MalibuPJ.com

As if I needed a new addiction. Gardening. Yeah, I dabbled a bit around the yard last Spring and Summer. But I have recently become completely engrossed in covering every flower bed around here in color. It’s disgusting. I analyze placement, color coordination, future growth, blah blah fucking blah. I bought a trellis, man. A Fucking Trellis! And every day I am enthralled by how my new Confederate Jasmine is twisting and hugging it’s way through the damn thing. My new Gardenia bush is blossoming. I picked a flower for Bill and placed it in a stolen ivory white hotel creamer jar on his desk. Too Pretty. Maybe I’ll post pics one day.

I have determined that I am either experiencing my very first sinus infection, or I have a rare form of face cancer that is eating it’s way through the front of my skull. Either one is perfectly possible. Unfortunately, I have been too busy than to care if it’s either one. Let’s all pull for the sinus infection, shall we? And further, let’s hope that this shit clears up before my trip to New York City in June.

And I am moving and so soon to feeling normal. If the gods smile upon me, I will be moving the rest of my worldly possessions into the house this weekend - finally. Of course, the first phase will be to move the crap from storage into the garage and painstakingly sort sort and sorty sortish sort some more sorting then a sort of sort and also a few sorts. Should be painful and awesome. And a god damn good time. And a huge garage sale of sorts. And a splash of “why the fuck have I been dragging this shit around with me for decades?”.

To be in my own home office as a result of the move should spice this place up a bit. My fingers are crossed. Hope yours are, too.

Ok, where was I?

I really am looking forward to my office being done. I have great aspirations that I will write more often there. I digress.

Ok, so Days 3-5 were filled with chickpeas, raw veggies, yogurt and some yummy beans and brown rice that some fellow Dr Ian dieters have shared during lunch. The food was excellent. Cleansing. Fortifying. Nutritional. But holy god. I was dying for cheese. For meat. For greasy fat laden chunks of junk food. And so

When I pulled into the driveway after work on Day 6, I saw that Bill was home. When I got inside, I announced to him “I want Beto’s* and I want Beer”. After a bit of chit chat about our days, I repeated, “I want Beto’s and I want Beer”. And so my babe fetched me the menu #1, 2 tacos with refried beans, rice, lettuce and sour cream. And I cracked open a cold one from the fridge. I thought it was a tad ironic that the TV viewing while I was eating was Survivor, but eh. It is and will be only funny to me. Which is how I like it.

My Revelation of Day 6. Well, I started this twisted experiment with a pretty insurmountable goal. I caved on the ciggs. I even made it to Day 6 with cold beer in the fridge. I made it to Day 6 and learned that I can lose 10lbs in 6 days. I made it to Day 6 and caved and feel no guilt at all. That’s pretty damn cool.

Whatever. I have a great Jeep, which is new to me. The floors are prepped in my new home office and a spare bedroom, and should be finished tomorrow. I have a ton of door and trim painting in store for me this weekend. Work is (as always) enthralling, engrossing and frustratingly satisfying. Things are pretty fuckin good right now. Au Revoir, Dr Ian. We’ll meet again soon and I now know your game.

*Beto’s - A really kick ass 24 hour authentic greasy spoon Mexican food joint.

Day 2 was a tiny bit less horrible than day 1. I got up early and felt very lazy.

So I painted the hallway a lovely Behr color called Bucket of Cream or some shit. The paint didn’t spread as easily as it did in the other rooms, which made me want a cheeseburger. I smoked a cig instead and the hallways looks pretty damn good.

Then I cleaned as much of the garage as I could, which turned out to be a nice 5′ x 7′ spot. After that, I waddled out back and played Hitler by yanking up all of the wandering jew by the pool. Garden looks much neater. Might go to Home Depot and get some more plants to place there.

Oh and we made some brown rice in the new steamer. It tasted like a wood smoothie. Blech.

Day 1 was pretty horrible. I slept for most of it. Bill and I ended up going to Sam’s and found a nifty steamer/rice cooker. I also bought a poopload of cans of chickpeas, my new addiction.

Over the course of the day, I smoked a total of 3 cigarettes and I do not feel guilty.

Tomorrow is a pretty big day for me. I’ll explain.

Recently, Dr. Ian Smith was a guest on O&A. You might know him from VH-1’s Celebrity Fit Club. While I am half ass listening, he is describing his new book which lays out the diet used on the show. Now, I have never been much of a dieter. Glutton, yes. However, the way he was describing the diet, something clicked. A short book describing a few different phases and listing the foods allowed during each phase. And really, it’s a diet geared towards celebs. It must be very forgiving, right?

The main reason that my ears perked up is that I have been feeling grumpy, irritable, unhealthy, and just plain “ick” lately. And by definition, the word DIET does not mean ‘Hey, I wanna be a size 2″. The first dictionary entry is: The usual food and drink of a person or animal. Anyone who knows me well is aware that my own DIET for the last 20 years is lacking, to say the least. So Dr. Ian Smith’s program caught my attention. Now what?

Last weekend, I was visiting with my Dad and his fiance’ Darby. While Dad was cooking steaks and some lovely crab stuffed portobella mushrooms, Darby and I trekked up to the bookstore to see if they had the book. Yeppers, and we bought two. We flipped through it when we got back to Dad’s.

Darby: “Oh look, you can’t have alcohol during the first phase”
Me: “Eh, fuck that. I’ll do my own version of it then”

At some point after I got home from the weekend, I thought about it. The first phase of this DIET is called in the book: Detox. This phase lasts for 9 days and is very strict. Nothing is allowed except fruits, veggies, brown rice (2 cups cooked per day), oatmeal (1 cup cooked per day), blah blah. It’s the grocery list that someone would have if they are named Rainbow and have dirty bare feet. So I end up having this inner dialogue that if the phase is called Detox, it makes no sense at all to include alcohol. Ok. 9 days. No alcohol. Cool. Can do.

So I show Bill this grand plan of mine and he flips thru the book.

Bill: “Are you going to quit smoking during this?”
Me: “Eh, fuck that. Why should I quit?”

But the more I thought about that damn Detox word, the more it made sense to drop that particular vice for 9 days. I mean, if the 9 day period is supposed to be all cleansing and a good foundation on the DIET, where does nicotine fit in there? I gave it a few days and told Bill that I decided to add ciggs to the no-no list. I made sure to let him know that I am not quitting for good. I am quitting for 9 days. If I start back, then so be it. Ok. 9 days. No cigarettes. Cool. Can do.

I guess I am just an all or nothing kind of person. I have showed a few friends this book, and they eek out over the fact that the 9 days exclude meat. When they learn that I am adding alcohol and ciggs, they think I am crazy. But think on this. When you rehab an old building, sometimes you take it down to the foundation. By doing that, you can check the foundation for cracks, damage, and structural integrity. I like to think that this is the same. And for your benefit, I will probably have a lot of babbling to blog about.

So there you go. Tomorrow I start. I’m too stuborn and tenacious. These 9 days will work and will be hysterical.

I never really considered having a MySpace account (or LiveJournal, for that matter). I mean, I can barely take the time to update here, right?

Last week, Anthony and Norton were going back and forth about MySpace (ya had to hear the bit, too lengthy to describe here). So I signed up, tossed a few pics up there, and waddled around making and authorizing friends requests. Odd place, there. Interesting to see what info people put out on purpose, or by innocent ignorance.

This morning I surf around MySpace and put in a few names (old chums, ex’s, celebs, etc) just to see what’s out there. Who do I find? ‘Ole William Davis Sloan. Who, I guess, now goes by the name “Willy D” (??). Funny, he always told me that if he made it big, he would want to go by “Davis”. ah well. That was ages ago. Seems like he’s doing well by reading his MySapce content. His woman is very very pretty. Just wish he were more famous. The kid’s got the talent. Big Fish Small Pond.

Yeah I sent him a friend request. I’m all nostalgic like that.

Thank you to Jacks for color consultation, and thank you to Sean for the tweaks on the colors and fonts and such. Maybe I will have the energy to make other changes soon. sigh.

Need to work on the color, need to work on this horrible font, need to go back and categorize all of this nonsense, need to fix/update the links, need to transfer the pages from the old version to this one, and, and, and…..

A Molly’s work is never done.

Ok, MalibuPJ is back from the dead. Meaning: I actually think I might write here once in a while again.

Let’s all thank my beloved, Bill. My old Blog software, Moveable Type, became more of a pain than it was worth. Not only that, any service issues or upgrades had to be paid for. Bill worked hard to move me from the old blog software to the new one.

Lookit me now! Thanks to Mick, Sean and Jacki, I have found the wonderful world of Word Press! Thank you, Word Press! I shall sing your praises to anyone who will listen. You guys rock!

New job - Rocks. New man - Totally Rocks. Same cats - Still Rock. Beer - Always Will Rock.

Speaking of beer. The 7th Annual Beer Festival is coming up next month at City Walk. As far as my beer-addled brain can recall, I have not missed this event since it’s inception. Although last year, I didn’t get there until 9 pm due to a conference that I was helping with that weekend. The event itself has always been stellar. Neverending vendor booths of every type of beer: lagers, ales, stouts and ciders. Microbrews, National Brands and local fares. All of this for just one price. As I recall the first year started around noonish and went until about 9 pm. The price back then was between $20-25. I just found out that this year’s event is going to be held between 5 pm and 11 pm and will run $30.95 for advance tickets. I just think that Beer Fest is a shadow of it’s former self. Which is fitting, since it’s a Clear Channel event. Damn Communists.

So this weekend, I am gathering in every yard item that’s not tied down in preparation for Hurricane Wilma. I had a distant Aunt named Wilma. She died of lupus. I kinda liked her. This Wilma, I am not so fond of. Florida Hurricanes are supposed to hit on the weekends and Wilma is stalling. I think she wants to be fashionably late, but with a name like “Wilma”, that won’t matter. No one will respect her anyway.

hi a tus
n. pl. hi a tus es or hiatus

1. A gap or interruption in space, time, or continuity; a break: We are likely to be disconcerted by… hiatuses of thought (Edmund Wilson)