Good Intentions Gone Awry.

(Me and Cash after a day of playing outside)

Have you ever had one of those days where all of your good intentions sort of go wrong?  I have those days all the time so, really, it should never come as a surprise to me when it happens but sometimes I manage to surprise myself with my own ineptitude.

On Friday I made myself a mental to-do list for Saturday which included planting the rest of the flowers in our ginormous front flower bed, cleaning several rooms in our house which seem to be especially dusty, washing the dogs, and then maybe doing some laundry.  Had I done all of those things I would have felt a huge sense of accomplishment and our house and the front yard would have looked fantastic!  Sadly, it was not meant to be.

Let me back up a step here and explain that once a year, during SXSW, the famed week-long music festival, my husband Jonathan and Steph's husband Matt go to the all day event at The Continental Club which starts with Mojo Nixon's Jalapeno Pancake Breakfast and features a multitude of artists.  This year's lineup was as follows (for you music lovers):

10:00am    Allen Oldies
10:50am   Sara Petite
11:40am   Roger Alan Wade
12:25 pm  Two Hoots and a Holler
1:15 pm    The Mastersons
2:05pm     Whiskey Sisters
2:55 pm    Jon Dee Graham
3:45pm     James McMurtry
4:35 pm    The Iguanas
5:25 pm    Mojo Nixon

Stephanie said she would drive Matt & Jonathan downtown in the morning and I agreed to pick them up in the evening after the last act ended so they could save a bundle of money on cab fare.  The plan was for Jonathan to call or text me to come and get them when they were ready to come home.  I figured that I would spend my day on my to-do list and then pop downtown and pick them up (anticipated travel time = 1 hour) and then Jonathan and I would have a relaxing evening at home.  

My day started off on the wrong track when, instead of getting up and starting to do my chores, I opened up my laptop and logged into Facebook while turning on the TV and tuning in to Law & Order.  Naturally with that level of distraction I managed to lie around in my PJ's for 3 hours watching TV and writing pithy comments on FB.  Around 1pm I realized I needed to do something so I cleaned the master bathroom including the dusty area behind the jacuzzi (Nigel loves to play there).  I felt pretty good about that but really wasn't motivated to do much else so I decided to go over to Stephanie's house and "take" her time.

I showed up at Stephanie's around 3pm and, right away, I started "taking" by giving her Great Dane, Riggs, a big crunchy dog treat which he managed to crumble up all over the couch.  Score!!  Then, inexplicably, Stephanie decided we should take Cash outside to play (I think she didn't want me messing up her whole house which was my plan).  

The next thing I know Cash is making me play with him - we drew some great art with sidewalk chalk, kicked leaves into the sewer, and raked up dirt with some sticks - while Stephanie took pictures.  Somehow that sly Stephanie turned things around so SHE was taking MY time not the other way around.  Needless to say I was so dispirited by my failed "taking" event that I rushed home to cry for awhile.

Around 6pm Jonathan called me and told me that he and Matt were ready to be picked up downtown.  Since I knew they had spent the day drinking adult beverages at an exhausting concert I decided to bring them some bottled water and some tacos from Taco Cabana.  I grabbed the tacos and headed downtown in the LizMobile only to find that my timing calculations were completely off because I had forgotten that SXSW crowds combined with St. Patrick's Day crowds = total traffic mayhem/gridlock.  It took at least an hour to get downtown and another 30 minutes, after picking up Matt & Jonathan, to get out of traffic. (and can I just say that I know were are all supposed to LOVE bicyclists because they are eco-friendly but I freaking hate their slow-moving-in-traffic-bad-attitude-cut-in-front-of-cars-attitudes)

By the time we were on MoPac headed north I was in a pretty foul and bitchy mood which I did not keep to myself.  My husband was just thrilled with my continuous remarks about the traffic and how much of my time it took to go pick him up.  Later I felt pretty bad about complaining so much because I realized that Jonathan probably thought I was trying to make him feel guilty but really I was just mad that what I thought would be a 1 hour excursion took more than 2 hours on a Saturday night.  My fault entirely for not calculating correctly.  On the bright side I was able to "take" my husband's good mood and ruin it.  I didn't feel that good about that "taking" situation though.

So the long and the short of it is that sometimes "taking" doesn't go according to plan.  I learned that sometimes when you try to take from a friend you get so caught up in fun with a happy little kid (Cash) that you happily give your time instead of taking someone else's.  I also found that sometimes the best of intentions for giving lead to a bad kind of taking (ruining someone else's mood).  But with all of that said I am still committed to taking as much as I can from the world this year.  

Ruining Meals For Everyone in My Path. You Are Welcome World.

Wow. It's so hard to know where to start with today's Year of Taking Post.  Stephanie who is clearly mentally ill  very creative developed the "art work" you see in this post.  It's pretty disturbing so the least I can do is explain to my 5 readers who are probably all calling the police right about now.  Put the phone down and back away from the 9-1-1 call....the picture will make a strange sort of sense in a minute.

Today, my friend Danielle, the victim willing participant in a previous Year of Taking escapade, came over to my house for lunch.  I knew she was coming over and I admit I didn't do a lot of advance planning. If I were Martta, I would have made homemade bread and maybe a turkey for a lunch guest. But, sadly, I am not Martta, I am Empress Liz and I was busy with my Empress-like life (I went to Target this morning and I think we all know how distracting that can be) so I forgot to go to the store and buy any special food for lunch.  Or really any food at all.

To be fair, I did email Danielle this morning and ask if she wanted to order pizza or if she wanted soup and sandwiches. She responded that she didn't care what we ate but that she didn't eat olives.  Somehow in my mind I thought "oh, OK no pizza so I can just make sandwiches, I know we have ample sandwich stuff in our refrigerator".  And then I forgot about food for the moment.  At about noon I took some bread, cheese, the two remaining slices of ham (oops), Claussen pickle halves (delicious!!), peanut butter, Nutella, grapes, and an assortment of canned soup and placed it in an appetizing array on the counter.  It was a magazine perfect setup believe me!

When Danielle arrived I asked what she would like for me to make from the wide array of choices. She chose a ham and cheese sandwich.  Great! I had 2 pieces of ham and American cheese so I figured that would work.  But then she said she liked mustard on her sandwich  - in my defense I don't eat a lot of mustard on sandwiches so maybe my eye for quantity is a little off.  I squeezed mustard onto the bread...but as I was doing so I wondered if maybe it was too much mustard. 

It looked OK and Danielle didn't say "hey stop it! that's way too much mustard!" so I just added the ham and cheese to the  globs of mustard.  I asked if she wanted a delicious pickle and of course she said yes but that she wanted pickles on her sandwich.  Hmm...we didn't have any sliced pickles so I pulled one of the Claussen dill pickle halves out of the jar and asked her if I should cut it up before putting it on the sandwich. She said "no" so I put the pickle half right in the middle of the sandwich.  The sandwich looked kind of like a whale in between two pieces of bread.  

I didn't think about it at the time because I was busy sharing my political manifesto with Danielle (she was fascinated) but maybe Danielle didn't want a sandwich that was mostly pickle and mustard?  That thought didn't occur to me until I told Stephanie about how I made lunch today and she started asking probing questions like, "what did you make?"  And that is when I realized how much shame I should feel over taking Danielle's time today and taking away her opportunity for a delicious lunch.  When I told Stephanie about the sandwich she got that look on her face that she gets when she realizes I have done something really stupid and that she can ridicule me about for a long time. This was like Christmas-come-early for Stephanie

Stephanie asked me if I had taken a photo of the awful sandwich I made and I said that I didn't because at the point that it dawned on me that the sandwich sucked (when I saw mustard oozing out of the sides of two pieces of bread covering a giant pickle) that I didn't want to draw Danielle's attention to it.  I mean maybe she would think the sandwich was really good if I didn't say anything? 

So, Stephanie decided she would draw the sandwich the way she imagined it to be and that is the picture you see at the top of this post.  That doesn't explain the bunnies in teacups that she also put in the photo...that part of the photo has me a bit stumped.  But Stephanie lives in her own world so maybe she saw a bunny earlier and got distracted when creating the little photo of Danielle. I also don't know why there is a palm tree in the photo but I have been friends with Stephanie for a long time so I know not to even ask about that. I am sure it makes sense in her crazy mind.

And may I say, "I am truly sorry for the crappy sandwich I made you today Danielle."  I feel such shame but at the same time some pride that "taking" has become such a part of my life that I could take lunch from you without even trying! I am truly becoming a gifted taker.  I will make it up to you by making you a sandwich that is mostly ham and less pickle next time you come to my house...if you ever do.  

But if you think my day of taking ended there you are wrong.

I met Stephanie for dinner tonight (which is when it came to my attention that I am a bad hostess and bad sandwich maker) at Firebowl Cafe which makes a delicious pad thai.  Earlier in the day I told Jonathan to text me if he wanted me to bring him some dinner from Firebowl.  But then, when Stephanie started grilling me like some kind of crazy sandwich Nazi I got flustered  and I totally forgot about food for my husband and didn't check my phone until I was a block from home....and, of course, Jonathan had sent me a text asking me to bring him some pad thai.  I thought about blaming Stephanie but I realized that Jonathan would see through a self serving lie (you know, because he lives with me and knows my tricks) so I told him the truth and offered him a Sonic cheeseburger.   No go.

Ever since I got home Jonathan has been saying things like, "you know what would be really good now? Pad thai." And then he got a headache which seems to be turning into a migraine and I think he blames it on the lack of pad thai. So not only did I deprive my husband of the delicious Asian Fusion treat he craved but the lack of noodles has resulted in his developing a massive headache.  So you could say that today had been like a level 5 hurricane of Taking.

I sure will sleep well tonight. 

The end.

The Year of Taking: Stephen O'Flynn Edition

The Year of Taking (tm) went global last week! That is right I was taking things all over Spain and it felt great.

In the first hotel at which we stayed in Barcelona I took two bath sponges (didn't know if they were supposed to be used to clean our bodies or if the hotel wanted us to clean out the tub) and some soaps. Sadly the housekeeping person seemed to notice that I was filching soaps and quit bringing them to us so I was forced to take them off the housekeeping cart when she wasn't looking.   You snooze you lose.

During most of my stay in Barcelona I was walking around and seeing the sights so there wasn't much to take.  Then I got hit by a stomach bug so I wasn't even able to take food and eat it!  Score 1: Spain.

Last weekend Jonathan and I traveled 3 hours south of Barcelona by train to visit our friend Stephen O'Flynn whom I have known for 17 years and who traveled all the way from Spain to Mexico to attend our wedding nearly 7 years ago. I adore Flynnie and, in fact, adopted him as my brother several years ago. It wasn't legally binding so I am not obligated to send Christmas or birthday gifts...its more of an honorary thing which requires that he buy me beer at every opportunity.  Visiting Flynnie in Valencia was a boon for the Year of Taking!! So much taking going on!

First when we arrived at Flynnie's apartment we gave him some presents from the US.  Honestly I am glad he took the gifts off our hands because they were freaking heavy and I may have suffered some kind of permanent back damage from hauling those things around the world.  (He asked for cajun spices so I brought lots).  In return I took several beers, some wine, and water from his refrigerator. He said I could take all I wanted. So I did. Score!

Here is Flynnie opening our gift and finding a really spicy cajun seasoning.  We included a few more but this one was a big hit.  To support the Year of Taking, Flynnie specifically asked me to make sure to "take" the spices from someone else. But that never really panned out so I knew I had to give him a gift that I had "taken" as well.

So what else could I give him but the sponges from our bathroom at our hotel in Barcelona?  Flynnie seemed disproportionally excited about the sponges but what do you expect? He is Irish...they get excited about everything.

Visiting Flynnie was a lot of fun but really exhausting.  For one thing his perspective on distance is somewhat skewed.  When Flynnie says that a restaurant is "a couple of blocks away" what he is really saying is that "it is on the other side of the country; bring a sleeping bag and pack a snack because it will take an hour to walk there". Oh and he LOVES to walk.  He walks everywhere no matter how far his destination is and without regard to the fact that some distances are better served by grabbing a taxi.  And he feels that his guests should participate in his leisurely strolls forced marches.  I am starting to think that life in Spain has driven him a little mad.

One night to go eat dinner we took the most arduous of the forced marches which I have renamed "The March of Tears (tm)".  The March of Tears was an emotional and difficult night for all of us because after walking all the way to Portugal for dinner at a restaurant that Flynnie described as "the best ever" we found that the restaurant we had been promised had stopped serving dinner at midnight which is when we arrived.  After being rejected at multiple other eateries I finally resorted to my tried and true method for getting a table at a restaurant: I curled into a fetal position on the floor and whailed as loudly as possible until they agreed to sedate me with vodka and bring us all some food.  I don't know what the waiter said to Flynnie in Spanish but I am pretty sure he is banned from ever coming to that restaurant again.  Serves him right.

Here are Flynnie and Jonathan rapidly downing some booze after the March of Tears (tm) and my temper tantrum on the floor.  I think they needed drinks at that point:

In our other adventures in Valencia we reluctantly joined Stephen O'Flynn for an event he described as 

"At 1pm we will head to the Plaza del Ayuntamiento early to get a good place to stand for the day's Mascletà. Fireworks use explosions to make shinies to look at. Mascletàs use gunpowder to make as much noise as possible without causing hearing damage. Conservatively, around 200 lbs of gunpowder will be exploded strategically in the centre of the city for the entertainment of citizens." - from Super Awesome Travels in Valencia travel agenda by S. O'Flynn

Needless to say his description of this local experiment in torture festival had me nervous about my future ability to hear normal sounds and voices.  I was especially worried about my career which revolves around my ability to listen to people tell me about their work histories.  

It turns out that Flynnie should never work in the travel business. Or event marketing business either.  What he described in our travel agenda is really part of an annual festival called Las Fallas.  Wikipedia describes it as follows:

The Falles (Valencian: [ˈfaʎes], sing. Falla; Spanish: Fallas) is a traditional celebration held in commemoration of Saint Joseph in Valencia, Spain. The term Falles refers to both the celebration and the monuments created during the celebration. A number of towns in the Valencian Community have similar celebrations inspired by the original in Valencia. The five days and nights of Falles are a continuous party. There are a multitude of processions: historical processions, religious processions, and comedic processions. Crowds in the restaurants spill out into the streets. Explosions can be heard all day long and sporadically through the night. The Mascletà, an explosive barrage of coordinated firecracker and fireworks displays, takes place in each neighbourhood at 2:00 pm every day of the festival; the main event is the municipal Mascletà in the Plaça de l'Ajuntament where the pyrotechnicians compete for the honor of providing the final Mascletà of the fiestas (on March 19). At 2:00 pm the clock chimes and the Fallera Mayor (dressed in her fallera finery) will call from the balcony of the City Hall, Senyor pirotècnic, pot començar la mascletà! ("Mr. Pyrotechnic, you may commence the Mascletà!"), and the Mascletà begins.

Mascletà is almost unique to the Valencian Community, hugely popular with the Valencian people and found in very few other places in the world. Smaller neighbourhoods often hold their own mascletà for saint's days, weddings and other celebrations.

The Mascletà was a really fun and lively event and yes there were explosions but they weren't that loud...I mean there were children there so how bad could it be? This is the "after" photo after they did all the pyrotechnics...lots of smoke.

During our visit to Valencia we had several lively brainstorming sessions (complete with powerpoint presentations and graphs) about what I could take from Spain for The Year of Taking?  One great idea was to take the Holy Grail which supposedly resides in a church near Flynnie's apartment.  You can go into the church and actually see the Grail but we were there after one of our late night forced marches so the church was closed and I didn't bring my lock picks or rappelling gear with me so I was unprepared to break in and take a major religious artifact.  Also in the back of my mind I realized that I was unclear on the penalties for a B&E in Spain...probably pretty strict now that I think about it.

That left me in a bit of a quandary.  I mean to have the opportunity to take the actual Holy Grail and not be able to attempt it (because I am sure it wasn't well guarded or anything) was disappointing to say the least.  But then I realized that Flynnie had something almost as valuable in his possession: A Fat Boy Beanbag Chair.  If you have ever been sucked (literally) into one of these evilly comfortable things you know that it is one of the most comfortable and peaceful places to rest.

Picture doesn't really do it justice...

Here is an action shot of me enjoying the bean bag:

At last I found the thing I wanted most to take with me...the bean bag.  But I knew that Flynnie wasn't going to give it up easily as it is his most prized piece of furniture.  So I thought I could be sneaky by putting it in my bag...

Wait I know I can get it to fit...

OK it clearly won't fit in my backpack.  Need plan B.  Will drag it out the front door and go buy a suitcase to take it back to the US. Excellent plan.

What could possibly go wrong with this plan? Why is the beanbag suddenly so heavy? I thought Flynnie was in his bedroom and couldn't see what I was doing....

Oh my goodness...has he no shame??? Why are you making this so hard for me Stephen?? C'mon.

This was the most pathetic sight I had ever seen.  I mean it was one thing when Dick Douglas wrested control of the stag's head that I tried to steal from his house but as you can see here Flynnie is crying and begging me not to take the beanbag. He calls it his "safe place" and he said that if I took it that he would have to go back on his medication again. Eventually the whole situation got so emotional and uncomfortable that I dropped the beanbag and left Stephen curled up on top of it with a bottle of gin while I went out to get some air and clear my head.  Hands down that was the most awkward Year of Taking (tm) moment so far this year. I had no idea that Flynnie was so disturbed and that he had such an attachment to the bean bag chair.  Honestly, I didn't need to know that his emotional problems had devolved this far but I am hoping that he can get the help he needs through Spain's socialized medical program.

Flynnie - thanks for playing along with the Year of Taking! You were the host with the most and we will come back and visit you/take from you any time we can! That is, if I am not banned from your apartment and Spain in general by now.