I love events.  Today is the big day.  Yesterday  Luiz and I fought all day, but we had a fruitful talk, last night.  I went out for awhile, and during that time, he pulled cards and it helped him gain perspective, and he was ready to not fight.  Thank goodness.  I still didn't get to sleep till 4 am, but, at least I didn't have to get up early.

So, Susan called last night, and offered to come with me.  My client is also friendly with her, and invited her to this book launch.  It's right in Susan's neighborhood in Brookside, she was like "We'll ride together!  You won't need that Google thing!" I love Sue.  Sweeping in like a wine-drunk superhero.  Driving to Queens was giving me fits.  FITS.  Now, I have SueBe!  A hilarious, witty, funny friend, and driving partner.  This is one of those events that's shaping up to be more and more fun.  One of those days where I feel like "holy shit, I'm getting paid for this, I am living the dream."  I am getting paid a lot for this.  Like triple my going rate.  There's something nutty about getting "tipped" 75%

I slept right in, ate some Taco Bell for breakfast, had some quality time with Luiz, we watched a show and cuddled and had sexytimes, and I am just easing into the day nicely.  I am looping Whitney Houston on full blast, and singing all the frogs out of my throat.  After I finish here, I am going to take a huge long, cool spa-bath, where I bust out all the expensive shit and really take care of myself.  The only thing that's making me grumpy now is the fact that is, as ever, 90 degrees F in here, with a soupy 65% humidity.  You could take little bites out of the air, it's so thick.  I might have to take my makeup bag in the car, to beat the mug.  You cannot powder over sweat.  Worst case scenario, I have good skin, and a nice tan. For non event stuff, I'm getting away with bold lips, and mascara.  It's nice to be 37, and still have the skin of a twenty year old.  Well, I still get zits, so...maybe not always so nice.

I feel good.  I have my shit together. I haven't decided what to wear yet, I was going to wear the green dress, but my table stuff is all emerald green, I don't want to be a wall of green.  That's the only piece of the puzzle that hasn't slipped in yet.  I am making money today, and I love money.  I am making connections with new people today, and I love new people.  Like my therapist says of herself, "I am an introvert, but I love engaging.  I love going to parties, and meeting new people...as long as it's on my terms."  Yaass mawma.

Holee fuck, it really is never a day without bullshit.  It's like...I say I need a peaceful day to handle some shit, like the lawyer stuff, the phone call that I waited for that never came, and preparing for tomorrow.  Nevermind why I need quiet, just...that I need it.

Three.  Separate.  Times.  Luiz came into my space, and started shit with me.    The actual reasons so petty, I'm not even going to get into it.  But they're all different and subtle, and fucking annoying.

It's like...I say I need a little tranquility, and I sort of moved shit around in my life so I can have a nice day, and there's a smell in the area that attracts him.  Like blood on calm water or something.  And the most infuriating thing is instead of leaving me in peace on days like today, he will come in and start conversations, all motherfiucking day.  Being annoying, saying annoying shit, bothering me over and over again with stuff that interests him and him alone....and then HYPER SERIOUSLY OVERREACT when I answer in kind.   He pops in here about twice an hour with some annoying shit.  I pause what I'm doing, writing, reading, going about placing a phone call, gaming, listening to a book, watching a show, neverfuckingmind, I pause it, every half hour to hear whatever he has on his mind.  I respond in a salty manner maybe once all day, and that escalates it into a huge blowout.

He succeeded the last time, because the answer is, if he doesn't remember something and I do, the obvious answer is that I am lying. If it's not in his memory, I fabricated it. He said that to me point blank.  That's just, the answer.  But, he won't let that answer die, because it doesn't make his ego feel good, so he will manipulate and harass and demand apology for me...because we remember the event differently.  I am ready to let it die at "ok, we remember things differently." Like I give a fuck.  But he won't let it die till I am full blown admitting that I'm deliberately lying, he was prepared to chase me from room to room, yelling at me because I'm lying, and Irv had to shout at him. By the way, this was about a game. That's stock fight thing number one.  It's getting super predictable.

Stock fight starter number two, which happened earlier this morning.  I say a thing, in a neutral tone.  He raises his voice into this self righteous boom (think:  "how DARE you?!!")...that's when it starts.  I am under no circumstances allowed to have sass, salt, or any sort of assertiveness when I speak to him, or I will get HOLLERED AT, accused, towered over, and generally berated. He's so fucking dense, that sometimes I am getting mad on his behalf, right?  Like I'll say something like "fuck those guys! They don't get you!" and he turns that fucking booming voice on me, and then I not only have to take all this time talking through his self righteous ego armor, like "no, I meant...no I'm not being salty with you, no...I meant fuck *them*" .  So, if he gets offended, no matter if I'm saying something good, bad, or neutral, if it triggers his very sensitive ego reaction, I am in for an afternoon of aggression.

His third stock fight is just straight up not doing something he needs to do around the house, till it becomes a hazard (see, 3.5 days of dishes left to rot in the sink in high summer...) and when someone brings it to his attention, he lashes out like an angsty teenager.  That one is getting super tired, and even Irv who never gets involved will tell him to stfu.  But, it still happens from time to time.

And of course, today is the day his 'friend' decides to pop by unannounced and walks in the house without knocking.  I'm not saying they're correlated, but...I'm just gonna note that here.

Irv got home a while ago and asked if I wanted to go do a few errands with him, and I said no, that I'm still waiting on the phone call, and that I would like a restful day.  I am living in a fucking fantasy world if I thought staying at home with Luiz in that weird aggressive "fuck with Lisa" mood he gets into would be any more restful than getting carted around to various stores.Getting smashed repeatedly in the face with a heavy book would be less anxiety inducing.

Yesterday was on the busier end of the spectrum for me.

I had my first reading at 9 am, then just ongoing stuff till I got home after 10 pm.  I had four timed appointments, and errands to run in between each thing.  This is the kind of day the planner was made for.

I got to therapy on time at noon, wrapped that up at 1, went across town to Count Basie to pick up tickets for a show.  Then I stopped at the Asian market on 35 on the way back, for some veggies and lunch.  There was nothing really there to ready to eat, though, so no fun Asian lunch.  Sad, because the place that used to be in the same store had a great bakery and hot food counter.  I could go in there and eat a good meal for like three bucks.

I had to pick up Luiz and get him to our accountant's office by 2:00, so I skated in the door at 1:45, which is when he informed me that we needed to go find an ATM...but we got there.  Then I went to my nail appointment at 2:30, which was nice, and necessary.  I figured fuck it, I got the full treatment, nails, pedi, brows.  Got out of there close to 5.  We hit Wawa again because Luiz was hungry, and I picked up dinner for Irv too.

Then I had another tarot appointment capping off the day.  It rained later in the day yesterday, so the dudes didn't have work, which meant Irv came to the shop with me.  We got there at 5:30 appointment but long story short, she wound up showing up at 7.  I expect this.  I am flaky, and I have flaky clients with busy and anxious lives.  We're friendly, so we chatted for awhile, and her reading wrapped up at 9:30.  Irv hung around town, reading his Kindle on park benches.  I thought for sure he would mosey on over to the Pig Out for a beer, but he was feeling low key, I guess.  Anyway, closed up shop, and was home by 10:30.

The only thing I really needed to do yesterday that I didn't get to was go grocery shopping.  We're getting perilously low on the staples, and I was annoyed that I couldn't squeeze it in post nails, pre tarot.

All that, just to make today easy and bullshit free.  Which is a fantasy, of course.  There's not one day in my life that doesn't come with bullshit.  This morning, I already fielded three work related emails, Luiz started his usual shit, trying to egg me into a fight, and I'm sitting here very anxiously awaiting a phone call.  Irv handed me a heap of checks to take to the bank.   I should honestly be cleaning, but to really clean, I need to powersmoke a bowl, crank loud music, and just get down to it.  That's not a mindset to field a potentially very important phone call.  The bathroom is gross, and it can keep being gross until I get the time to clean it, or someone else deigns to do such a lowly and filthy job.  Also, it's 92 degrees in the house right now.  Fuck. That.

During all that running around yesterday, Emily called from DSW, our contractors, and wanted to talk in depth about our work scope.  Which is good, because the one she showed me was pure crap, completely inaccurate.  She hit me as I was running around, and I asked her to call back today when she had a chance, so we could go over it in depth.  I'm waiting on that call now.  I hope hope hope it's better than the one she showed me... I hope hope she calls me...Every time they say "we'll call" and they don't, I play harder and harder hard ball.  If she doesn't call within the next 4 hours, my plan B is calling a law group that I've been in contact with.

Today I also need to go into the shop and get my shit together for tomorrow night.  I needed a day of peace today, to mentally and physically prepare for it.  It's not the party that's causing mild  anxiety, it's the drive to Bronxville which, in traffic could be a 5 hour ride.  Long drives to unfamiliar neighborhoods in other states for events causes me mild panic. I have to run in today, to get my tarot on the road kit, which is decks, stones, my business cards and info sheets, my sign up sheets, decor.  I'm so not ready.  Not only is my bag not packed, said bag still has beach stuff in it.

I hoped to have a day to recuperate, Thursday, but already on the schedule is getting my license renewed, grocery-fucking-shopping, Luiz wants to make a date out of it.   Then we have to hit Costco.  Then I have a full work day Friday, and Saturday, and a party to go to Saturday night.  Maybe I'll relax Sunday.

I always say "my schedule is flexible" but, that's because I plan in such a way that allows it to be.  It doesn't mean I'm not doing anything.

Fucks sake.  The struggle was real yesterday.  I didn't feel right till like after 8 pm, and even then I took it easy and called it a night around 11.  No more drinking, Lisa, ok?  Drink because you like the taste.  Don't drink to get drunk.

  I kinda hate days like today, where everything's staggered.  Had a reading a half hour ago, then I have therapy at noon, so there's a 2.5 hour window.  Then after that, I have something coming up at 2, which could take an hour...it could take four hours.  Then I have another reading at 6:30 tonight....which could take an hour, could take three.  I wish could somehow condense the whole thing for efficiency, or just do my Red Bank stuff today, and then the Keyport stuff tomorrow.

In between all that, I need to go grocery shopping, hit the box office at Count Basie, Costco, and I need to get my nails done for Wednesday.  Also eat.  I have to remember to eat.  Plus, this fucking house.  Saturday I didn't clean.  Yesterday I could barely blink and breathe.  The house is falling the fuck apart right now.  The bathroom is becoming uncomfortably dirty, even though I wipe down all the surfaces every day.  There's just crap building up, and the to-do list spools ever longer.

And because Wednesday is such a thing I feel like I'll need a peaceful day tomorrow, to get my shit together literally and figuratively. I'm reading for a book signing.  I don't feel anxiety for myself, but I do feel a little bit of anxiety for my client, who's book is getting launched.

 I need a spa day.  I need to sit in a sauna with a shitty fantasy novel and just sweat for a half hour.  I need a hot tub.  I need a cold plunge in a pool.  Last night I was looking at Groupon for good spa deals.  I miss the spa at Revel.  I'd probably go there Thursday morning as a day-cation.  Reality:  Spritzing myself with the hose, while watering the garden, then sitting out in the backyard for a few hours.

I have been itching to write all weekend.  It's been fun, and there's lots to talk about, but it's Sunday and I think I am hungover.  Not entirely sure.  Either way, I am powering through this.  But let it be known that I feel like I am going to puke, my stomach won't stop lurching.  I have a very pervasive headache that's making it hard to focus on words, typing, writing.  Not sure if I drank too much, or just had a rough night sleeping.

I had an appointment with a customer, that she postponed till Monday.  That's the only work I had lined up for Saturday, so when she messaged me, I was just pulling into town.  I drove right past the shop and parked down at the beach for a while.  If I were prepared, I would have gone right into the water.

That's literally off a parking lot, in the Atlantic Highlands.  So pretty.  

So, I went driving around some, yesterday, and felt domestic.  I went home, and started preparing drumsticks and stuff for dinner.  I figured if Saturday was a wash, I would at least treat us to a nice meal.  Irv got home a few minutes later, and we went out to Samahas for veggies.  So dinner was corn, chicken, and baked beans at like 10 pm, out in the yard.  

We stayed up late and watched Paris Is Burning on my laptop.  Luiz had never seen it, and was moved to tears.  I cry every time I watch it.  We drank too, I was drinking Jim Beam over ice with lemon, and I don't know if I drank too much?  I haven't really had hard booze in awhile, and it didn't feel like too much. I didn't feel wasted, but I certainly woke up in a sorry ass state.  I don't know, but it's turned me off to drinking further.  I do like a beer or a cocktail, now and then, I like drinking culture, but I cannot do hard drinking like I used to.  

I have more stuff to talk about, but I'm already struggling at this.  Friday night we went to the County Fair, spontaneously.  Today is Sunday, and sort of a wash.  I have more pictures to share.    

So today is a shop day.  As in, I am normally obligated to go into the shop and sit there from one to at least six, but usually on a Friday it winds up close to 8-9 pm.  In June, somehow it was decided that I can't use the back air conditioner anymore, because it draws too much electric.  So, to make a long story short, it's hot, stuffy, and it fucking stinks.  The cat shits all over the floor downstairs below my shop-space, and without AC...ugh.  And no, I don't clean up after the cat anymore.

Lately, I just go in 20 minutes before an appointment, to set up.  Today is no different.  Lauri is coming in at 4:30, I'm going to leave here around 3:30.  

I woke up feeling good, rested, and ready for the weekend.  Most people greet weekends with glee, as a restful couple of days, I have the opposite. Tomorrow and Sunday are typically shop days too. Most of my procrastination issues center around going into work, and not the actual work part, but the dread of just being in the shop, and dealing with the most toxic person I know, Meredith.  I'm going to bring this up with Nancy on Monday.  If I didn't have an 'appointment' with a friend, I wouldn't even go.  I even have to frame it as an appointment, when really this woman is a neighbor, and will mosey on down some Friday nights, just to hang out.  She brings a bottle of wine, we smoke weed, I do some funtime readings, and I don't charge her.  Her husband tips me in Sour Diesel, and generally they'll bring me treats, food, but their company is enough.  If I'm not driving, then they'll bring me booze, too.  My favorite kind of customers.  If it didn't attract the wrong element, I'd put on my sign "will work for weed, food, and booze.".  But the point is, I have to write it in the planner or else I'll find myself canceling, which is stupid, because they're good friends, not customers, and I look forward to seeing them whenever I can.


Today it's about 80 in here, but with all the fans going it's super comfortable.  Still a little moist for a full face, so it's a lipstick and mascara day...only red lipstick today.  I take a selfie or two every day, because I'm trying to get used to seeing myself in pictures.  I have no problem wiggling into a bathing suit and taking it on the road, but I do struggle with photos, and my image online.  So, here's to conquering that.   This is what I have to work with today.  I'm changing into one of my bazillion black sundresses when I go out.   On a scale of 1-10. I give about 3 fucks today.  

I have long wanted to keep a personal, online photo journal, to go along with my mundane daily musings.  I love looking back through my pictures on Instagram or just through my phone.  Not momentous occasions, but like daily stuff.  I hate this living situation, I hate this house, but there's good here too.  We have moments of beauty.   He was so cute, sleeping with Jinx this morning, for example, that I couldn't resist.   I love the colors, and the way the sheets looked.  I love the peace here.