back by popular demand...

For the love of satan, I'm posting another blog. And since it's been a while and my pals keep bitching at me, it's going to be long winded. So here goes...

First off, my brother and I have been working on a brick patio in the back of my house. Here's a collage of the work we've done so far:

Step 1: Dig out the area to be built.
Step 2: Pour in the gravel.
Step 3: Put in rebar.
Step 4: Build the forms and raise the rebar.
Step 5: Pour in the concrete.

The rest will be blogged later on when we get finished. As you can see, it may look like nothing, but it's back breaking work and worth every penny to get someone else to do it. And in this nasty heat, it's twice as bad. This weekend, the bricks will be added-hopefully...

Next thing: hand surgery. I had pain at the base of my thumb for about 6 years, but in the past 2 years, it was progressively getting worse. I decided to see an orthopedic specialist. Dr. Renfree was his name and he was HOT. Anyway, he couldn't feel anything but a small amount of swelling, so he ordered an MRI. That sucked, by the way. And since everyone else thought I was exaggerating, I believe he thought so, too. After he got the results, Dr. Renfree told me it may be a cyst and a small amount of arthritis he would like to scrape off. Eww. I went in a few weeks later to get the first surgery of my life. It didn't suck half as bad as the MRI, except they couldn't find a vein in my hand. After about 15 minutes of poking, I was beginning to think I was a vampire. But Donna and Judy (my nurses, go figure) finally got the needle in and off I went. Surgery was over in a flash, and my nice drugs wore off even quicker. Afterwards, I was informed that it was, in fact, not a cyst and arthritis, but a benign tumor, stuck in between 2 muscles and pushing up against a nerve. It was a first for the hot doctor, so he told my family and I. And here are my battle scars:

The day after my surgery was my last day at Suntrust, the home of many biblethumping, predjudiced, republican, ignorant southern Baptists who predominately reigned from north Knoxville. Glad to be done with that mess, I wore my Tori Amos t-shirt with a picture of a piglet sucking her nipple to work that day. Just to get a reaction. No one even noticed, which is probably a good thing, because they would have reported me to the local authorities for even suggesting beastiality. On to Clayton I go...

My 2 week training class at Clayton was taught by none other than my ex boyfriend's mom, Blossom. Which was cool, because we like each other. However, before I started, she asked Janet (who has worked at Clayton for a few years) why my name wasn't on her roster for the training class. Janet informed her it was under Elizabeth, not Paige. So, of course, it should have made Blossom think... At the end of my first week of training, she was talking about her grand daughter, who is one this year. Someone asked aloud "What's her name?" Blossom answered "Cyan Elizabeth". Hmmm...I wonder if Darin's wife knows that their child bears my first name? Strange, indeed. In any case, I went through my first weeks at Clayton with a big bandage on my hand, which came off shortly before Bonnaroo. And on to my next story...

I couldn't seem to coordinate an appointment with Dr. Hottie to remove my stitches. And I certainly wasn't going to Bonnaroo, with all the dirt, dust, sweat and whatever else would be floating around at the 700 acre farm in Manchester, TN. So I removed the stitches myself the night before the trek to concert central. Which was a good idea-after arriving at Bonnaroo (it started on Thursday, Renita and I left on Friday) and driving to our campsite, I saw that it was going to be a nasty weekend. We had to park at the VERY BACK. It was 90+ degrees and even lathered in 30 proof sun block, I got burnt. Half a mile to the port-a-potties, around 5 miles to the entrance of Centeroo. Check out our trek:
That was about 2 miles down from our campsite. The rest of the walk was on gravel paths, which aren't fun to walk on wearing Birkenstocks. By the time the first day was over, I had blisters on my feet. Thank goodness I had brought a pair of flip flops. The first band we saw was The Roots. FUCKING AWESOME. They did a version of Bob Dylan's "Masters of War" that brought tears to my eyes. We couldn't see much, but when you have awesome music-who cares? Here's the main stage: Afterwards, we walked around for a while, the smell of weed floating through the air at full speed, anticipating one of the main bands we were there for: TOOL. Holy shit, it was PHENOMENAL. Every note, every vocal, every drum beat PRECISE. Again, we couldn't see much (which is a shame, because I'm in love with Maynard James Keenan) but they had a laser show that rocked. This doesn't even begin to show the excellence of it, but you get the drift:

The next day was Ween (after we slept in the Brooers Tent for most of the day). Superior. There was even an older man next to us, no shirt on, sweating his balls off while dancing non stop and singing every lyric. It was a sight and I have a small video of it, tee hee hee. That night was the Police. It was actually a big let down, although Stewart Copeland was the ABSOLUTE SHIT. Sting fucked up and they left the stage 20 minutes early. Boo. The next day was Pete Yorn who was not only his hotass self, but performed better than his albums sound. He only played for an hour, but damn it was fantastic. After that, it was homeward bound. 2 days of no shower, peeing in stinky port-a-potties, eating exorbitantly overpriced nasty food, drinking gallons of water, sleeping in a hot tent and inhaling so much smoke from all the joints being enjoyed, we were almost high ourselves. Oh and the naked girls running around in full body paint. It was an experience, but I was glad to be home.

My hand has healed quite nicely, my job is interesting (I still hate working however) and I'm looking forward to a vacation next year, maybe going out west to visit Maynard Keenan's vinyard in Arizona:
Or somewhere just to get the hell out of Knoxville for a while. Who knows. But I promise I will try to post more, now that my life has settled down somewhat.