The Hotness

The weather continues to be sweltering. Temperatures in the high nineties have left every known swimming hole slam packed with people. Friday evening and Saturday were spent at racetracks, drinking water non-stop and hoping for a breeze. But Sunday, oh sweet Sunday, was spent at the river. And what a glorious day it was. I would love to share some pics, but in my excitement to go swimming, I forgot my camera. Maybe next time.


Clicking through my photo file, these three images called my name. You can almost feel the heavy late summer heat coming off of them. How about that outdoor shower? Not a necessity, but definitely awesome. That little patio is one of my favorites. Perfect for some chit-chat and a big glass of sweet tea. And the pool.... well, it needs no explanation. Let's just say that I am very jealous.

So, what do you do when it gets too hot outside?


*1 & 2 from Sunset. 3 from Haute Design.

Why I ............ dance.

Let me tell you a little secret about myself.
I used to be a club kid. I spent every weekend on the dance floor. I was at my favorite club so often that they quit charging me entrance, stopped carding me and even gave me free bottled water. I knew the owners. I knew the bouncers. I had "breakfast" with the deejays at 4:00 in the morning when the place closed down. I came to life in the strobe lights and pounding music.

Something else you need to know about me and the club. I didn't drink. I didn't do drugs. I refused so many pick-ups that its crazy. I went to the club to do one thing and one thing only.

Dance until I was wet with sweat and sporting a perma-grin.


To this day, the one thing that can always make me feel better, even in the depths of serious depression, is dancing. I love it more than breathing. I love it more than food. I love it more than sex. Yeah, I just said that. Dancing, to me, is something that comes from the deepest part of the soul. It's emotional. It's liberating. It's beautiful. It's primal. It's instinctual. Even those people who insist that they can't dance, will move to the beat of music when no one is watching. Babies dance and bobble to music without ever being taught how. We are all born with it inside of us. Yes, some dancing looks better than others. But if it comes from somewhere real, there will always be something beautiful about it.

I dance because it makes me happy. It fills my soul up and makes it overflow with appreciation for my body, my life and my God. I dance because it makes me forget about everything else. It's an escape. I dance because something deep down inside of me is moved by music and I just can't help myself. I dance to feel alive.

And sometimes, sometimes......... I dance to remember who I am.


*awesome, inspiring photo from jmorco. check out her store for some of the coolest handmade dance, workout and swim gear. oh, and some seriously envy inducing abs.

Perfection

If there has ever been an ensemble that defined fashion perfection to me, this is it.


There's nothing else to say. Well, maybe go check out the entire Preen collection. The rest speaks for itself.

Words of Wisdom....

As I have said before, I have never been one to set goals. I make lists. I never set actual goals. But at this point in my life, I have come to realize that I should be setting some higher standards for myself. I have always believed that creative inspiration is like a divine blessing that you have to wait for patiently and then pounce upon when it shows itself. But after years of waiting and pouncing, I have decided that in order to get anything accomplished, I am going to have to create my own opportunities. It is time to set some goals.


I have been listening to B.o.B. and Eminem's song, Airplanes, over and over lately. {I do this until I can sing all the words. It's insanity, I know.} Anyway. The last lines of the song really sunk in deep. It's interesting that some of the best advice in life comes from rappers. If you haven't heard the song, go search it.

Em is talking about what would have happened if he had never reached for his dreams. He starts by saying
"Let's pretend Marshall Mathers never picked up a pen.
Let's pretend things would have been no different.
Pretend he procrastinated, had no motivation.
Pretend he just made excuses that were so paper thin,
they could blow away with the wind........."

And he wraps it up with:
"He never risked shit.
He hoped and he wished it,
but it didn't fall in his lap so he ain't even here."


So on this Friday, at the end of yet another week, I am working up a clearer definition of who and what I want my life to be. What do I want to accomplish in the long run? What do I need to do in order to get there? This time I am tired of making excuses and waiting for some divine motivation. God gave me the talent. It's my job to make something of it.

Let's get to the job of creating ourselves. What do you say?


*awesome quote from Slumber Designs.

The Case for Black

In the debate of black or white interiors, white tends to get most of the praise. White is considered a perfect backdrop for any other color or style. A blank canvas, just awaiting your design genius.

However, I must say that I have been quite drawn to the idea of a blank slate instead these days. Black has been so famously dismissed for so long as a less than sane interior backdrop. Just like black fingernails, it has been banished to dark clubs and the walls of angst heavy teens rooms.

On the contrary, I think that black interiors can look way more sophisticated and smart than white ones. I'm not saying that I'm going to paint everything in my house black. But these gorgeous settings above drive a hard case for black. Don't you think?



* don't remember where image 1 came from. fill me in if you do. 2 here. 3 &4 here.

Serious Issues.

I think that my mini-post yesterday was quite misleading.

At that particular point in time I was dancing. Dancing around my living room like a fool to some awesome new dance/techno tunes that I obtained. The most of the week [while not at work] has been spent rolled into a little ball in excruciating pain....... to which my doctor just says "I don't think you have endometriosis. But we would have to do laparoscopy to find out for sure, and I'm sure we don't really want to have to do that. "

Like hell we don't want to do that!!!! What we want is to find out why the crap I feel like there are aliens making weapons in my abdomen!!! FIX IT!! I don't really care if it involves scraping my innards with a dull razor blade. If it will make me feel better in the long run, do it!


Okay. So when I receive a moment of perfectly medicated relief/bliss, I spend it dancing around like Shiva Rae in a rain storm. This is a "Why I" post in the making, friends. Just so you know.


The heat around here is making people a little crazy. It's hard to sleep at night. I want to spend every dime of our savings to build a pool. And then I want to stay in it. It hasn't rained in forever. The grass is dieing. Flowers. Poor flowers. They just stand around with their heads down.

So what is there to dance about this weekend, my friends? Well, I'm thinking it just may come in the form of a Celtic Rock concert. Yes, indeed. Guys in kilts, rocking out. Sounds good to me. Maybe a dip in the river on the way home.


In other news, you seriously have to go check out this website. I have laughed my hiney off. This one gets added to the favorites for sure. Don't ask questions. Just go see for yourself.


Happy weekend, darlings! Go do something fun.

*photo from the fashion bloggess.

Pssssst.

Sorry I'm on hiatus. I'm busy dancing.

And wetting washcloths with cold water so I can go to sleep in this crazy heat.

Confession:

I can't stand country music.

Now, don't take it personally. If you like country music, that's cool. I will even admit that there are some really great songs and artists out there. But it just isn't my bread and butter.

The guys at the shop here are on a country music kick. That's all I have heard (dimly, behind the beating and banging and grinding and cutting) for months now. And I just have to say that it's getting on my nerves.

Country music. Don't like it.