So, the husband and I went to see The Proposal last night (great movie, btw.) The evening started out on a bad note - we were going to ride jet skis but when we pulled up to the lake, he realized that he had left the keys to the boat trailer at work. So there we are wondering how we can salvage our date night. Well, Plan B turned out to be fabulous, at least for my self-esteem.
Let me back-up, I've not had the greatest week on several levels. On Monday, I realized that maybe I need to step it a notch in the beauty department. I was hit on by the ugliest lesbian ever! I guess my tired blue jeans and T-shirts aren't doing me any favors. I'm sure the usual ball cap doesn't really paint me in the best light either.
Several other things have happened this week, too, but I don't want to go into them on this blog, but let me assure you, I am really looking forward to vacation next week!
So, now back to last night at the box office. Like I said, I thought we were going to the lake so I hadn't fixed up. However, when I asked for two tickets to see The Proposal, the cashier asked if I would like to use my student I.D. to get my movie discount! If there haden't been a pane of glass between us, I might have hugged her! She salvaged the week! Thank you movie girl!
Friday, July 24, 2009
Friday, July 10, 2009
Summer time...
Ahhh... here we are in the middle of summer. Who says there is a shortage of jobs out there?
I have taken on several summer jobs, and they are going quite nicely. I'm working part-time as a taxi driver and have basically three clients, except on days where they have a friend with them. So far, the only tips I've gotten are kisses, hugs and grins from the back seat, but hey, that's the best kind.
I'm also working as a gardener where my herb, tomato and pepper plants are flourishing. I've even been able to use my abundance of basil to make six batches of homemade pesto, which got a thumbs up from one of my four-year-old regulars at my chef gig. Last night, I even threaded some fresh zucchini onto rosemary spears and grilled them - kind of fancy for a place that seems to cater to kids.
One of my most fun jobs is as an art gallery curator. The pesto loving 4-year-old is attending art school this summer and has filled our home with her beautiful creations. The Louvre better look out!
I put in for a few hours of vacation and used that time to create my own masterpieces. See, I've always been awed by pottery. (Blame it on "Ghost" which was one of favorite movies in high school!) Watching people create these beautiful pieces of art on a pottery wheel seems magical, at least it did until I started taking a pottery class.
Yes, I signed up for a night pottery class. Before the class started, I was imagining beautiful pots and gorgeous vases dotting the landscape of my home. I could already feel a swell of pride knowing that I was going to create such masterpieces.
The first night, we were handed a 25-pound bag of clay. I was surely going to need way more than that to make all of my pieces! The teacher explained the basics and sent us to pottery wheels to start our designs. (Nevermind that I didn't really understand much of what he told us about glazes, centering and firing.)
After gathering all of my tools, water, towels and beating my clay like he had shown us, I finally sat down at the wheel. Hmmm, now what was I supposed to do? The teacher was already off working on his own things so there I was with this ball of mud and a bowl of water.
I slapped it on the wheel and began making the most beautiful... uh, well, I'm not really sure what you would call it. The sad thing is that the pitiful little thing is the best thing that I made all night!
Since that night, six weeks ago, I have also made a mug, two votive holders and a bowl - none of which I set out to create. Yes, at their inception, each piece had promise of being a tall vase that would grace my mantel. However, somewhere along the spinning wheel, each piece of clay would fold over on itself and fall into my hands like mud from my flower garden. Being the resourceful person that I am, I made what I could with what I had.
Now, I am the proud owner of a miniature mug (they didn't us that things would shrink in the kiln), a thumb/rose holder (my first creation), a hideously tiny bowl and the two votive holders.
When I brought them home, the reviews were mixed. My husband said, "that's what you've been doing for six weeks while I watch the children?" The pesto-loving 4-year-old said that they were beautiful and that I was an artist just like her! One out of two ain't bad, but I don't think I'll add "potter" to my list of summer jobs next year!
I have taken on several summer jobs, and they are going quite nicely. I'm working part-time as a taxi driver and have basically three clients, except on days where they have a friend with them. So far, the only tips I've gotten are kisses, hugs and grins from the back seat, but hey, that's the best kind.
I'm also working as a gardener where my herb, tomato and pepper plants are flourishing. I've even been able to use my abundance of basil to make six batches of homemade pesto, which got a thumbs up from one of my four-year-old regulars at my chef gig. Last night, I even threaded some fresh zucchini onto rosemary spears and grilled them - kind of fancy for a place that seems to cater to kids.
One of my most fun jobs is as an art gallery curator. The pesto loving 4-year-old is attending art school this summer and has filled our home with her beautiful creations. The Louvre better look out!
I put in for a few hours of vacation and used that time to create my own masterpieces. See, I've always been awed by pottery. (Blame it on "Ghost" which was one of favorite movies in high school!) Watching people create these beautiful pieces of art on a pottery wheel seems magical, at least it did until I started taking a pottery class.
Yes, I signed up for a night pottery class. Before the class started, I was imagining beautiful pots and gorgeous vases dotting the landscape of my home. I could already feel a swell of pride knowing that I was going to create such masterpieces.
The first night, we were handed a 25-pound bag of clay. I was surely going to need way more than that to make all of my pieces! The teacher explained the basics and sent us to pottery wheels to start our designs. (Nevermind that I didn't really understand much of what he told us about glazes, centering and firing.)
After gathering all of my tools, water, towels and beating my clay like he had shown us, I finally sat down at the wheel. Hmmm, now what was I supposed to do? The teacher was already off working on his own things so there I was with this ball of mud and a bowl of water.
I slapped it on the wheel and began making the most beautiful... uh, well, I'm not really sure what you would call it. The sad thing is that the pitiful little thing is the best thing that I made all night!
Since that night, six weeks ago, I have also made a mug, two votive holders and a bowl - none of which I set out to create. Yes, at their inception, each piece had promise of being a tall vase that would grace my mantel. However, somewhere along the spinning wheel, each piece of clay would fold over on itself and fall into my hands like mud from my flower garden. Being the resourceful person that I am, I made what I could with what I had.
Now, I am the proud owner of a miniature mug (they didn't us that things would shrink in the kiln), a thumb/rose holder (my first creation), a hideously tiny bowl and the two votive holders.
When I brought them home, the reviews were mixed. My husband said, "that's what you've been doing for six weeks while I watch the children?" The pesto-loving 4-year-old said that they were beautiful and that I was an artist just like her! One out of two ain't bad, but I don't think I'll add "potter" to my list of summer jobs next year!
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