Did you see her? She sat in a watercolor sunrise, watching Monday morning blossom into chaos and routine.

I wanted to take a picture of her, luminescence in a painted blue sky, but I remembered that I hate people who mess with their gadgets in the car, so I let it well enough alone. I committed her image to memory, keeping it safe until I had time to commit the view to paper. And when I do, I think she will outdo a picture hastily taken.

So, yes. I have joined the ranks of the cell phoned masses. Actually, it was David’s idea. He saw my unease during Charley, not having a way to reach anyone, needing contact. And in emergencies and odd situations it will come in handy. Will I talk more on the phone? Hell no, but at least you should usually be able to get in touch with me. I still prefer IM’s, but that is not always the most ideal form of communication. So, if you want the digits, let me know. The house line is going down at the end of the week. Less cords, less clutter.

David and I put most of the fence up this weekend. It was good to let the boys out to frolick in the grass without having them wander off beyond the gaping hole, into traffic. I found that I am pretty good at weilding a hammer in tight places. But we must wait for a saw to put the rest of the fence together. There is only a three foot space left, and the section of fence is eight feet long. Five feet too many, so we just cobbled together a temporary solution until we can get everything properly done.

The weekend turned out a little different than expected. Friday we went to Red Square to see Sarah. She made a Jager Bomb and I was done. But I thought I wanted to go to Barbarellas…uhm… I mean Independant Bar. David thought it was a bad idea. No sense in reliving the past, but I felt the need to dance, so we went.
It was eight bucks wasted. I walked in and saw a few faces that I recognized, but as a whole, the club world has turned and shifted and I am no longer a part of that world. It’s wierd. I remember when peopel used to dance, using arms and legs to show grace and pelvic thrusts to show…well…that they wanted to fuck. But these kids (and I do mean kids) just pop up and down and shake like they are having a seizure. I don’t get it. Every now and again you would see the swing and sway of one who dances like I did, but they were virtually swallowed by sweaty eighteen years olds with bad hair. Shit. I’m getting old.
I have a special place in my heart because that was where I met David. But I realize now that 4 years is a lifetime in the club world, and sometime’s you just shouldn’t go back. So I don’t think we will. It was just too…too….sad.
Saturday turned out unexpectedly. One guest was a no show while the other joined us for drinks on the veranda (I’ve always wanted to say that, but I know it doesn’t make sense since we were just on the porch). She left around 8:30 - and I was already intoxicated. I batted around the idea of going downtown but realized that Friday night tarnished me. So we called Chris, who is always good for conversation and company. Unfortunatly I was already soused when he got there so I wasn’t making much sense.

You ever get that feeling like you know what you are saying and the other person has no idea?

So, I have a phone with a camera. I have taken pics of Pip and my desk at work. Yay for me. I am sure that I will continue to play with my new toy like I have the iPod and my laptop. I will admit this to the world : I am a spoiled brat! But at least I am a spoiled brat who can call her Mom when hurricanes hit.

Hero = Badass movie and a MUST see in the theatre. The colors and sound will overwhelm you in that enviornment.