My Latest Predicament

After a really stressful morning yesterday, I had a good meeting with my client at noon. I think his confidence in me has been restored. Now, if I can just keep it up.

I decided to do some creative (and therefore, therapeutic things) in the nice, warm sunshine in the afternoon. I pruned some of the boxwoods. Then gathered up my supplies to make a moss covered wreath for my front door and headed outside to the patio table. I couldn't find my hot glue gun so decided to use the bottle of Gorilla Glue I've had for two years. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Besides, I always burn my fingers with the hot glue gun.

I got started. Pulled out all the beautiful dried moss - flat green grassy sheet moss, spongy clumps, even some lichen. My little green faux pears. Sprigs of berries and branches of ferns. Cut open the top of the glue bottle. It was so thick and hard to squeeze out that I decided to take the top off and use a stick to spread it. So I'd spread it on the floral foam wreath base and press the moss onto it. I'm a very tactile person. Loved doing this. But of course, my fingers came into contact with the glue. Didn't seem like a big deal at the time. But strata of glue and moss formed on my fingers. I was so into the creative process, that I didn't notice the hardening of the layers.

When I completed my creation, I proudly hung it on the front door, so very pleased with the outcome. Then I put away all my supplies. Headed to the kitchen sink. Got the Dawn. It takes care of anything. Poor waterfowl covered in black gunk from oil spills. Greasy pans and dishes. But not instant mashed potatoes hardened in a dish drain. Or Gorilla Glue. I think Dawn's just good for oily stuff.

I got the Goo Gone. That shit never works on anything. Then I tried acetone (nail polish remover). Resorted to Google. Official GG website said acetone. I'd already tried that. Handy dandy DIY forums said acetone. Goo Gone. Baking soda. I swear, there are so many idiots out there who think baking soda is the panacea for every problem in the world. It's a placebo. Nothing more. Except when used in chocolate chip cookies or combined with vinegar to make lame science fair fake volcanoes.

It does not remove cat urine odor from leather chairs. Or whiten teeth. Or remove hard water stains. Or odors from the freezer. So why the hell do I have 12 boxes scattered all over my house?

So, I think the best GG answers were, 1) nothing will get it off, 2) it just has to wear off, 3) get a belt sander or a metal file and try not to get past the epidermal layer of your skin.

I tried peeling some off last night, but it definitely got removed some of my subcutaneous dermal layers, too. And that'll burn like hell if I try any caustic chemicals today.

Biggest problems now: Figuring out what to do about the Sunset Symphony tonight - JoJo suggested I dress like I'm going to the Kentucky Derby and wear kid gloves and a big hat. What a smart ass. I'd rather just wear a name tag that says, "Hi, my name is Carol. I don't have gangrene or frostbite on my fingers, I'm just stupid. And that's Gorilla glue embedded with moss." Hey, there's an idea. I can tell them I'm a sculptor and I'm experimenting with a new medium I created. That's my best idea so far. Except it's a big fat lie and I'm a terrible liar, and with my luck, I'd meet a real sculptor. I'd just have to say my intellectual property lawyer was still working on the patent and told me not to talk about it. Oh, wait, the VIP tix are from the biggest white-shoe law firm in Tennessee, so they'd probably want to know the name of my IP attorney, and I'd be exposed as the fraud that I am. Maybe I could make up a Swedish name for my ficticious attorney who lives in Sweden and tell them she's an expert and I need her expertise in international IP law. I need to come up with a good Swedish name I can pronounce and remember. How about Helga Testorf? That was the name of Andrew Wyeth's muse/mistress. She could be her great-grandaughter or something.

Nope, I'll just come clean (pun intended) and tell my stupid story. It'll be like the time Kiddo was two years old and threw a bathtub toy at me and gave me a black eye two days before the gala celebrating the 25th anniversary of the nonprofit organization my then-husband worked for. So many jokes about how I must've gotten out of line. Not funny the 16th time.

Oh, well, maybe the gorilla glue will serve as an ice-breaker. I'm terrible at small talk anyway. I'm glad JoJo and her squeeze are gonna be there, too. But kinda dreading running into lots of people I know, every single one of whom will know my ex-husband. Three fourths of them won't know we're divorced because he doesn't make a point of telling anyone and still wears his wedding ring. Bless his heart. So I'll be placed in the awkward situation of introducing my friend Rich (not to be confused with FF, although I'm sure everyone will think we're a couple, which is neither here nor there), and finding the least embarrassing way to explain that ex and I are exes. Or maybe i just won't say anything. Introduce Rich and let them think what they want. On the other hand, Memphis is a very small town when it comes to certain circles. Maybe, just to make it fun, I'll make a wager with Rich about how many people I'll see who know either me or ex. Right now, I'd say 12. Conservatively. Hopefully, none of those will be men I've gone out with. Let's say 2 for that.

Luckily, Rich is a good sport and he won't take any of this personally. And hopefully, FF will be a good sport, too. Especially if I call him Rich later. He definitely should not make anything of it because I call Kiddo my little sister's name when I'm around both of them, and sometimes even Elvis when he's on my mind (not that often). Kiddo's name is somewhat similar to Elvis - at least it starts and ends with the same letters and has a V in the middle. And FF's name starts with R, too.

Maybe I should get some huge floppy Kentucky Derbyesque hat and use it to conceal my face. And then there's always my burka. Wonder if Rich would mind? He's jewish, but he's the least predjudiced person in the world so wouldn't mind being seen out with a Muslim woman. He even dates women from Desoto County, god forbid. And he calls it Northern Mississippi. Obviously, he's not from here. New York.

On the bright side: I finally got my sweet wreath done. I won't be sitting home alone on a Saturday night hoping FF can squeeze in time for a Skype session. Or jonesin' to see him next weekend. Can't believe it's so soon - can't wait! I won't be worrying about Kiddo across the world in Tanzania. And I'll be enjoying not having to schlep a picnic basket and lawn chairs through the mud down to the river. Thanks to the VIP tix.

It's nice to have friends in high places. Really, though, it's just nice to have good friends...