Day 12 - Soul Surfer

First I would like to take a moment to say Thank God it's Friday, and not in a chain-restaurant kind of way.  We celebrated the evening by driving the 2004 Chevy Venture Status Wagon to a local dealership because I liked a 2010 Sienna that had leather and DVD and a sunroof, only to find that said dealership was closed and said van has disappeared.  Instead of grieving the loss of my Swagga Wagon, I took it as a sign that I should drive Old Faithful for another year since she is fully paid for, and instead pour the Swagga money into finishing my basement.


We went to Qdoba to eat, it's a chain restaurant, and because some friends of ours own it and we want them to go out and buy a new Swagga Wagon on burrito money.

Here I am, eating my burrito with my man hands and awkward facial hair.

After quelling my Minivan pain by stuffing queso and a burrito in my craw, we came home and I made a deal with Youngest Daughter that if she rubbed my shoulders and brushed my hair for 30 minutes I would pay for on-demand Soul Surfer.  Nothing is free, kids.  I'm thinking, "Ha!  Brush my hair, SUCKA!" and then I start watching the movie and crying.  Damn you, Soul Surfer, and your inextinguishable optimism and bravery!  And suddenly,  I seem like a big fat loser sitting on my couch and taking advantage of my third grader.


I get up off of the couch, crying and insipired and motivated - I CAN do everything I want!  It's 11 p.m., and I'm going to make all kinds of china mosaics tonight, and write the first chapter of my novel, and start hooking the rug I just drew the pattern for, and I can do it because I have BOTH arms and if Bethanny can do it, so can I!  I walk downstairs and turn on the light in my studio, and then I think, "I'm old and tired.  My back sort of hurts and I'm in the middle of reading a good book.  Perhaps I should let the Soul Surfer be the accomplished one, and I shall be The Appreciator.  The Sofa Surfer.    The Soda Sipper.  The Slothy Stalker.  Wow.  It really drained me to think of those names.  I think my work here is done.


Here is the parade of the people who have popped into the studio while I am trying to work:

Wednesday.

Thursday.

 Friday.

But it's okay.  I'd probably get kind of lonely down here.