He's so mercifully free of the pressures of grace/Saint Peter in satin, he's like Buddha with mace

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To be the words that never made the page/Be the one that's always/Left out in the rain

When I posted my last estate sale finds, I was vaguely aware that there weren't enough...things to account for my happiness with the sale. I blame the sun frying my brain all the subsequent afternoon that I forgot six of the best things I bought. D'oh.

First, I got two identical metal serving trays, about 18 inches square. I've already put them to use, which is perhaps why I forgot to photograph them immediately.


And then, this set of four leaf trays, made from subtly sparkly plastic. And for all six of these items? Two dollars!

Sweet like the way it was/like swimming for the very first time

Late Saturday afternoon I found out that, due to his co-worker popping some stitches in his knee, Steve would be off work with me on Sunday (it also meant he had to work an 11 hour day on Saturday. It was predicted to be a gorgeous, hot day and I knew I wanted to do something outside, but I had no concrete plans.

We woke up early Sunday morning and Steve, brilliantly, suggested we go to the Sunset Hills pool. What a perfect idea. The pool is one of the few in the area open to non-residents and we've spent a good deal of time there in summers past. It's not one of the new fancy mega-pools, just a basic smallish place that caters to families. It's a testament to how much I love sitting by the pool that I don't even mind, heck, I even enjoy, the constant stream of shouting and splashing children.

But before we hit the pool we wanted to visit an estate sale in nearby Webster Groves. Stepping into the garage it was clear I'd find some good stuff -- the lady loved her paper products and was clearly a most active shopper in the late '60s/early '70s. I immediately grabbed some '70s paper napkins and plates, a little box of really cute post card notes, two hostess sets - one a bridge set and one a set with various napkins, coasters and matches(!), and box of smallish bird print notecards and envelopes.











And finally, I got a nice chunk of '70s kitchen fabric in those classic yellow, red and brown tones. This will definitely become the property of a certain reader if she wants it. I bought it with her in mind.


I also got another very excellent item, but it must remain a secret as it's not for me!

So, on to the pool! It wasn't very crowded and it was getting quite hot when we arrived. Slathered in not very protective tanning oils (me) and SPF 30 (Steve), we proceeded to lounge in the sun, dipping into the pool occasionally. It was kind of like heaven. Some 3+ hours later we gathered up our things and I realized I had not been very prudent about sun protection. Nothing like the season's first sunburn! My face is rather red, and my formerly fish belly white stomach is quite burnt. Hot to the touch and and hurting. But no matter; it'll turn to tan soon enough.

A stop at the grocery store on the way home got the ingredients for a barbeque and we spent the evening on the deck eating and drinking a delicious bottle of fume blanc.

A great day.

If I was the sun I would shout/I've got so much shining left before I'm out

I found out at kind of the last minute yesterday that I had one spot on the guest list for the Phantom Planet/Hush Sound/Motion City Soundtrack/Panic at the Disco show that night. I put out a couple feelers to see if anyone I knew was going to the show, though I knew it was rather hopeless. As much as I love Phantom Planet, I have come to [mostly] accept that none of my friends share that love. I also knew that, as a woman of a certain age, I would be presumed to be a parent to some pubescent attendee. Ugh.

So I debated, a little. Should I go alone to a show knowing no friends would be there and miss a band I really, really like? Or suck it up and just go? From the way the bands were listed, it looked like Phantom Planet would go on first so I could escape early, having no real interest in the other bands. On the promise of an early start/early exit, I decided to go.

I got to the Pageant before 7:00pm and it was already hopping. PATD had their beautifully painted tour bus outside and some booths were set up to give away something or other from their corporate sponsor, Honda (not very rock and roll, really). When I picked up my ticket I was handed two. What the? Steve's contact had assured him that since the show was sold out he could only spare one spot on the guest list. But don't look a gift horse in the mouth, even a last minute one. Since I had talked to my co-worker Karen about the show before leaving work, I called and offered her the extra ticket. She would meet me there after she got off work.

The venue was packed, though the bar area wasn't terrible since the majority of the crowd was under age. Phantom Planet took the stage promptly at 7:00 pm and proceeded to charm me as always. They were very energetic and charming and didn't seem to mind opening the show. Halfway through their set they played their great song, "Big Brat" with members of the Hush Sound helping out on extra percussion. So great and raucous. During their last number "California" (their most familiar song, it being the theme song of the show "The O.C.") Alex Greenwald somewhat wistfully asked the crowd, "You guys do know we wrote this song, right?" Their set was soon done and it was only 7:31.

Unfortunately, Karen hadn't arrived yet so I had to hang around. One more beer and some wandering and then the Hush Sound's set, which wasn't bad but neither was it particularly memorable. The kids seemed to love them, though. Their set done, I bought another drink, closed my tab and waited for Karen's call. She finally called and I met her in the Halo Bar and gave her the bad new that I was bailing. I had gotten up at 3:45 am that day and worked for 9.5 hours so she understood. We talked for a bit then she headed into the show and I headed home. A rock show, drinks and home before 9:30 - a dream come true for an ageing hipster.

Internecine

I woke up this morning with the word internecine reverberating in my head, not even sure of its definition. I suppose it's not entirely unlikely since I had a weird night of sleeping/not sleeping, my in between dreams so vivid I was quite sure I had never been asleep at all. Well, except when I awoke from a dream of myself and Colin Farrell starring in an action comedy. Sadly, I cannot recall the plot, but it was funny, and better than your average Colin Farrell movie.

Maybe the constant loud thunderclaps and torrential rains contributed to putting such a violent word in my head. Steve was similarly affected: he dreamed he was an assassin (he cannot recall his target) trying to prove his innocence despite a swastika and a scrap of paper with the words "harmony in my head" written on it found in his car. Of course it makes no sense, but it's odd that the Buzzcocks figured in his dream.

Not much else to say. I have to prepare a crock pot of soup before I head out to work. No three day weekends for retail wage slaves...

Another Sunday dawned with both Steve and me off from work. Yay! First stop, back to my work to load up on caffeine and the miracle that is my company's +Energy supplement. It's a wonder, I assure you. A little visiting with Michael, Lisa and Emily and then on to an estate sale, our first of the year. This was in the rather schmancy neighborhood off Wydown, just west of Big Bend. Most things were priced ridiculously high - a sheared beaver coat for almost $10,000????? Seriously? The house had lots of art reproductions, weird Louis XIV style furniture, and most frightening of all, a table in the basement laden with surgical and medical equipment, including an evil-looking heavy metal speculum. *Shudder.*

I didn't get too much at the sale, but my money got me this:

I have no idea what this book is about, but holy cow! how about that overwhelming amount of phallic imagery? The tool belt, the tool, the smoke, the scarf, the spikes and, oh, maybe the GIANT POLE he's hanging from. Wow.

And I can never resist random boxes of old sewing stuff:

I haven't even had a chance to root through this stuff yet. Can't wait to examine all the buttons. The little leather case holds a bunch of pretty and odd keys. I love old keys.

I also got a set of tiny tin molds (what were those things for?), a vintage paring knife and a couple of gifts that I must not reveal here. So, all in all, not a bad haul.

Next stop was Trader Joe's for stocking up on cheap wine and good frozen stuff and Dierberg's for various groceries. Woo hoo! Aren't we some kind of party animals? At least we made it home before the torrential rain started.

Now I must stop dicking around on the computer and try to be creative...wish me luck.

Wake Up, Charlie! Let's Go to Candy Mountain!

Yesterday I spent the daytime hours in an extended online psychoanalysis session with a friend. It wasn't on purpose; it just evolved from our conversation and I ended up having at least two epiphanies about a lifetime of my behaviors. It was quite revealing, upsetting and relieving at the same time. Remember that sun analogy about me a while ago? Well, I'm not sure I applied it in quite the right way when I received it. During the course of the conversation yesterday I realized that I was always looking at things solely from the point of view of the sun; I've only thought of burning, not the burned. Or something like that. I'm not sure I'm ready to articulate it all yet.

Here's the other thing that's mildly interesting; I have four tattoos and, arguably, all four of them have an aspect of the sun about them. Two overtly and two implicitly. Is it possible I've just realized this? How stupid does that make me look? But on the other hand, whoa. Did my subconscious place me at the center of my universe long before I realized I had done it? So I want the world to revolve around me; is that so wrong?

After the hours of analysis, I had an evening of working with Michael ahead of me. It was just the two of us for several hours - talking, bickering, gossiping, laughing. It was barely like work and, in reality, it was barely like work. Both of us, separately with a different co-worker, are able to get out of the store barely one half hour after closing, the store looking great. Last night it took us nearly 50 minutes to get everything done. D'oh!

We had decided we were going to go out afterwards and we decided on the Loading Zone again. Steve opted to meet us there and we headed down the street to start drinking. The bartenders were adorable, the patrons were okay looking except for one beautiful emo-haired boy. Some guy growled at me as I waited for the bathroom to become available. I'd like to think it was a sexy growl, not a 'get out of my gay bar, vagina-bearer' growl. Later he came and managed to touch Steve, me and Michael a few times in passing. Strange guy. At any rate, we got drunk. Kind of stinking drunk. The drinks were going down like water and they kept coming. While I'm a tad hung over today, I don't regret a moment. It's been a while since we've just sat in a bar and drank and laughed and acted silly and I was really happy to have Steve and Michael there to do it with. And this time there were no bitchy old queens who made their nasty little dog try to bite me, unlike the last time were at the Zone.

Re: the headline? Go to youtube.com and search for 'candy mountain.' And then search for 'charlie bit my finger.'

You gotta spend some time--love, you gotta spend some time with me

Though it's hard for me to admit it, I'm currently really digging the latest Death Cab For Cutie single. I've played it over and over at the workplace this week -- customers are going to think it's my theme song. It's embarrassing, liking DCFC; I've expressed my disdain for them on many an occasion. I'm somewhat happy to say I haven't liked anything else from the album.

Anyway, I also like the video for the song. It's an extended version, twice as long as the radio edit. Kind of melancholy, like the song.