Southern Fried Chicken In Vegas: Creative Minds Are Rarely Tidy.

"If you have nothing at all to create, then perhaps you create yourself." ~ Carl Jung

I have had this unfailing urge to be creative lately. Not necessarily with my writing...obviously, since I haven't blogged in 2 weeks. I've been keeping myself really busy. My life and my mind have seemed a whirlwind of activities lately and getting myself to sit and concentrate on ANYTHING, let alone a creative project, seems like it would be next to impossible. I lack the focus I once had with such things. No...I'm not on drugs. Maybe I have had a late onset of ADHD. (joking. sort of.)

My camera is dead (literally). I am taking this as a sign that I need to go ahead and invest in a totally bitchin' camera that has many cool functions. I've spent a lot of time researching possible options (not). I will though. Unless various friends and family members want to pitch in and get me a really snazzy one for my birthday? You have 4 months to save up. Get on it. If that is not your thing, then I will be completely self-absorbed and post a list of other acceptable gifts. Actually, I probably won't. I usually don't celebrate my birthday with a party (although Mike brought it up and I'm considering it) and I certainly don't expect presents.
Back on subject. My camera is dead, so said whirlwind from above has not been photographically documented. Sadness.

Cliff's Notes Version of the past 2 weeks:
St. Patrick's Day was a blast at best, a dramatic unpleasant experience at worst. My cupcakes were amazing. Even the burnt ones. Saw some of my favorite guys, went to a party, saw lots of friends old and new, got tipsy, got chatty, and Mike and I ended up in a fight. I didn't like it. At all. It is significant enough to mention, but not significant enough to detail.
Last weekend was the Mardi Gras birthday party. Friday night I made red beans and rice and bedazzled some pasties. Saturday morning/afternoon Mike, my mom, Mini-Me, and I went to a Renaissance Faire in Boulder City. It was good fun. We've decided to go to the large one in Las Vegas this October and dress up. Mom is making me an outfit. Yay! Mike and I almost got married (yeah, you heard me right). It would have been completely romantic, but not at all legal. That night I went to the birthday party and Mike stayed at the house and watched Mini-Me. I drank some, almost nobody saw my perfectly pretty pastied nipples, got some beads (not by "earning" them, except for one set), and went home to my man at a fairly decent time. Am I getting boring? No. I'll prove it...but not by showing my boobs (unless I take a Burlesque class...which sounds fun!).
Mike and I have been spending amazingly domestic Sundays together with breakfast/brunch, newspapers, PJs until afternoon, and glorious day sex...with the occasional Farmer's Market and gym visit. Like I said...amazing. Until I have to take him home. Which, I keep slipping up lately and calling my house his home (and being ok with it). More on that later.
Mini-Me tried out for a school play on Monday. Mike and I thought for sure she would get a part. Mini-Me IS drama. Lessons on rejection were learned that day.

So, Mike is off to Utah for several days and I am here. Tomorrow night I'm attending First Friday by myself, to wander, take pictures, and bask in my aloneness. Saturday will be spent at Zumba, the pool, and with beer/BBQ/Jacuzzi time with some friends. Relaxation is the key word, because I've got a busy Spring ahead.
It's filled with a bellydancing class, charity walks, a course on summer wines at a local cheese and wine shop, Stripper 101 (seriously), outdoor concerts/festivals, out-of-town visitors, and