what day is it?

friday? saturday? oy. i left my part time Big Girl job early tues to work (well, allegedly to FINISH) the dreaded fairy wings. by that time i was sooo exhausted that i came home and decided to take a quick nap. 3 hours later....what was the point of leaving early??? plus, i now had to make up the time on friday, my day off. so i went in at 1pm, being the overachiever that i am, rather than 2pm as required. i've redecorated my cubby, with Dreamweaver wearing his Chinese coin necklace and a small sculpture i did that includes a small porcelain doll head in a small brass birdcage. just let it rip, i said. the crow apparently creeped out more than a few people, however my very Goth boss thought it looked fine....her husband makes life-sized zombies in their basement, and they have a real, live casket down there that their cat sleeps in, so i guess she would have a certain appreciation. so when i came in friday, despite being underslept, i noticed a few sideways glances. my cub-mate started chortling and filled me in that during the 8am meeting, when it was question time, a new girl raised her hand and asked what the deal was with the crow. my immediate supervisor said "it goes with the voodoo doll by her calendar. it's harmless, but don't piss her off." so by 1pm, the interest was high...the air rife with speculation. and i arrived wearing red cowboy boots *gasp* in the corporate office. my boss's boss's boss (Ms. Big, 3 levels up, mezzanine...ladies handbags and millinery), (who, by the way is the Best Boss i have EVER had and is definately artworthy), (wtf is millinery anymore?), anyway, where was I? oh, so i got to work, noticed the looks, oh yeah, and made my usual rounds saying hello to each and every coworker. i got to HER office, and she asked me to come in, sit down, and close the door. okaaay. so i did what she asked, but left my coat on just in case. "Chicos?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, referring to my red leather jacket which i had just decided i didn't like - too Michael jackson-ish. too late to return-ish. "of course," came my reply, "matches the boots." "ahh. so now...(pause) ..the crow." "Not Chicos," i replied. "alive? ever alive? how did it become not alive, if indeed it is not alive now? i was told your father is a taxidermist..." "father died. He wasn't a crow. Sold shoes. Do you believe the crow is alive?" "do you?" "i asked you first." "not sure...could be...but very quiet...very, umm, distracting. and this voodoo thing..." "no voodoo...i'm a Jew. Jews don't do voodoo. it's an art doll." "ahhh" Meanwhile, this whole thing feels like a verbal duel at high noon, except the combatants are actually friends and are actually trying to square off in a tickle fight. (not that my boss and i are THAT close, my friends...let me make that clear.) she was trying to keep a straight face and thought she could THOUGHT she could make me sweat. i was, but it was the damn jacket. so that started my friday off at work on my day off. about an hour later, despite the frantic hordes of salmon swimming upstream to my phone line just to call me a stupid bitch, i just had enough and logged off my phone. i was sleepy and was afraid i'd let go with some Real Thoughts, which were definately nearing the frontal lobe of my brain. a short trip from there down the sinus cavity and to the mouth. (not a scientific explanation of what may Actually Occur, but ...) the Control Center was hanging on, but barely. and then, and then, i made a fatal mistake. knowing i had a few zillion hours of beadwork ahead of me, and i still had to slog thru 3 more thankless hours of being smacked about like an emotional pinata, i broke down and swallowed my last Concerta. about 30 mins later, with all systems "go," i realized that i would be humming like a machine for about 12 hours more...that put it at about 2-3am saturday. i was supposed to go back to this job at 8am to help catch up with the paperwork. oy. needless to say, i called it a day around 4am, slept till 8am when diva had to pee, then said forgetaboutit to work and (drum roll!) TA DA! finished the fairy wings!!! i had hoped for a more epiphanous moment when i took that last stitch, but done is still done. HOWEVER...in the midst of my midnight frenzy, i had a Thought. a Big Thought. there are a t-o-n of art retreats, art festivals, workshops, etc on the west coast...not so much on the lonely east coast. upper east coast. so i started planning one. i think it's do-able. i'm pretty sure i can do it. much easier than fairy wings by far. (all tasks will now be measured by the fairy wings). so i am setting about planning the East Coast Art Retreat. stay tuned. i probably should use all that event planning experience i never got paid for in radio, right? not to mention the 5 cancelled weddings ( 1 the day before...which is way better than the day after). i've been itching to plan something big, and since i'm still married, it would seem impolite to plan my next wedding. i think that's what bugs me the most about everyone keeping the details of my surprise birthday party a secret...i love to plan these things..in fact, i love the planning almost more than the actual event (where i sweat and worry that Something Big will go wrong). my husband is absolutely wild with glee that HE knows what i don't about the details...the taunting and teasing. i whine and beg and plead for just one stinking detail, like WHERE it will be so i can be dressed appropriately. he says , "okay...it's somewhere with a roof." hardy har har. that isn't even an intelligent ruse of a response. by the time this shindig hits, i'll explode. from the time i was a kid, i always reconned for my christmas presents (always always in the hall closet behind the health & beauty supplies and mom's douchebag. sorry - it's the truth). (you know, i'm from a generation that has seen so many innovative products come and go. i mean, i remember rotary dial phones, and pay phones that cost a dime, and the douchebag. do they even make them anymore? i love the sound of the word. the word "shower" in French is "douche." when i was travelling in Quebec with the band, there were some French-speaking girls with us, and 1 of them put a sign - in French- on the shower that loosely read, "something something something douche something de bain." the rest of us wondered, and certainly wore our flips flops into the stall after that.) back to my point - i'd carefully open them, (the presents, if you remember) peek at them, then rewrap them. it didn't ruin the surprise...it made the anticipation sweeter. and mom thought i was psychic for a while, when we had to go thru the whole, "can you guess what it is" routine as we held the gift, shaking it a little (or one year, riding it around the livingroom...hmmmm...what could it be? a hamster? nooo. a bike? no scratch that - doesn't count bad guess...a bike would never be WRAPPED like a bike and have 2 actual wheels, a seat and a kickstand...hmmm). (and i say christmas, but it was actually Hannukah, which is actually 8 days of christmas when you're a kid). i just COULDN'T stand NOT KNOWING. this NEED didn't diminish as i got older. and as i approach 50, the "need" is joined with this feeling of entitlement. i tell my husband, "so now, if i'm hit by a bus and die before this party, you'll be left with the knowledge that i could have at least gone to my grave knowing that there was a nice party planned for me, and i could at least envision it as i made my way to the bright light through the tunnel." unfortunately, my need to know is overshadowed by his immature need to lord it over a person that "he knows something you don't know." maybe i'll hit him with a frying pan. the ones he got me for christmas last year. lordhavemercy. cookware. i swear. no wonder i pre-shop for myself. i have never been a "thing" person. i love getting a heartfelt gift as much as the next person, don't get me wrong. but it truly is the thought that counts. now look at me going on like i had more Concerta....now look, my angelfriend Georgia is in India...she left today. i went to the grocery store, she went to India. our lives are very different. follow her at http://www.scottstours.com/ ....makes me want to travel. except for the planning, packing, shots, ugly passport pictures, dogsitter, you know, that stuff. so goodnight - pics of the wings tomorrow. you deserve to see what you've been reading about and rolling your eyes over. Linda