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I had dinner tonight with a man who he tells me I have known him for 11 years. Good grief, does time go by that quickly? I picked him out from a manuscript he submitted to this horrible writer’s group I was in that was controlled by a psychopathic woman who rejected his script outright. We formed our own writer’s group and left her petty myopia in the dust.

I was getting undressed later and thought about the conversation the other night about that woman who has a “portfolio” of men. I do too – except mine aren’t friends with benefits – they are men whom I admire and love – and no, not in a sisterly way – but as men who are talented, funny, and a pleasure to hang out with. Maybe it’s a product of being the younger sister of four older brothers but I’ve always had close male relationships in my life – men friends I wouldn’t trade in for a gaggle of girls as much as I love my girlfriends – that old saying that a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle is not part of my credo. Men are the alpha to my omega and for that I am grateful for each and every one of the men in my portfolio.

Help! Everyone looks alike – even me!

Except there is an au currant theme here – young men (30s), striped shirts (untucked), hair products (gel and curls). Nice.

Who is the brightest guy in the world – Steve Jobs – who wouldn’t want to work for him – me. I admire the guy to the extreme but understand he is a dick to work with.

Meanwhile, I’m in a hotel that no longer has a radio – only an IPOD connection. Jobs changed a piece of the world forever.

You remember that commercial where the woman says “I’m cleaning my oven while I ____.” Well I left with the hopes that Tom would put up the valance that Steve’s guy put in wrong, Bud’s men would finish the windows that had already lost the finish Justin had put on a few months ago, Rene would return and finish painting the North side and the front porch that Steve’s guys were supposed to have done, and that Terry would have laid all the irrigation so that George could put in the plants on Monday and I could be DONE with the goings on at the LaLa and have a clear mind to concentrate on a myriad of other things.

Having just fallen asleep at 2AM – the phone rang in my hotel room startlingly early with Bud telling me that it ain’t going to happen today – again it’s the weather to blame. That damn weather. Too much moisture in the air for any painting to happen.

So whatyagonnado? I’ll return to the same mess I left with and therein is the rub. There isn’t a damn thing I can do about it.

Monday night was a sleepless night as the alarm went off in the middle of the night and as the service company sat on the phone with me, I walked through the dark house to check what door might have been opened. Then the system shorted out or something and wouldn’t reset so I got back in bed in a state of fright and remained that way throughout the evening.

At 5AM yesterday I got up and went to work since I had to leave for Chicago early afternoon. I was so tired that after I dropped Arlene off at the kennel, I fell asleep in Blue in the parking lot at the airport. Sound asleep. So all I wanted to do was get on my direct flight and get in bed early to start the conference the next day.

But no – flight cancelled – then alternate flight delayed – and then after falling asleep in countless uncomfortable chairs and finding myself in Dallas exhausted – I made my way to a massage chair and put in $5 and treated myself to a pretty rough massage that had passerbys staring at me like I was having an epileptic fit.

Right before arriving at O’Hare the pilot came on and apologized for the delays citing thunderstorms and tornadic weather – in the airport as we made our way to baggage claim we came upon a surreal and almost performance art scenario where the entire enormous lobby was dark with cots of people lying under covers and guards positioned every 20 feet.

Finally at 1:30AM, I was in a real bed in the Hyatt. I used to be such a good road warrior and these days, I’m weary just thinking about making my way back. So what’s a girl to do? Well if I was Holly Hunter in Broadcast News, I’d unplug the phone and cry. But I’m Rachel and I blog.

As much as I bemoaned K and his unwavering predilection for being Tarzan all the time – his work on this house always surpassed my expectations. It was just him that I couldn’t handle. Bud came by today and said that he is now charging $1200 a day for him and his crew and that no one blinks an eye. The reason? Because they know he will surpass their expectations.

Your house is such a personal thing – you want anyone who is working on it to care as much about it as you do – that’s all that is asked.

Bud says he has no stress in his life – he knows he does great work, there is a demand for it, people will pay for it, and so he is doing what he loves. How about that?

I’ve had conversations with numerous women who are post-40 and there seems to be some tectonic shift going on whereby how we view men and their role in our lives has changed so much. Is it our age? Is it men in a post-feminist world? Is it that the old conventions that never served the younger us, now serves us less?

Today M’s guys are painting my house – yes, that’s right I already paid one contractor to paint my house but guess what? they didn’t paint it two coats like they said they did and there are lots of patches.

M looks like a hero, right? Well Marty doesn’t remember us discussing bricking the driveway even though this is how the conversation went:

M – I think you need a solid driveway not strips.
Rachel – why? because they crack?
M – yes.
Rachel – well they are going to be bricked.
M – oh, well then it won’t matter.

Three weeks later he doesn’t remember that being part of the conversation or part of the bid for that matter.

Gio doesn’t remember that he was supposed to have painted one side of the house – the other guys were painting the other side of the house don’t remember – everyone got paid – I got screwed. I hate being screwed without a kiss – don’t you?

Okay so TIP NUMBER ONE – get it all down in writing – not just the big picture – the details – and get everyone to agree with what is on that contract/bid. This is annoying as hell, but you know what? You will save yourself headache in the end when none of this goes the way you thought it would at the onset.

As my neighbor and now carpenter doing my punchlist says, “In the I Dream of Jeannie world” – sadly we don’t even come close to the nose twitch and at the LaLa we like to do things twice and maybe three times – just because we haven’t spent enough already on this remodel.

If not now, then when? That is what we who went through Katrina all learned. Here is a podcast of Beth, owner of Swirl, telling her experience and how Katrina forced her to take her 5 year plan and make it happen overnight.

http://neworleanspodcasting.com/BethRibblett.shtml

The boys showed up this morning to put the LALA letters into the bricks. They look great! I had just come back from a long bike ride to the lake – yes I’m on my bike again (what a pleasure!) – and saw Marty bending over and positioning the letters. I went in and got a bottle of champagne and came outside with four glasses and we drank to the LaLa!

Oh Joy!

Late this evening Arlene and I sat on the porch and listened to the rumblings of a storm brewing. I feel so grateful for living here in New Orleans and in the LaLa and with all the love of my friends and family – how great is that?