Yesterday, an off day and an odd day. I started it by waking up, a novel idea on most days for me. Then I raked leaves, and Tommie noted that I hadn't been around much. Yeah, I'm a workaholic I said, trying to muster an excuse. It was true that I had worked 8 days in a row without a day off. That at least constitutes one week of workaholism.

After the leaves, I headed for the flowers which I watered and began to pull the weeds away from. However, as I grabbed one large unwanted green apendage to the dirt and wood chips out marched, no flooded, ants ants and more ants.

Now many of you know how I feel about ants in Texas; my feelings initiated one unfortunate night at the edge of an apartment complex in Waco where I held back the hair of a puking roommate and first felt the sting of death. So I hate ants. Nothing has ever relieved my anger. So I marched inside and grabbed the pesticide (don't read this part Michelle) and mixed an appropriate amount with water and headed back outside. My plans were thwarted however, when I discovered that the already dilluted brew had to be hooked up to a hose to spray. Still furious with ants still spewing forth from the ground I yanked the lid off the container and just poured the poison all over those damn ants.

Granted, I probably killed my plants too, there's a chance. But I'd rather kill a plant or two with my anger than myself, and if I can release eight days of tension on some no good nothing poison packin' ants, I'm gonna.

After my yard had returned to dust what with the leaves gone (Lord knows it doesn't have grass) and mother earth easing back into her hole of oppression, I ate lunch with an old friend. Well, he's not old, he's only 20, but I have known him for two and a half years now. That's about par for an "old friend" in Austin. We ate at Pei Wei, a restaurant I mostly associate with an ex-boyfriend, but with very good, not very expensive food. I pulled a fortune that satisfied me out of a cookie and stored it in my purse to take home and put up on the fridge with all the other good fortunes on small pieces of white paper that give me hope.

I had dropped off my car at Groovy Automotive, my favorite car-fixing place in Austin and it wasn't finished yet, so my old friend dropped me off at a new friend's house and new friend and i went shopping! Determined to have a thoroughly productive but fun day, I had decided this oddly off day would be the one in which I would spend the money Grandma gave me for my ordination to buy a computer. She and Grandpa had bought me a computer when I graduated from College, and i've not had a new one since. Needless to say, it was time.

The mac store was a delight and although I received a disturbing phone call regarding my car and $750, I pushed forward determined to anny up on the quality of my life.

On the way home from the mall, I remembered that I had also wanted to accomplish a hair cut since I have to sing in a wedding next weekend. Plus I felt I needed a little lift if you know what I mean even after having successfully shopped. So new friend and I went to his barber shop on South Lamar, and I entered a world of wonder. His styist was booked so I sat waiting for the next available person. He pointed out one barber across the room, "My stylist can't stand her. She does full shaves and cuts, and literally I saw a bushy man she shaved for like an hour sitting there with probably 20 nicks on his face and blood pouring out." Gross, I replied. I don't want her. "You won't get her. She's a barber."

I got her.

Of course.

So I'm already nervous and she then she asks me if I've ever had "the razor." Sorry? Huh? "The razor cuts your hair and makes it fuller than just regular scissors do." Oh. Okay. My hair's naturally limp. So whatever. Let's do it. So we wash and shampoo and I appreciate the head massage and then we return to the chair to begin to chop.

"Could you stand up?"

Sorry?

"I'm a perfectionist and your hair is curling (huh? you are cutting my hair right?) and i think I'd do a better job if you stood.

Of course you would. So I stood for almost 10 minutes with stylists and customers walking around me. It was the weirdest hair cut ever. Eh-ver.

And it took for-eh-ver.

So fun with the new mac that cost more than what Grandma gave me (of course - don't they always), was put on hold a little longer as I retrieved my now $500 fixed car and took off during rush hour to sing with my woman's choir at a nursing home. Sans choir director because she had to move to the piano because we were sans pianist, we performed fairly well. Having resurrected Route 66 from the fall of last year, our audience loved it, singing along with all the old songs. Nothing lifts the spirit more than giving to people who could not be more grateful.

By the end of the show, as I sat outside in the dark quiet air, I felt calm, cut and collected, and I returned home finally to play with my new computer loading music and pictures to my hearts delight.

I sit now in front of my new mac laptop writing my first mac blog. My newest friend asked me today if I had even slept since I last talked to him, but I assured him that after hours of playing on the new computer last night I had indeed gone to bed and to work today. Granted I returned home at 5 and started playing again (even though I should be reading and exegeting Genesis 3 and 4). But that's to be expected. Even ambitious, driven women get distracted by toys, art and beauty.

It's to be expected.

You got that? Expected.

Odd.

And off.

That's me.