that it all meant more to me than it did to them? I had even put a little cactus arrangement on the dining room table and wore my chili pepper apron that my Grandma made me. I really got into it - I love a good theme! And the only one who noticed was Clayton. And he's a boy. A really good, sweet boy. But still a boy. It all felt a little like wasted time. Ya know?

Gotta move on.

We won our kickball game and went out to celebrate afterwards. I possibly took it a tad too far (people kept buying me shots) and Wednesday was basically a wash as I spent the majority of it in my bed.

But today I'm taking back my vacation. I'm headed out to buy myself a cup of coffee. And maybe some eggs. And then it's on to a movie. Maybe a little shopping. Dinner tonight with Clayton and friends. Greek. Greek always make me happy:)

Look out Thursday. I'm a girl on a mission.

at full alert

I'm starting a little stay-cation action this morning. Work (and life in general) has just been ridiculously busy as of late. So the prospect of a week spent in whatever way I choose sounds like heaven. Of course, I've already got a list a mile long of stuff that really needs to get accomplished this week. And this mile-long list is at war with a much more modest list of wants:

I want to read a book while sipping homemade lemonade and laying on my brand new hammock.

I want to teach myself to bake bread for an upcoming Italian themed supper club later this month.

I want to go see a movie. All by myself.

And I want the time to walk around my house - just pleased as punch that it belongs to me.

I'll keep you updated on all the battle details!

promises,promises

I swear I haven't dropped off the face of the earth. It's just this whole buying a house thing. It's kicking my ass. Seriously. Kicking my ASS.