Ciblek Mania

Sorry for the downer posts this week.  Truth is -- every once in awhile how can you avoid it?  I guess I could lie and jump on the good ship lollipop, but I don't do fake very well so it would probably fall flat anyway.

Let's get to part two of this saga.  Bear in mind it all took place within the span of a few hours, so here we go.

Shortly after Pat told me her news, there I was glued to the couch in a state of shock when the loudest heavy metal guitars started up next door. The doors and windows rattled as some fool tried to rap along to it. Death metal + rap = bleeding ears.  In an instinctive act of fury I threw a t-shirt over that same electric blue tank and sweats and stormed down the stairs -- without shoes or socks -- and over into Pat's yard noticing her neighbor's doors flung wide open in total disregard for her state of being.

"Hey! HEY! Do you guys know Pat's sick?!?" Suddenly I realized I was standing in a stranger's living room.  A drug smoking crazy person to be exact, but I was so furious in that moment I didn't even care.

And did they know Pat was sick?  Yes they did--admitting it like it was no big deal.  They paused temporarily and didn't skip a beat as one asked, "Are you new here?" but in more of a 'you must be new here and are about to learn I do whatever I want" tone.  Oh hell no you don't.  No.you.do.not.  It was right around this time that the wheels flew off the carrie bus. Imagine 5'3'' woman in outfit akin to pajamas minus shoes and socks with hair sticking out everywhere wildly waving arms around yelling/hissing, "I've lived right over that fence for 10 years you idiot! And I've put up with you for one, but not anymore.  Pat's operation is tomorrow and you're going to knock it off RIGHT NOW!"  Then another pipes up, "Did she send you here?".....Take a moment and absorb. Did she send you here? Um. What?! I had an out of body and could see myself go off.  I ripped a hole so big one scurried off and another tried to tell ME to bring it down a decibel.  Zip it. Pot meet kettle. I don't think so.  This scenario brought out the blind fury of dealing with one too many selfish people within a span of days.

When the last one standing reached to take a guzzle of his beer I could feel myself on the verge of completely snapping so turned on my heel and stomped off, back to my own yard, bare feet pounding up the stairs just in time to hear him mumble something beneath his breath.  I'm glad I didn't hear what it was because in that moment I may have leapt over the fence and tackled him to the ground.  Of course moments later I was terrified, but in that moment not so much.

Next thing I knew these imbeciles were at Pat's house knocking on her door asking if she minded the noise...I'm not kidding.  30 year old morons.  This is your brain on drugs.  I heard her ask them to please stop and leave, which thankfully they did.  Nerves at an all time level of shot I quickly got ready and headed to a barbecue before they could chase me down.  Without even realizing it I donned the most ironic outfit:  a mix of favorites to make me feel safe and secure while expressing "do not mess with me".  It caught me by surprise when I was weeding through the pictures today.  Wild, wild, wild:  the internal expressed by the external.  Sometimes we are what we wear.  Wish I had a lion head to put on.  A fake one, of course.

Cut to scene and Saturday found me having to politely ask the neighbor to turn down his heavy metal music that not only rattled my windows, but certainly deafened the elderly couple who share a wall with him.  Possessing newfound 'eye of the tiger' I skedaddled off into the living room to take on Level 3/Day 1 of the 30 85 Day Shred (woot!) before terror could grip me, later emerging victoriously to clean up and don the Drew Barry inspiration for an afternoon out.  I think it was a hit because even though I had mad bags under my eyes the Chef noted how well the outfit suited me, and even told me it did not remind him of Ma Ingalls when I gave him the Little House on the Prairie interrogation.  Little trivia for you:  I'm a master at Little House on the Prairie and believe I have seen every episode.  I used to dream of being Laura Ingalls running with Mary and little sis Carrie through the grass as Ma and Pa pulled up in the wagon.  

I know I carry on about FP a lot, but they really do have some very cool pieces 

of jewelry that are not overly expensive.  You have to weed through, but the treasures

you emerge with make it well worth the look.

Somehow I'm thinking Laura Ingalls may not have been up to speed on my studded sandals, but
I'll give her a pass - she was too busy wheeling Almanzo who had to be 15 years older.
What a vixen.
Scene of the noisy music crime lies just in the background...hours earlier I
had leaned over in a much more disheveled outfit *think purple tank and beige JP sweats*
with tossed salad hairdo to match, bellering out:
'Hey! Would you mind to turn that down a smidge?'
To which I got blank stares in return.  Of course I did.  They couldn't HEAR me over
the heavy metal screams.  Is that music? Ears bled for miles around.
And then I was off to release my patchwork dreams which have recently
threatened to turn my home into a scene out of How to Make an American Quilt.
Painful on so many levels.

I've never really seen myself as a maxi skirt person and would like to take this moment to thank Carey from Corks & Caftans for what I think may become an addiction.  At first I felt as though I'd conjured up Laura, Mary and Ma Ingalls all in one, but once I hit the desert it was straight up Dances with Wolves (or as my friend Andy would say - Dances with Wool- when blanket is present.) only I opted to pull on a long ribbed tank over top to mix it up.  Suffice it to say a fave new outfit has been born.  

  Blanket and I wanted to build a fire.  We're considering relo to a tee pee.

Details on skirt = magic.  I can't stop wearing it around the house.
Head over to Facebook to catch more pictures of blanket from this post -
all taken in Hipstamatic and totally ridic.

Anyway here's to brighter and warmer days ahead.  My heat's back on just in time for the work week, and Blanket is on standby.  Friday are you out there?