Small Successes and Falling Failures

I would place my day into two simple categories: Successes and Failures

I woke up close to 8am this morning to wish Deb (my boyfriend’s aunt) happy travels on her journey back to the land of friendly people—Canada.  Standing in a sleepy daze, I gave Deb a hug goodbye and watched the door close behind her and her black leather luggage. My hair was a mess and my breath smelled (failure #1). I really wanted to brush my teeth, but instead I walked into the kitchen and dreamt about going back to sleep—I even climbed back into my blowup mattress (which held anyone’s focus entering or leaving the condo). Regardless of how much I wanted to lie on a plushy bed, I knew I had to start my day because Di (my boyfriend’s mom) was going to return to retrieve my ass for work.

Conscious of time, I rushed to get ready; I was sweating shortly after my shower (man Dallas can be hot). I took a shower, dried my hair, ate breakfast, cleaned up some of my belongings, washed a dish or two, and looked at my phone. I had 5 minutes (Success #1). So what was I to do? Laundry. I started laundry.  I pulled the knob and the water began pouring into the drum of the machine.  I stuffed a handful the sheets inside. My mind began to wander about the water, the laundry detergent, the goals of my day. I guess you can say multitasking isn't always my best quality. Finally, when I looked up towards the door, Di was standing in its frame. I screamed. I screamed loud enough to scare Di and she jumped from my reaction.  I would have jumped on top of the sink if I could (Success for Di/Failure for me).

The afternoon passed by slowly with few people entering the store.   As I sat by the door, I patiently waited for the next person I would have the privilege to follow around. I guess I really wanted to follow someone around…

When I realized I was going to spend more time with my phone than people, I glanced out the window to double check my assumption. Of course, I was correct: nobody was waiting for me to help them. Not one person. But, something massive caught my eye. There was a monster pile of bird doo on Di’s car (failure #3). The bird had aimed for the black coat of a 2010 Infinity (which had only had a bath a few days ago). The bird poop was impressive: it splashed and spread itself on the most of the windshield.

What kind of bird would bestow us with such a gift? An eagle? A dinosaur? I guess getting the car cleaned was a lost cause. I called Di over to examine the bird doo with me; she too thought it was impressive, but it was clear she wanted it gone.  A minute passed and Di returned with Windex and paper towels. Success! I snapped a picture of Di with her doo (I was forbidden to post it).

I suppose that the bird’s gift was a good luck charm because customers began to filter in the store more frequently—two of which were serious customers (success #3). Even after we closed the store for the night, dinner was an easy grab. Di found a front row parking space. Mind you, we had to follow a painfully slow driver into the parking lot.  They drove so slow that it was possible to learn another language: instead I used all of my energy to glare.

As we drove back towards the Turtle Creek turtles, Di pointed to the “shit smear” rubbed across her driver side window.  Who knows, maybe this falling failure was more of a success. I guess we’ll see in the days to come.

The scale of doo is bigger than the photo reveals.

The Dinosaur Doo: Look at the Wind Sheild

The Turtle Creek Turtles

So, long story short, I’ve come to Dallas TX to assist my boyfriend’s mother (say that 10 times fast) with her pop-up store on Dragon Street (www.designershowhousesale.com).  For months, the plans continued to change around what was to be done with the show house furniture. Was it all destined to remain in San Francisco?  So, when it was finally decided that Dallas would be the location for her sale, of course, I was on top of the list to come and help (that and I was excited to return to Dallas).

It is now June 18, 2011—the first official day of the sale—and my 11^th day on Turtle Creek. I’ve been to this particular location once before when Ryan (my boyfriend), Toby (our dog), and I drove from Rohnert Park, California to Turtle Creek in Dallas Texas to feed an empty house with furniture.  This particular trip is another story in itself—maybe one of which I will divulge on a different occasion.

As the opening day of the sale approached, I was assigned moving, cleaning and befriending all of our furniture.  Some would argue that I rather became frenemies with all of this outstanding furniture.  Morning after morning, I found myself waking up with bruises and various parts of my body plagued with soreness (I bet this was the case for many others working there as well).  The furniture always found a way to have the last word.  I guess I should have restarted my endeavors with Tony and the P90x before my trip.

After many hard days of work, I took a day and a half (with permission from the boss) to chill out with my boyfriend’s stepsister, Heather.  Heather, too, stood by my side for much of the befriending process of show-house furniture. She found that steaming curtains weren’t as glorious as she would have hoped—I don’t think dry cleaning will be in her future.

Heather has never been to Texas, so we took the time to explore. In between lunch at Celebrity Bakery and walking around in uber expensive stores that would destroy my bank account, Heather’s dad took us on a tour of all the slick neighborhoods in the Highland Park area.  These impressive lots of land were married to even more impressive houses.  I admit: I found these houses to be stunning: but, but, but, I also found myself wondering what could have been done with all the money poured down the throats of these houses.

The semi-thick air added to the 102degree weather as we found stopping points to go and take pictures.  The first stop was dedicated to turtles, but none were found amongst the fat-ass lily pads. Nonetheless, pictures of lily pads were taken. The Turtle Creek Turtles found it too hot to come and play—but the Teddy Bears didn’t.  Large cement teddy bears sat along the far side of the pond welcoming children (or adults—in my case) to wander onto a stranger’s property.  A small sign sat near these bears sharing their birth year—1995. I had no interest in taking pictures of a Jurassic-sized teddy bear—but I did. I even took more than one. I could only imagine what the turtles were thinking.

 

After returning to the car, bathed in my own sweat, we drove to another location where we could climb into a creek and snap some more memories.  Heather’s dad wandered the path for a few short minutes before he climbed the hill to a bridge.  We discovered a drain connected to this shallow creek that housed burnt coffee cups, towels and Keystone light. Heather and Iboth made brief homes for ourselves—not in the storm drain—but on the small path others have trailed before us.

 I was home. I was comfortable. I felt as if I was back in Pikeville, Kentucky.  The trees, overgrown, shadowed the creek timidly as the heat bounced off the limestone creating the perfect nesting grounds for tadpoles. There was an instant comfort in the insect noise echoing through the brush, and even with the scorching heat, I could have sat there for hours. I remembered chasing minnows and crawfish in our pond and I craved to do the same. Playing in water has always brought a calming presence on my soul; but, the Turtle Creek Turtle can hold it’s breath longer, so the heat can be more bearable.

Heather Taking Photo of Rock

My Photo of Rock

Bridge of Retreat

Tadpoles Baking

Prelude-The Simple Complexity of a New Blogger

After tossing and turning on a blow-up mattress last night—I resolved to construct a blog. The thoughts seemed to jumble in a clump of fur, and all I wished to do was extract them from my brain. I had thought about blogging before (partially because it was one of my assignments my last semester at SSU); however, my motivation to create this tiny monster was the result of reading both Hailey Vincent and Keri Billig’s enticing blogs (which I both find enjoyable and highly entertaining). 

For those who may be wondering about the title of my new blog—I’m not quite sure what it means yet; however, I feel as if it reflects how I am feeling about my life up to this point in time—that and I’ve just graduated college. My blogs may be filled with my thoughts and concerns or just the events that have occurred throughout the course of my day.  In all of its simple glory, I want it to be entertaining for my audience. So, you may find the genre--at times--change from simple stories, pictures of my day, ext.

As a developing writer, fear has continuously snuck into my work. I find that the beast has a way of creating it’s own words. My fingers don’t type what I want them to type and my work turns into mush and fluff. I feel if there is an illusion of safety with the blogging world. I swear to type this blog with the omission of fear to the best of my ability. I am certain, however that I am going to be as accurate with my thoughts, my past and my present accounts as I can possibly be. If you, my reader, have any other questions for me, please, please, please don’t hesitate to ask.