Madness. It's all madness.

There is all kinds of random craziness today. For example, I'm getting ready to move and my landlady's friend came over to turn on my sprinklers because even though my ex-husband AND my boyfriend both spent quite a while trying to do it, neither of them knew about the top secret extra valve hidden behind a vent in the basement. No really, that's what the problem was. How anyone was supposed to know that, I do not know.

The worst part was this friend is like the coolest girl ever and I have pointedly ignored her random knocking on my door she has done over the months in an effort to introduce herself and make friends with me, because I didn't know who was knocking on my door, be it a magazine salesperson or a psycho killer. I figured either way I didn't want to talk to them, you know? (Don't you wish YOU had been my Census worker?)

All I knew is I don't open my door for people I am not expecting because I live alone with four kids. And now I'm bummed because she's like so dang cool I can't stand it. She has pink streaks in her hair, guys. How does she maintain that? Because I want colored streaks really badly but I'm imagining how they would look under my current Get-A-Haircut-Every-Six-Months & Dye-It-Myself-With-Pro-Stuff-From-The-Beauty-Supply-Place regimen. I'm thinking not good, is what I'm thinking.

Today is Saturday, and I woke up thinking it was Sunday, which was kind of a bonus because I realized I could get some sh$t done. That kind of went out the window as I spent some of the morning puttering and cleaning, and then another chunk waiting around, but I finally made it out the door by 1 pm with big plans to clean my horrifically filthy car, work, and go on a photo safari downtown for a project I am working on.

My car was so bad, it was like, no one would have offered me anything on a trade-in, even though it's a 2003 Corolla with auto everything, and my kids were refusing to sit in the backseat without bringing their own towel. It was like living with four little Monks. By the way, Monk? Best show ever. And I am thinking of giving my mom a season on DVD for a gift occasion, it's like funny AND clean. I know, who knew that was possible? I don't mind not clean, but in terms of watching with my mother, I prefer the only dirt to be the imaginary kind that Monk fears.

I'd like to talk about the irony of the fact that my car was pristine before my kids started riding around in it full time, but yet they are the ones who are objecting to the mayhem that THEY caused in the backseat. You know? It was just fine before they came along and spilled ice cream everywhere.

Anyway, it was a job way too big for me. It's a job I have done professionally ideally every season, wishfully every six months and actually about every year. Let me just say, I think I was at the car wash for five hours. Yes, it was busy, but dang, they spent a long time cleaning my car. It just took that long. Once I did this with the Suburban and honestly I think I was there for the entire day. Love my kids. Anyone want to take them for a spin? I think Sonic has root beer floats and tater tots. Those go great in a backseat.

In the meantime, I was at the carwash forever today. My iPhone died about halfway through this endeavor, but I ended up reading The Photoshop Darkroom: Creative Digital Post-Processing by Harold Davis cover-to-cover THREE TIMES. No really. Three times. Then, I  went back and perused different sections several times.

This doesn't mean I won't have to have it open, checking step by step as I try this stuff, but still, at least I was sort of productive. I learned a lot though I disagreed with some of his end-result photos and his estimation that they looked awesome. However, I'm thinking he could kick my ass in dodge-and-burn ball so I'll keep my specific opinions to myself. Plus I learned a lot that I can apply to what *I* want to do with photos and I'm pretty sure that was the point of the whole book.

I also took a nap in the sun on the grass out front. I probably looked like a hobo. Or, a hobo with a turquoise bag and awesome jeans. However, these awesome jeans, my very favorite jeans, pictured in this flickr photo?

They have a rip in them. See?

I should never ever wear these.

I am justifying my wearing of these jeans by the fact that my office is in West Valley, Utah, and the best thing about being in WVC is that no one judges you. At least not for having holes in your jeans. That and it was Saturday.

I'm just sharing how Together I am with my life and appearance and my clothes. I should start a blog about How To Be Together At All Times. I could preach at you and everything. I'll use this photo as the basis for my Button!

So that took all damn day, I had to skip the photo safari, I couldn't find an open coffee shop on the way to the office, I really, really, really need caffeine, and I've been here at work ever since. However, it's 11 pm now and I guess I am just not that dedicated of a goodmama because after hours of work, I'm calling it a night. It is Saturday night. I'm going to go see my boyfriend. He's shooting a wedding but I bet by the time I get my stuff packed up and home and Put Together (because I am a pro at that after all, see the jeans?) he'll be finished and I can see him, and you know, that's really pretty good.

Plus, you know, we're going to Pride tomorrow. I bet my politically conservative lesbian sister is cringing. Just think how fun my Flickr is going to be in the coming days. I got no emails complaining about the flower overload but I know you guys are just too polite to say it, and really you want to see people dressed up with sex toys and condoms stapled to their costumes right?

See, there's always something awesome in the Wyckie-sphere. It's all about perception. Just the other day while I was receiving a traffic ticket I was texting a friend telling them how lucky I felt in my life. And I meant it! Really!

P.S. Really you should check out the Getting Sh$t Done link. It's great. F'reals.