What's going ahn? (that's a song title there...did you know that?)

What I’m reading: Well, I still have Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell on my coffee table but I haven’t been reading it, I don’t know why as when I do read it, I really enjoy it, but it’s a big book and I am not inclined to carry it around with me, so it just sits.

Also, I just started reading Vile Bodies by Evelyn Waugh. I read The Loved One last year because I have an odd obsession with funereal trappings and I rather enjoyed it. Then I saw a movie called Bright Young Things (David Tennant is in that one) and I thought I would like to read Vile Bodies, on which the movie is based. My dad noticed the book sitting on the table and commented on how much he disliked the author. I don’t know how I feel about it yet but it’s a pretty short book, so I think I will finish it and reserve judgment until then.

Today I received a box of books that are intended to be Christmas gifts, but I couldn’t resist buying something for myself and I had been awaiting the publication of The Omnivore’s Dilemma in paperback, so here it is. I read the first chapter while eating lunch and although I suspect that this is not the kind of book one should read while eating, it hasn’t hit that point yet and I liked what I read. Michael Pollan appears to be a very thoughtful writer and I find the subject of food interesting so I have high hopes for this one.

Next: Hmmm…well I just don’t know. I have some mystery novels by the man who wrote the Paddington Bear books, but I also have several borrowed books I need to get to, one loaned to me by my brother almost two years ago (Requiem by Graham Joyce) but for ten years now I have been intending to read a biography of Charles Darwin. I like Darwin and I am terribly interested in his life, but it’s another one of those big books. Same with the biography of the Mitford sisters that I have. And I took a break from Ulysses but I think I’d like to get back to it…decisions, decisions.

What I am watching: With no new Doctor Who’s until Christmas, I have been longing for a little British sci-fi action. I may have gotten my dirty little mitts on some episodes of Torchwood but I have been instructed to not watch them until certain friends are free to watch them with me…sigh. And with the advent of our new DVR, I have a backlog of Battlestar to watch, but I have noted my reticence to watch that show lately. So for the fun viewing, I have pretty much been watching House. Also on the recorded list are Vincent and Criminal Minds, which I cannot defend as a GOOD show but I like it anyway.

Next: My viewing habits have become decidedly anglophilian and I am eagerly awaiting new seasons of Doctor Who, Life on Mars, Hustle and Waking the Dead. At least I hope they all have new seasons coming out…I know the doctor and LOM will be back…I guess I’d better check on the rest before I get too excited.

What I’ve been cooking: Well, despite the gifting of the lovely Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World book, I haven’t tried any of the recipes yet, which makes me kind of sad. In fact, the last two things I cooked were decidedly unvegan, but tasty if you can justify eating it. I made excellent (if I do say so myself) carnitas the other night. They were perfectly spicy and lovely and I really shouldn’t eat pork but I do anyway. And there were homemade tortillas to go with the carnitas. And then last night there was chicken and dumplings. I do like the dumplings…someday I will try them in a vegetable broth and see how it goes.

Next: I’d really like to get to some of those cupcake recipes particularly the toasted coconut with coffee “buttercream” frosting. Doesn’t that sound awesome?

What I’ve been making: Well, the SnarkyDork’s birthday was like a month ago and I still haven’t finished her birthday present, I really need to get that done. Then it’s Christmas candy. Every year for the past…well, I don’t know how long, maybe 5 or 6 years, I have made candy for my friends and family. I make Guinness truffles and bourbon balls and some times caramel fleur de sal truffles. This year I am thinking about adding some coffee lollipops to the mix, but we’ll see how ambitious I am when it gets a little closer.

What I should be making: I’d love to someday make ALL of my Christmas gifts. And someday I will, but not this time.

“Movies?,” you ask: Ah there are a few I would love to see! I am a diehard fan of Aardman animation so I am intrigued by Flushed Away. I am trying to not have high hopes for it as it is not actually a Nick Park film, but I intend to show my love. There is also Casino Royale. I grew up watching James Bond films with my dad and although I know it’s so uncool, I confess that my favorite Bond is Roger Moore. I know his films were silly and camp, but I have fond memories of them and, quite frankly, I just don’t love Sean Connery. But, I think the character of Bond is kind of a cold, hard creep, so I am curious to see how Daniel Craig does it. Personally, his face is not attractive to me but um…well, he can take his shirt off anytime he likes. Also, I saw him in Layer Cake and thought he was excellent, so…yeah, I am hoping to like that movies. Finally, I want to see A Good Year. Look, it’s Russell Crowe and wine and Albert Finney, what more do you want? Oh, I also would like to see Marie Antoinette. The costumes alone would make it worth it.

What movies I have sitting, waiting for me to watch at home: V for Vendetta. I should really watch that.

Who I am crushing on: It’s none of your business! You don’t know him anyway!

I never did get a birthday cake...

I love vacations but I hate that “I need a vacation to recover from my vacation” feeling. Yeesh, I am tired, but I did get up at 5:45 this morning…and then again at 6:15…and then again at 6:30 before I could finally get in the shower and set off to return the ‘rents to the airport. Heh. Turns out that they were SUPPOSED to have left yesterday but my dad read the tickets wrong or something. Luckily they are seasoned travelers and didn’t freak, they just called their travel agent, paid a little extra and hopped on the same flight one day later. At least I got an extra day with them!

I know that most people love their parents. I love mine but I also like them. We have a really good time when we are together and this was no exception. We did a little exploring, visited some new places and just hung out. My mom has a black belt in shopping so we spent some time exploring little boutiques and the Rose Bowl flea market with her. And my dad loves pretty cars so we took a trip to the Petersen’s Automotive Museum, which I highly recommend to anyone visiting L.A. Pretty, shiny cars! The current exhibit is of some Big Daddy Roth stuff, which was really fun to see. In fact, I think I may have to go back.

There was some birthday revelry in the form of not one but two dinners at my two favorite restaurants and there were presents, oh how there were presents! What does it say about a person when they receive a bottle of wine, a bottle of whisky, a bottle of champagne, a pair of slippers and a vintage Doctor Who play set? I think it sends some mixed messages but you can explain that to me when you find me sitting on the floor, wearing my slippers, drunk on blueberry wine, playing with the Tardis…because you will find me like that…eventually. There were many other lovely gifts and a dozen oysters and a creme bruleé and good times were had by all.

Sigh. I will miss my parents but I will be happy to move off the futon and back to the bed. And I will get to see them again soon, so that’s nice. All in all it was an excellent week of visiting and birthdaying and for the record, I have no idea how old I am. Every time someone asks, and really, you aren’t supposed to ask that question, I have to do the math. Suffice to say, I am older but no wiser.

YAY!

YAY for visiting parents! I usually only get to see them once a year but today they arrived in town and we have 5 days to spend together.
YAY for days off from work. It's nice to not be there!
YAY for birthdays. I like presents. (And I never expected a vintage Doctor Who playset OR gourmet marshmallows AND it's not even my birthday yet!)
YAY for days off...did I say that already?

Ring a ding ding.

When I agreed to do the whole comic-con thing, it was a big deal to me. Not because I would have to talk to people, because, despite my lack of conversational skills, I can SELL things. I sold shoes and adult pleasure toys, for heaven’s sake, I can sell! It was also not because, as someone suggested, I was selling off a part of myself by selling my “art”. HA! Please! I draw silly little pictures, I think I can afford to sell off those parts of myself…and a lot of other parts for that matter. It was really more an issue of my stuff being on display for people to comment on. I don’t mind if you insult my skills, I just don’t really need anyone insulting them to my face. It’s fine if you don’t like what I make, but I don’t want to have to hear about it. Who does? I have plenty of self-confidence but not enough to handle that. And so I was scared that I would be openly mocked. Which I was not. In fact, people were incredibly kind and supportive to me. Which was great. But, like I said, it was all quite a big deal to me. So I made a bargain with myself. I told myself that if I sold some stuff at comic-con, I could buy myself a piece of jewelry that I have had my eye on for quite some time. It arrived today and I am enchanted

If I were the more philosophical and romantic sort, I would say that it serves as a reminder for me to “just bee” and not worry about what anyone else thinks. But I am not and it’s really just a pretty ring with a lovely bee on it.

I found it here. It’s beautifully made, heavy but with delicate cutwork. And you can choose the color of the glass behind the image. Each piece is made to order so it takes a while but it’s well worth the wait.

And clearly my hands need some moisturizing, but don't mock me for that either. It's really dry here!

Big black nemesis parthenogenesis.

I came to a realization the other day that made me feel terrible. Oddly, it pleased one of my friends to no end. She was actually gleeful. Me, not so much. I realized that…this is embarrassing…I have a nemesis. Doesn’t that sound terrible? A nemesis. How awful a person must one be to have “a formidable and usually victorious rival or opponent”? Technically not so awful.

Actually, years ago I CHOSE a nemesis. And that nemesis remains a nemesis but pretty much just for comedic purposes. It happened one day at work, we all decided that we needed an evil nemesis and I chose a co-worker. He actually chose Yum-Yum Doughnuts, so you can tell we weren’t being all that serious. But my new nemesis…this person just makes me feel like crap. As if nothing I will ever do will be good enough, or cool enough. And I realize that it is totally ME putting that out there. Well, they certainly sent some nefarious vibes my way, but there was no actual threatening or mockery. Just the feeling that no matter what I do, I will always be inferior to this person and thus I must not like them.

I have had a real nemesis once before, in college. That time it was a guy who was basically me as a dude. We met because I was wearing a Hoodoo Gurus t-shirt (with boxer shorts…in public…yet another shame of the 80’s) and he saw me across campus and yelled “Hey, Hoodoo Gurus! Come here!” Turned out that we had pretty much everything in common, and that made us…enemies. In him I could see every thing that was annoying about myself, and I am guessing he saw the same in me. I KNEW when he would procrastinate on a project, or not show up for a meeting, because they were the same things that I would do and man did that annoy me! But through it all, I thought we were friends who just irritated each other. Little did I know that our irritation was evident for all to see. It became interesting when we were both invited to the same party. One of the hosts called me the day before to “warn” me that he would be there. She wanted me to know in case I would have issues. I didn’t. As far as I was concerned, he was a friend. Turns out, she did the same to him. So our rivalry or nemesisery, or whatever you would call it was apparently…apparent.

I don’t like feeling this way about people but I suppose in the long run, or at least, I HOPE that in the long run, it makes me a better person. If I can recognize the bad parts of me in others, maybe I can make them better. And vice versa. Or what have you.

(And I’m am not suggesting (by the title) that my nemesis is big or black…that’s just the lyrics of a Shriekback song…and the color and size of my horrible soul for having a nemesis at all.)

Day of the Wed

Oops. I totally meant to post this picture on the first but flaked. No big surprise there.

This is actually the topper from our wedding cake. But it is also a day of the dead figurine. We saw it just before we got married while shopping on Olvera Street and thought it was fitting. We both have a fondness for horror, and in particular, I have a fondness for skulls and although we don’t have any sort of Mexican background, we felt that it represented our new lives in Los Angeles and the culture of our new city. It was, to us, a perfect cake topper.

It wasn’t until years later that I found out that my mother was none too pleased with it. To her credit, she never said a word and it only came up in passing much, much later.

We still love our little skeletons and they sit in a place of honor in our living room.

Ok, I am going to make a little confession here that is certain to stir up something distinctly shitlike with a few people. I am a bad, bad geek but I am finding that I just have no desire to watch Battlestar Galactica. I know! I know! (and I can already hear Jodi telling me that’s ok but that I am still a dork. Dork.) Ever since we got the DVR there have been episodes just sitting on there and piling up. But James doesn’t really watch it…although he is starting to… and so I watch alone. And the show can be so depressing at midnight that I have been avoiding it. It’s a good show. Far better than most in fact, but it wears me out. Sigh. I won’t give up yet but…yeah. They really need to give me something pretty to look at…OK, well, my kind of pretty, not Jodi’s kind. Jodi’s kind is good…but I need me something 50ish and British. Get on that right away SciFi network and I will return to my former geeky self.

Ten other things.

In contrast to the “ten things that have annoyed me in the last 24 hours…no, wait…ELEVEN” here are nice things that have happened to me too. See, it’s not always raining here!

1. My two younger nephews sent me a beautiful bouquet of fall flowers.
2. While speaking to said nephews on phone I got to discuss lollipops with the youngest and “Fart-o-meter” costumes with the elder. Don’t ask. I don’t know. But it was still entertaining.
3. I was gifted with a cookbook that I very much wanted while being treated to a posh dinner by friends. How nice is that?
4. That cookbook has very many lovely pictures of vegan cupcakes. That can’t be bad.
5. I received an adorable photo of Josh’s adorable daughter in the mail. I like adorable.
6. My parents are coming to visit for my birthday. I like my parents.
7. There is a very good possibility that my “art” (and I do use that term loosely) will grace the library card of the town in which I spent my formative years. I find this quite exciting.
8. Jodi said that I was “far more Strawberry Shortcake than goth”. OK, maybe that wasn’t meant to be nice and I would say that I am far more “My Pretty Pony” than “Strawberry Shortcake” but it still made me laugh.
9. The winter comforter on the bed makes sleeping even better. Now I really want to take a nap.
10. Cooler weather has convinced the cat that she is now a lap cat. Awwww.

Hey, don’t get used to this…I can’t be cheerful all the time, it’s far too taxing.

Not a fan.

Wanna upset some people? Tell them you hate Halloween. Wanna upset them more? Have some sort of vaguely “goth” leanings, like a fondness for skulls, or a primarily black wardrobe. Wanna really, really piss them off? Tell them Valentine’s Day is your favorite holiday. Never fails.

Yeah, that’s me. Not a fan of Halloween despite a deep and abiding love for Buffy the Vampire Slayer, books about monsters, a dresser full of black t-shirts and one really cool pair of skull and cross bones earrings. And yes, I really do like Valentine’s Day, although to say it is my favorite holiday may be a bit of a stretch. I think Thanksgiving actually wins that prize. And before you get on your “Hallmark Holiday” high horse, let me point out that I do make my own Valentines and um…have you been to Hallmark lately? It’s kind of full of Halloween crap. As is the grocery store. And the drug store. And every other store in town. You don’t want to get into the commercialization conversation on this one.

Halloween has never been my thing. I always liked to dress up, but was never terribly fond of the scary stuff. And the candy, well, how many Necco wafers do you have to eat before you decide that most Halloween candy is yucky. I’m going to say “One”. Yeesh. And the spooky stuff? No way. I hate haunted houses, haunted boats, haunted hayrides and haunted…things. I don’t enjoy being startled and I certainly have no desire to pay for it.

Like I said, this is nothing new with me. I have hated rubber masks since I was a wee lass. And I have always preferred high-end candy. But I participated. Dressed up, walked in the Halloween parade, went trick-or-treating, went to parties and studiously avoided the haunted houses unless I could work in them.

If you come to my apartment, I will give you candy. If you make a nice costume, I will be appropriately awed. But Halloween is really not my thing. Sorry. Call me around Thanksgiving and I’ll happily make you a turkey though. Or stop by in February and see my Valentines.

Two things I am usually not...

1. early
2. not scary

But this time...well...a little bit early and not at all scary. Go figure.


Wait...I mean to say I am usually scary...not NOT scary...but...oh damn. Add a third to that list...not clever.

Wait...

...never mind.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

Ten things...

...that have annoyed me in the past 24 hours:

1. Traffic…obviously
2. Rush Limbaugh
3. and Jim Caviezal and Patricia Heaton
4. Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip
5. The radio
6. More specifically, Beck and Lakshmi Singh on the radio but the radio in general as well
7. The fly in my kitchen
8. The last 2 minutes and 13 seconds of 30 Rock
9. My hair
10. That dude in the crappy blue Corolla who felt the need to pull out of the traffic, pass ten people on the right and then push back into traffic

You can contact me if you need more clarification on any of these. But you probably don’t.

WAIT! I forgot one!

11. R2D2! Damn he was annoying!

In search of...

I am not very big on the idea of “perfection”…obviously. In fact, it just took me three times to type that sentence because it kept coming our “I am not bog on the idea odf perfection…okbviously”. But I did bother to fix it, not for the sake of perfection but for the sake of readability. I honestly don’t believe in perfection of any type, but I still search for it. Some people search for it in nature, but nature is as imperfect as everything else. Some people search for it in themselves, seeking to improve their bodies, their minds, their souls. Me, I look for it in three things. Eyeliner, handbags and shoes. And so far…well, let’s just say we are getting closer but we aren’t there yet.

I need the perfect eyeliner. I have been looking for years, wasting money and time and hazarding serious eye infections along the way. I have tried pencils and liquids and gels and even an “eyeliner sealant” which is almost as scary as it sounds. I have blended with brushes and sponges and fingers. My eyes have been lined in blue, green, purple, gray, black, bronze, gold and brown. And pink…and burgundy. I like the gold best but I generally retreat to brown because it tends to last longer. I want something that will make my eyes glisten and dance. In a good way. Not a crazy way. I have tried high-end make-up and drugstore make-up and what may well have been a briquette of charcoal in pencil form. But none of them are perfect enough. In fact, I am not sure that any of them have even come close to perfection. I keep looking. I will keep looking until I am blinded by all the chemicals that have slid into my eyes from all these concoctions.

And the handbag? It needs to be the right size, more oblong than long, more east west than north south, if you know those handbag design terms. It needs to have a zipper, because although that may not be the most beautiful fastener for a hand bag it is, let’s face it, the smartest, things don’t slide out and sneaking hands don’t get in. It needs some pockets inside for cell phones and mp3 players and the like, but not so many pockets as to lose things in. And it needs to be a neutral enough color to go with everything but happy and bright enough for me to want to carry it. It should fit a book and a wallet and all the various things of day to day life (eye drops, compact, notebook, 3 pens, painkillers, tampons and a pair of socks if necessary) but never feel heavy and the straps should be long enough to go over my shoulder, possibly even across my chest if my hands are full, but not so long as to drag on the ground when carried in hand. This bag…it does not actually exist, but I keep the hope alive.

The shoes...don’t even get me started on the shoes.

I seek perfection. But only in the things I need everyday. Who needs a perfect body when they can’t carry around the stuff needed to maintain it? Who needs a perfect soul if the eyes that can’t be properly lined in a beautiful color that won’t wear out after an allergy attack and a few tears over a spilled coffee, are the window to that soul? Why seek perfection in myself if I can’t find a damn pair of shoes that I like?

Etsy Plug

Oooh, I got a package in the mail today! It contained my first purchase from etsy.com, a pair of fingerless gloves from TaranehsBazaar. They are very nicely made and cute to boot. Someone even told me that they were “fashionable”…go figure, I own something fashionable! Mine have blue and brown stripes and a pink peace sign. I love blue and brown together, and how in the world could a resist a pink peace sigh? Well obviously I couldn’t. My hope is that these fingerless gloves will keep my hands a little warmer this winter when it’s a balmy 70 degrees outside and a chilly 60 in my deep freeze of an office while still allowing me to type. We’ll see.

Now, truth be told, I can sort of knit and it is possible that this is something that I could make myself. But I haven’t yet and I only recently discovered that I knit backwards. Don’t ask. But TaranehsBazaar made them real nice, far better than I could, so why not go the easy way?

Etsy is a really nice idea and I have seen so many things there that I would like to buy. There is a great range of product and a great range of prices, so you may want to consider looking there when doing your holiday shopping. And when you do, maybe you should check out JustJenn’s shop too.

So that’s my plug for this week. I don’t get paid for this stuff, I do it out of LOVE!

Bye-bye, Weekend, I'll miss you!

I am sad that the weekend is gone, even though I didn’t really do much to take advantage of it. Well, there was some cleaning, a thing which must continue as the ‘rents are coming for a birthday visit in a few weeks and while our apartment is not exactly a disaster…it’s a clutter. Seems like every corner has collected stuff. Stacks of books, books of dvd's, piles of cds, piles of storage boxes purchased eight months ago to house the cds but as of yet unfilled because said cds should really be organized and one box should be for opera and one for jazz, but what to put in the other two? That kind of stuff. It’s getting there. And it WILL be tidy for the visit. But it’s the getting there that I am not enjoying.

Aside from that there was some baking. This year, for the ‘rents “special days” (i.e. birthdays, mother’s day, father’s day) I decided not to buy them presents but rather, to make them food, largely because it’s disposable (ok, technically, I should say it a “consumable” but it’s also disposable because if they don’t like it, they can just throw it away). For mother’s day and dad’s birthday (they tend to take place together) it was two kinds of scones and challah bread, for father’s day it was lemon cake, sliced and sealed in serving size packets, just ready for the freezer. So this weekend I made cookies for mom’s birthday. Whole wheat gingersnaps and almond scented sugar cookies, packaged in fours and wrapped for freezing. I hope she likes them, we thought that the ugly ones were pretty good (she only gets the “pretties”, even though ugly cookies still taste good, it’s all about the presentation).

Then there was dinner. James does not eat pasta. I know, I know, it’s crazy. Pasta is that go to dinner, the easy choice, the quick fix. Well, that dog don’t hunt in our house and pasta is a no-go. Well, I suppose I could make it and he could just have sauce, but that just seems cruel. So this weekend I did a little experiment. I have made spaghetti squash for myself before, but I checked with James and he agreed to try spaghetti squash and turkey meatballs. It was a hit. It gave me the pasta like feeling that I so miss without the griping about “if I wanted to eat wet bread, I would just eat wet bread”, both parties were happy and this will go into the recipe file. I thought the spaghetti squash would be too sweet but I tossed it with lots of black pepper and a little olive oil and it was just fine. And it’s an extra serving of veggies, so that’s a nice bonus.

Now I am off to try to design a logo based on the information “she needs a logo…something that evokes memories. And uses a star…and turquoise and orange.” Sigh.

Oh, and I hear that Torchwood is a smash in the U.K. I’ll have to see what I can do about that over here!

Random Ten and a kid with antlers.

For a while, I was trying to give the SnarkyDork ten questions every Monday. They were fairly random and for no reason other than because I could. I got out of the habit…well, actually, I ran out of questions. But this week they are back and more random than usual. But, as I normally do, I answered the questions that I posed to her because that’s just fair, and because what the heck else do I have to do?

Ten fairly random questions that you (I) may expand (expanded) on as you (I) see (saw) fit…

1. What is the last song you listened to?
   Last song was “Disco 2000” by Pulp. Current song is “Pencil Skirt” by Pulp.
   
   
2. What makes you swoon?
   Winking. I like being winked at.
   
   
3. What is your favorite cupcake? (heh, trick question! ALL CUPCAKES!! No seriously, because the next question is…
   Chocolate with vanilla frosting.
   
   
4. What’s your favorite sweet?
   You know, it used to be chocolate pudding but now it makes me sick. I’m gonna stick with cupcakes for now. And Jodi, it’s ok if you don’t CARE about cupcakes because I know you LIKE them once in a while. And that’s all that really matters.
   
5. What kind of writing instrument do you prefer to use?
   My favorite current pen is a Uniball Signo. I like to sketch with it. Since my sketching skills are…well…sketchy, I don’t like a pen that provides a smooth line, I like all the little skips that a ball point provides. And I have this great ball point pen that was tucked in a package from Taggd Apparel. I don’t know why it writes so smoothly, it’s just a cheap ballpoint, but it really feels good, nice and smooth. My mom does always say that the pens from hotels are the best, so maybe the freebies from catalog orders are good too!
   
6. What fascinates you, yet would surprise us that you are fascinated…by…it. That’s a really poorly formed sentence but I think you know what I mean.
   Um…science in general. Forensics in particular. But not to see, just to read about. I would be a theoretical forensic pathologist, one who just figures out how it happens without having to deal with decay and stuff. And also, in that vein (heh), the commerce of death fascinates me.
   
   
7. What did you NOT do in high school that you wish now you had?
   Since I hated marching band so much, I kind of wish I had been a cheerleader. But our cheerleaders were not the fluffy blonde type. Oh not. They were big…and scary.
   
   
8. What kind of candy will you give out on Halloween?
   NONE! No kids come to our apartment. But that said, every year I buy a bag of something that I like, just in case we do get some kinds and then if we don’t, I put it in a candy bowl on the coffee table and somehow, everyone else eats it and I never get any!
   
   
9. What gadget would you love to have but wouldn’t spend the money on?
   Ooh, I don’t know. I would like one of those laser level thingies so I can hang pictures straight. And I’ve been wanting a cordless drill for years and never buy one. And I wouldn’t mind a video iPod. Or another computer. Or a really, really small computer. Or something like a Blackberry, or a new fancy phone or maybe a big food processor, mine is kind of small, or a new stand mixer, mine is from the 1940’s….I could go on…
   
   
10. Do you like horror movies?
    You know, it’s funny, I used to really like them but now I am afraid of them. I worry about having nightmares from something gory. But that said, two of my favorite movies of the last few years have been “horror-esque”, Shaun of the Dead and 28 Days Later, so maybe I like being scared more than I think. It’s just stuff like Cabin Fever and anything with rotting zombies that gets me. I know, I know, Shaun of the Dead has zombies, but not the gruesome kind. And no way will I watch anything like House of Wax I remember watching the old one with Vincent Price when I was a kid and it still gives me nightmares.
    
    

And speaking of nightmares, I almost forgot my mom’s birthday…but I remembered just in time to send her some cards. Here is the art from one of them. I never actually had an antler costume, but I think I would have liked one.

Guess who is wearing her crankypants today!

I apparently live in the noisiest neighborhood in the known universe. Last week a truck backed up FOR HALF AN HOUR at 6 in the morning. As I live on a short block and the I’m-backing-up beep went on and on, I can only imagine that the truck rolled very…very…slowly down the block at less then one quarter of a mile per hour. This morning a car alarm went off at 4:45, which left me awake but too tired to do things I needed to do (I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to do taxes or bills at 4:45 in the morning. I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to do much of anything at 4:45 in the morning). I finally fell asleep and the neighbor who can only be a chainsaw artist started working. I have no idea what kind of work other than chainsaw artist requires the use of a chain saw EVERY MORNING. Unless maybe he is a very active serial killer.

That’s all in the morning though. At night I have the neighbor that plays some video game at top decibels, the neighbor who comes home drunk and stands outside with his friends “chatting” at the top of his voice, The guy who calls home long distance to India, right under my bedroom window and the guy who vomits every morning at 3 am. Seriously.

I know that I must make noise that I am unaware of but really people! But to be fair, they are all nice enough to shut up if you ask them politely. But I kind of feel like I really shouldn’t HAVE to ask someone to not stand under my open window at 2 in the morning having and argument on their cell phone. My window is in a little alcove, it’s not like he is standing on the street.

Needless to say but said anyway…lack of sleep makes me cranky.

Do you have a preferred tipple? Do you know what tipple means? Because it’s not nearly as dirty as it sounds (I say that a lot, I think everything sounds dirty. So immature!).

See, I had a few drinks this weekend and I was thinking about how I came to be a whisky drinker. It really was a random choice. We were talking at work one day and somehow we all decided that we wanted to start sampling whisky, so we did. And now, quite randomly, I am a whisky drinker, as in, whisky is my drink of choice, which is not entirely true actually now that I think about it for a second. Whisky is my drink of choice in the winter, gin and tonic in the summer and beer with food. But I am pretty picky about all of them. I have kind of expensive tastes. I would rather drink water than drink a beer I don’t like. Same with whisky I think, although I am more flexible with gin because I prefer to mix it with something (soda, tonic, olives, ice…although I may have had a gin and juice more than once in my life because yes, I am that ghetto (Dude, I am so NOT ghetto even when I try to be)). I did the “extremely cheap alcohol” thing in college, I don’t need to do that anymore. Seriously, you can only be friends with Pepe Lopez for so long.

Wine is another story though. I can appreciate a fine wine but what I buy is actually either the best cheap wine in a box I can find (I am totally serious, stop looking at me like that), or the wine with the prettiest label. As I am prone to headaches, I tend to avoid reds and stick with whites. I don’t like it too sweet, but I don’t like it too dry either. But all that is really beside the point as I have often said to my friends while drinking something that could be wine or could be anti-freeze “I have never met a wine I wouldn’t drink.” I have had Nightrain and Mad Dog and I’m not even a hobo! I may have even drunk Boone’s Farm from the bottle with a crazy straw, I ain’t sayin’ one way or another. Me and wine, we are long time friends.

But in reality, I am not that big a drinker (shutup Jodi!). Saturday night marked the end of a particular bottle of whiskey that I have been nursing for two years. And it was sad. I didn’t want to say goodbye to my “The Speyside” (that’s the name of it, you have to keep the “The” in there, other wise you are just talking about a type of whisky, see, not only do I drink it, but I know things about it! That’s what makes me a “drinker” not an “alcoholic”). Naturally, there is another bottle that is already taking its place. And there is one in line for after that, but extrapolating from the previous bottle-drinking rate, I think it will take a while to get through these. Wanna come over for a drink? I gots lots to share!


(psst...In case you were wondering, "whisky" is the preferred spelling for the drink that comes from Scotland. Which is what I usually drink. But I am totally open to other spellings and other "whiskeys" if you are buying.)

Searching for answers. Finding nothing.

Lately it seems popular to post what people are searching for when they wind up at your blog. I always find this fascinating. Mostly people who just Google and up here are searching for The Rolling Stones “Some Girls” album, info on Ciaran Hinds, Bruce Parry or a 1976 Cutlass Oldsmobile. I even cut some of my links to that stuff in order to not mislead traffic. Today, however, I went to Google to search for something and I noticed all the searches I have done since I last emptied my cache. So, instead of presenting you with the odd searches that got people here…here are the odd searches that got me somewhere. I am amazed by the number of comic book references, although I suppose I shouldn’t be. I also tend to use Google Images a lot for picture reference, so I left out the less interesting searches like “mermaid” and “crown”. The really odd thing is that I can remember what almost every single one of these searches was for (go ahead, ask me why I wanted to know about “cram cream”, it’s not as dirty as it sounds), I mean, why I wanted the information, obviously I can tell what I searched for…duh. I haven’t linked anything because, well, aside from the fact that I am far too lazy, I suggest that if you really can’t figure out why a person would search for…let’s say…“cockney rhyming slang+Britney”, that you Google it for yourself and see what comes up! It could be an entertaining waste of two seconds.

Hunh, now I am going to get weird random hits on things that I have gotten weird random hits on…weird.

And please don’t ask why I was searching for “sweet dreams romances”…I just was, OK?

ali g
all this is mine
amaranth
american library association
anderson website had wedding date wrong
ant+comic
antlers
anti-adoption
archie comics
arthur rimbaud
bells+whisky
bershon
big boss comics
billboard+1992
bird in a skirt
black bush whiskey
bluefish
boom! studios
bree walker
buddha machine
buffalo tofu
bullet
buttercup
clementon park
cockney rhyming slang+britney
convert c to f
cram cream
cutting+psychology
dicketry
dream dictionary
dudley moore+dance sequence
dumplings
eddie izzard+lowlife
elizabethan hats
eric powell
esa pekka salonen
eu de cologne
fauxtess
fake girl scout badges
fan museum+london
fat tony diamico
flip flops
folding cane
for better or for worse+blinking
general public
gentleman zombie
giant fortune cookie
good goth
headache map
headbandshealth by chocolate
henry: portrait of a serial killer
honey ice cream
how do i store fresh tofu?
how do you feel today?
hyde park+chair rental
is tmj hereditary?
is yawning and involuntary reflex?
is yawning contagious?
jacky-twoad
jeff levine+comics
jeremy lambros
jin vase
johnny speedpants
justjenn designs
k-tel+songbird
katchipuri
kristen bell
krust+bakery+burbank
l u v+ new york dolls
last kiss comics
lemon cake
lionel richie
lipstick
lismore single malt
locks of love
lonelygirl15
mc steamy
me and ro
metheglin
milville, nj
mollisher
mr. toast
my precious
nutritional content calculator
nick fury
nicolae ceaucescu
oni comics
one inch buttons
paddington station
pagliacci
panda
piggy bank
queen of england
radiation treatment for cancer
raina tegelmeyer
ratt+metal
reverse phone directory
richard iii+ring
richie rich
rick geary
road closings october 3 los angles
roman dirge
run lola run
sad robots need love too
script+clerks
shiba inu
silent devil comics
silver bullet comics
slave leia
smart monkey raw food
songs on “house”
soy yoghurt
sugarfree peach pie
sweet dreams romances

Damn, this is along list AND it's edited AND it only goes to "s". Well, maybe someday I will do the rest of the alphabet. Heck, it amuses me!

Oh Cupcakes, I love you.

So, the vegan baking experiments have continued. There has been much cupcaking. Chocolate, vanilla (two different attempts) and orange. All have been pretty decent, some have been excellent. Next up, perfecting the icing.

I am not such the icing fan. My default icing is whipped cream-cream cheese icing, which shouldn’t be too hard to veganize. It will be thicker than the original but who cares? As long as it tastes good. And I have been pleased with the results of all the experimentation so far, so I am hopeful that it will taste good. And hey, there are plenty of hardcore non-vegans who seem to be enjoying it all as well. The girl in the office upstairs just opened the window and yelled down that she loved my chocolate cupcakes. Unless that was some kind of disturbing come-on…no, no…she was talking about the actual cupcakes.

As well as potentially saving some animals and resources, I am finding vegan baking to also be very handy. I am not one who eats eggs really to begin with, so when I do have them around it’s often a question of…um…how old are these? And you can do that whole float them in water thing but I never remember if it’s good for an egg to sink or swim, so cutting them out of the recipe entirely is just safer. Same for the milk, I don’t drink it so I don’t generally know off the top of my head if there is any about, but since these recipes don’t call for it, no worries. Very handy that.

But so far, so good with the vegan baking. Come on over and try it for yourself…actually…don’t. I won’t answer, you’ll see my shadow through the peephole but I’ll pretend I’m not home. You’ll know because you’ll hear the television suddenly mute.

Oh wait, one more thing…does anyone know if the expression “humpy daddy” is pretty much exclusive to the gay community? I thought it was kind of on par with “yummy mummy” but after a quick google, I find mostly links that I don’t want to click…go figure. And if it is, what would you say is the male equivalent to a “yummy mummy” (which is the polite terminology for a MILF). And if you have no idea what I am talking about at all…don’t do a search, for the love of Pete, DON’T DO A SEARCH!

Five.

I was reading April Winchell’s blog and if you don’t read it, it’s worth a look. She’s very funny and she has a great and disturbing mp3 collection. She was recently interviewed for a Japanese women’s magazine. They told her that they always ask 5 questions and…well, you can read it all at her place. But I was intrigued by the questions. I have an ongoing interview with myself in my mind, just so I won’t get caught off guard when the time comes so I decided to go ahead and answer these, just to keep in top form for any future interviews…

1. Do you have any good luck charm? Do you practice any ritual to make your work successful?
I always want to believe that I have a good luck charm and over the years I have carried many different things in my pockets for good luck; a jade fish, a St. Christopher card, various pebbles and shells, you name it. But in the end, I really don’t believe in luck, I just believe that I should have a good luck charm. At the moment, I have none. I do, however have a 128MB jump drive in my pocket, so today, that is my good luck charm. So far, it’s not working. And I don’t practice any ritual to make my work successful, but I probably should just practice, that would make me better at it.


2. Three things you always carry in your purse?
THREE? Are you serious? Only three? Well, there are tons of things I THINK I need in there, but I do always have eyedrops, lip balm and at least three pens in there. Oh and come to think of it, I have a key card from a vacation at Disney World in my wallet. It’s five years old but I guess I do keep it as kind of a good luck charm. But really it’s just a “good day” reminder.


3. Where do you go for relaxing?
Now, if I had the money and the vacation time, this question would have a very different answer, but as it stands right now, I go to the bathroom for relaxing. And that’s not just for the obvious reason, but because I know I can be alone in the bathroom. People don’t like to bother you there. Needless to say, I spend a lot of time hiding in the bathroom.


4. One book you will bring with you for your travel.
Again I say ONE? JUST ONE? I always travel with far too many books. Today, I have…3 books and two magazines with me. One book is The Moor by Laurie King, the other two are guides on hand made books, one magazine is High Fructose, because there is an article about Mark Ryden in there that I have been trying to read but I keep getting distracted by the crappy editing. The other magazine is a music magazine called Magnet. I haven’t really read any of it yet.


5. What kind of compliment do you like to hear most about yourself?
I like when people tell me I smell good. You could tell me I looked nice, I wouldn’t believe you. You could tell me that I am funny, I would strongly doubt that. You could tell me you like my hair, my eyes, my whatever…not interested. But if you tell me I smell good, I am flattered. Because I think I do. But you have to be really close to smell me and I’ll probably punch you before you discover that the combination of coconut body butter and honey shampoo is really nice.

I think scent is one of the least regarded senses, until something smells really bad, that is. I assure you, most of the time, I smell pretty good or not much at all. Most of the time.

Right now: I am listening to this dude. I downloaded his stuff for free (it’s there for a limited time so snap it up if you are interested). It’s intriguing. I keep thinking “Hey, I really like this dude” and then all of the sudden he does something that I really don’t like. So at least he is keeping me on my toes. See, kind of like rehearsing for that one big interview. There it is all tied up in a neat little package for you. There you go.

This makes me so happy.

I miss Sifl & Ollie.

I tried.

For the record, I just want to announce that I did TRY the Pumpkin Pie Latte thing. Schwee was kind enough to offer me the first two sips from hers. She told me I had to take two because after the first one, I would not be sure if I liked it or not. She was right. I had two. I have decided that I don’t need anymore. I did, however, enjoy the Maple Macchiato. But I will return to my café Americano until the White Chocolate Peppermint Mocha arrives, I will have one too many of those and then I will go on back to plain ol’ coffee.

I won’t declare the Pumpkin Pie Latte experiment a failure. Not like the ill-fated Banana Mocha Frappicino experiment. But I don’t think I need to try it again.

I just don’t know what to think of this whole “pumpkin pie latte” thing. Schwee has had several times now and every time I think…”Oooh, that’s sounds good!…no, it sounds wrong…no, it sounds good.” Today she said “Oh, come on, if you could get a Boston Cream Pie beverage, you totally would!” But the interesting part of a Boston Cream Pie is the differences in texture, I argued. Then she said that a Boston Cream Pie drink WOULD have diffences in texture…I shudder to think. I’m sticking to my Café Americano for the moment. Or, as I like to call it…coffee.

Wow, not a lot has been going on lately. Well, I did get to meet Mr. Palmer for dinner last week…he says it was not awkward, I am shocked. I don’t know how to be anything other than awkward. Actually, I had a really nice time hanging out with him and hope he comes back with the family. And my family too, for that matter. But there is your example of yet another blogger meeting that doesn’t end in tragedy.

Ah, what else? What else? Well, I did go grocery shopping yesterday, which is hardly news but I was totally fascinated by the other people in the store. See, I am a pretty organized grocery shopper. I make lists, I arrange the lists by aisle. I know what brands I want and all but if I send James to the store, I make sure I give him an incredibly detailed list with weights, colors of the packages, brand names, if the generic is ok, stuff like that. (Apparently, sometimes I go overboard. Once I sent him to the store for confectioner’s sugar. I am pretty sure I gave him the bag weight, and probably wrote “10x confectioner’s sugar” on the list. He called to tell me that the store didn’t have any confectioner’s sugar and could I possibly use powered sugar instead. Sigh.) So there was this guy in the store shopping by himself, but every time I passed him he happened to be one the phone with whomever he was shopping for. I ran across him and evesdropped during the “brown sugar” discussion:

“Well, they have light brown and golden brown. Oh wait here is the dark brown. But you want light brown? Is that the same as golden brown? Do you want it in a box or a bag? Well, they have a bag but it’s not re-sealable. Well, they have the dark brown in a re-sealable bag. Is golden brown the same?”

I grabbed what I needed and carried on. I must have passed him at least four times and every time he was on the phone. I don’t know what to make of that. I think it’s nice that he’s concerned enough to get EXACTLY what the person on the other end of the line wants, but man, what a tedious conversation if you are that other person!

Then, while in the soup aisle, I passed a couple shopping together. I woudn’t have noticed them except the man SHOUTED everything he said to the woman. I guess she could have been hearing impaired but I got the impression that he was just loud. She was scurrying ahead of him, shivering and muttering to herself. At first I thought she was afraid of him but then I realized that I shiver in the grocery store (it’s cold in there!) and I surely mutter to myself if I take a loud male with me…not that the male I take is loud…heh.

So he was running down the aisle after her yelling, “Hey I’m going to get this soup meal. Right? Because you said the food won’t be ready for a while? So this way I won’t get hungry, right? See? THIS SOUP MEAL.”

That’s all. Just observing. I like to shop alone but I take James with me a lot of times so he can pick out what he wants. It’s not quite that bad with him. Not quite.

Friday Thirteen..I mean...eight.

There is this little weekly meme called Thursday Thirteen that I ran across while following links. Now, I am not at all a joiner, and I fancy myself as something of a rebel, but because I can’t think of anything else to write about today but I still feel like writing something, I am going to do a list of thirteen things that people who know me, probably don’t know about me. Why? Well, why not?

1. I really like fairies and butterflies. People are generally surprised by this as I don’t seem like much of an airy-fairy kind of girl. But good fairy art, is sadly, a rarity and bad fairy art abounds, but the good kind, I just love. And butterflies are pretty, so there. AND I like bees too. A lot. BEES!
2. I don’t really like soda all that much. I drink it because I like the bubbles. Through most of my teen years I paid full price for seltzer at fast food restaurants because they didn’t want to give it to me for free. Half the time I had to show the counter people how to get seltzer out of the machine in the first place (there’s a little tab on the side of one of the soda spouts that will give you seltzer, no syrup).
3. And speaking of beverages, I like coffee just fine but I generally prefer to drink it in the evening. Sadly, I can’t because I am also an insomniac and I don’t need any extra chemicals making that worse.
4. I hate wearing socks but my feet are often cold.
5. I have a serious addiction to bags. Handbags, tote bags, wallets, pouches, you name it, I love them. And once I start thinking about one, I have to have it. And then I decide I don’t like it and I give it away. It’s a sickness.
6. I started Christmas shopping this week, and I feel bad about starting so late.
7. There is a light-up jawa on my desk.
8. Hmmm…I am boring enough only to make it to 8 before I give up.

How I know it's fall, despite the hot weather.

The candy jar in the office has been invaded by Sweetarts. The Sweetarts have, in turn, overwhelmed the chocolate. Now all the Kisses smell of Sweetarts. Which is really disgusting. Because it looks like chocolate but smells all wrong.


Years ago, I shared an office with only one other person. We didn’t have an open floor plan and we had a huge space between the two of us. Since we managed to find a common musical ground and iTunes hadn’t really been invented yet, we had a boombox and some cds. Sometime around Halloween, we had a monster movie cd. All the background music from famous horror movies that we would put on to evoke the Halloween-y type mood. A few hours into the day I realized that my heart was racing and I was working really fast and feeling incredibly nervous. It took us a few days to make the connection. Every year around this time we start to contemplate bringing the monster music out. We’d certainly get a lot of work done but we’d also probably jump out of our skins at ever little noise.

Book marks.

Do you write in your books? Or does me asking that question make your skin crawl?

I used to think there was no sin greater than writing in a book. The AUTHOR wrote the book, I was just a humble reader. What could I possibly bring to the metaphorical table by adding my scrawl to a page?

Then I went to college and we were required to write in books. This was shocking to me. And I suspect, to many others after all those years of grade school textbooks that must never, ever be sullied by neither pen nor pencil. Those textbooks were so important that we had to make special covers for them. That was always the first assignment of every year, right? To cover your books. But in college, we had to pay for our books, they were ours, we couldn’t get in trouble for writing in them. In fact, we probably would get in more trouble for not writing in them. And nothing was more valued than a well-annotated textbook. Especially if it was for something kind of tough, like medieval literature. Especially if you could buy it used and it already had notes it.

My college was so determined to make us write in our books that we actually had classes devoted to it. And we were all required to take them. We bought multicolored highlighters and had intricate systems of marking out the most important bits. And for books like The Odyssey, we would mark the bits that different teachers thought important in different fluorescent colors. It was rough. I just wasn’t comfortable writing in a book. I felt…dirty.

It was a few years after college that it occurred to me that maybe it was OK. Maybe it was actually a good idea to write in my books. I remember the first of my non-textbooks that I ever wrote in; it was that big a deal to me. It was a book of the letters of F. Scott Fitzgerald and I wanted to be able to find the passage again. In fact, I bet if I went to the bookshelf right now, I could find that passage, it was in a letter to his daughter and it was exceptionally funny…except the bookshelf is in another room and I am lazy.

After that I pretty much lost any reverence I had for books. Oh, I love books, probably a little too much. I pretty much have an entire storage unit filled with books, some I have read and some…that I will read…eventually…I swear. There are stacks of books all over my apartment. In fact, there is not a single room that does not have books in it. The kitchen has it’s own bookshelf, the hallway houses a basket of poetry, the bathroom…well let’s just say there’s always something to read in our bathroom. But once I started writing in my books, I started treating them a little rougher, no bookmark, no problem, fold the page back (I swear I can hear people cry when I say that). And bindings, dude, just like hearts, they are made to be broken.

I don’t scribble in every book I own. But I realized that these were MY books and I could do what I wanted with them. Generally I just make notes to myself on a particularly lovely passage or cleverly used word. Sometimes it’s a reference to another book. And I also realized that I like to buy used books that have notes in them. It makes me happy to see what other people think.

But, in all honesty, I started thinking about this because I wanted to loan a book to an acquaintance. She doesn’t know me very well and that’s OK but the book I want to loan her is my favorite book of poetry. It’s…well loved. Kind of like the Velveteen Rabbit. When I first got it, I carried it around in my bag. One day a soda spilled on it. It is warped and stained but that doesn’t worry me so much. It’s all the little notes in it that made me think twice about loaning it out. The little hearts around the one poem I love so much. The “very clever” comments next to some particularly good similes. I am afraid that, not knowing me all that well, my rough treatment of books will scare her. And I don’t want her to know what kind of dork I am.

Yeah, a big dork. I know.

Miss Audrey Kitty is her full name.

I have a cat. Me and my cat, we have been together a long time. We get along. She’s not a cuddly, sit on your lap cat. She’s more a sit on the floor staring at you and meowing loudly until you start saying “WHAT? WHAT IS IT? Did Timmy fall down the well or are you just hungry?” kind of cat. But we are happy together. She doesn’t want to sit on me, she wants to sit next to me. And she doesn’t want a bite of my chicken, she wants all of my chicken. It works out fine. Well, it works out fine for her.

I know she is getting old and I know that it’s ghoulish but I think quite a bit about her mortality…catality? Whatever. And I know that there will come a time when no one is sitting on the floor staring and meowing loudly and it makes me sad. But I am a realist about these things. I am because having a cat has made me so. No, really, I was set up for my cat’s demise when she was only a wee kitten. And for a long time when I thought about it, it was kind of funny. Maybe not so much anymore…no…it’s still funny.

See, Miss Audrey..what? THAT’S HER NAME. I can call her Audrey but she really prefers you not be so familiar with her. She was a parking lot cat, rescued along with her brother (his name is Atila the Hun and last we heard he lived in Pennsylvania. Having a brother named Atila should give you some idea of Miss Audrey’s personality. She is, after all, named after a Honeymooner, a movie star and a man-eating plant) from some industrial park. I had always wanted a cat but my father claimed to not like the nasty little beasties. He agreed to let Miss Audrey move in with us only if he could refer to her as “the dog” and insisted upon teaching her to bark. He was duly shocked when she did.

OK, anyway, when Miss Audrey first came to live with us, I took her to the vet, as all responsible pet parents should. They told me to bring her back in a few months to have her spayed and when the time came we set of the veterinarians office. She was tucked into her jaunty tan cat carrier and was dropped off with only a few plaintive yowls (from her, not from me). They told me that the surgery itself didn’t take very long but that the recovery could take a bit of time. She would be grumpy from the antastezia and tender from the stitches (turns out the grumpy part was just her natural state of being). The doctor said he would call me later in the day to let me know when I could pick her up.

It was midday when he called and he told me that there had been a little problem with the surgery. I had only had this kitten for a few months but I was firmly attached to her and she seemed to be just as attached to me. The words “little problem” nearly made me swoon. Luckily it wasn’t as bad as all that. Turns out that when they spay a cat, they make a small incision and move the fallopian tubes outside the body. When they had moved Miss Audrey’s, one of them snapped and was pulled back into her body. It sounded gruesome but the end result was only that they had to make a wider incision than normal and that she would be tender from the manhandling. Other than that, she was fine and I could pick her up at the end of the day.

The vet’s office was unusually busy when I arrived. I had paid in advance and only needed to pick the cat up so I stood at the front desk until an assistant could help me. I told her that I was here to pick up my cat, Audrey, and she sent some dude in the back to get her.
After a few minutes wait he showed up with a cardboard box. Since Miss Audrey had arrived in her jaunty tan cat carrier, I assumed this was someone else’s pet. The dude put the box on the counter in front of me and said, “I’m so sorry.” It was only then that I noticed that the cardboard box bore the legend “Kitty Coffin.” (OK I will swear to you that it actually did say “Kitty Coffin” on the side of the box but I could be lying. It definitely said “coffin” though because I knew enough to recoil in horror from a little cardboard box.) I was…I don’t even know what I was. I remember feeling the blood rush from my head and stammering out “But…but…she was only here to get spayed. What happened?” I remember holding on the counter and losing my mind a little bit. The nurse looked at me, looked at the box and said “Oh my god. You got her the wrong cat!”

She apologized. The dude took the kitty coffin into the back room and I sat down to wait. It took a little longer than it should. I wondered if indeed something had gone horribly wrong. Or if maybe they were trying to reanimate my tiny kitten or something awful but in a few minutes the jaunty tan cat carrier arrived with many apologies.

Miss Audrey is fine. She rules the house with an iron paw and has since her kittenhood. But that was a bad day for both of us.

Gallumaufry Arts

There are plenty of websites that promote small businesses. This has never really been one of them. But I do actually read a few review and shopping promotional sort of sites. Modish and Mixed Plate are my favorites. Recently, I read a review of Gallumaufry Arts on Mixed Plate and the bits and bobs there really appealed to me, so I placed an order.

My little package arrived today and boy is it lovely. I bought a few little things, some earrings, some notebooks and everything is beautifully made. Heck the packaging alone made me feel special. All my little items arrived in a shiny black box decorated with ribbon and a coppery charm. It made me feel like a princess, I tell you, A PRINCESS!

If you need a nice gift for, say, a teacher and you know she’s going to get a million and one little soaps (my mom was a teacher, they always get a million and one little soaps) maybe a cool sticky note notebook would do the trick. Who doesn’t love to use sticky notes? And don’t they always get messy? Yes, yes, they do.

I also got a chain mail ring. Very pretty, very comfortable, very reasonable price. This is good stuff. I say check it out.

I don’t intend to become a shopping blog but since I like to support a lot of indie artists and businesses, I will pass on any good info I get to you. Maybe in a few weeks, when I start my Christmas shopping (Yes, it’s time to start! Heck, my mom is already done. She’s probably got all her presents wrapped too. We are way behind, people. Waaaaay behind.), I will point out a few more cool sites. And maybe you will be inclined to buy from them. I love Target as much as the next person but hey, when you buy indie, you know you are getting something that was made by hand, hopefully with care. And more often than not you get something one of a kind. And who wants to be just like everyone else?

What's going on?

I haven’t done this in a while but here goes...

I am currently reading these books:
Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell- Big, long, heavy book. I read it in little bits here and there. What I have read, I have really enjoyed, but so far, for me, it has not been a “sit down and go at it” sort of book.
The Moor- Just started reading this one on lunch breaks. I decided that The Great Stink, while not particularly nasty, was just disgusting enough for me not to want to read it while I eat.
The Great Stink- I am reading a book about sewers. Is that enough? Should I also tell you that one of the main characters is a cutter? So far, so eh.
How to Cook a Wolf- Genius. I have read this before and I dragged it out to remind me why I like it. If you like to cook this is an excellent book to remind you why you like to cook.

I am currently NOT reading these comics (but I should be…):
Tramps Like Us- borrowed from Jodi, I really need to get my act together and finish reading those. Sorry, Odi.
Watchmen- yeah, yeah. I keep starting and stopping. I know it’s a classic and all but since when do I care about comic book classics?

I am currently listening to:
The Buddha Machine- I am totally fascinated by this thing. I don’t actually have one but I did download the sounds from it. And I listened to a 35 second loop of a tone for about two hours yesterday. It was soothing. Seriously.
Franco Corelli- I listen to a fair amount of opera but I don’t know all that much about it. I heard Franco Corelli recordings on the Premiere Opera Podcast and just fell in love with his voice.
Massive Attack- 100th Window-This album got some kind of so-so reviews. I rather enjoy it. It’s nice when I am driving home and I just need to chill a little.
The New York Dolls- On the flip side, this is what I have been listening to on my way to work and need to wake up. Trashy in all the right ways.

I’ve been watching:
Hmm…well, with all the new shows starting, I have been picking and choosing a bit.
I rather liked “Men in Trees” it was cute and sweet and not at all what TV is like these days. Therefore it will be cancelled.

I’m happy that “House” is back. Sure, it’s the same old story over and over again but I really like the characters…all except that girl. I really, really don’t like her.

I was enjoying “Life on Mars” quite a lot but that has wrapped up its season. I hope it comes back for another as I am completely smitten with Gene Hunt (as played by Philip Glenister). James says that I take my management style from him. Drink whisky and punch until people do what you want. Works for me.

I’m finally starting to catch up on the final season of “Deadwood”. So sad. It’s such a good show and now…poof…all over except for the movies.

And I’m loving “Weeds”. What do I have in common with a widowed suburban drug dealing mom?...Nothing. But damn if this show doesn’t make me laugh.

I did watch “Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip” the other night. I was not impressed. I didn’t hate it. I didn’t love it. I will give it another shot or two before deciding but I did like Sarah Paulson so…who knows? I think I just don’t like Aaron Sorkin’s style, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out why.

I’ve been making:
New designs for kiddie clothes with the intention of opening an etsy.com store. Well, that’s the intention…we’ll see if I ever actually do it.

Current Crush:
Philip Glenister who just happens to be the brother of Robert Glenister of “Hustle”, who is also lovely.

What are you reading, not reading, listening to, watching, doing and on whom are you crushing? Or is it nosy of me to ask?

Change. For Illustration Friday.

Poor little piggy bank. He looks kind of worried.

I do. I did. I'm done.

This weekend was a big one. Well, Saturday was a big one. We spent the day attending a wedding in Ojai. It was lovely. The ceremony was held on a lavender farm and although it was very sunny, it also was nicely breezy, so it never got too hot. And the bride was smart enough to gift the guests with parasols to keep the sun out of our faces.

The reception was equally lovely. The only strange thing was that rain of ash from the sky. Omen, you say? Nah, just a raging fire on the mountains that turned the sky and eerie purple gray and make it look like Christmas, what with the falling from the sky and all. I tried to convince people to catch the little flakes on their tongues but no one was sucker enough for that.

Having done the wedding thing once and having been through many more with my friends, I am going to say something here that most people won’t say. Weddings? Just don’t. Get married if you must but I gotta say, weddings, not so much fun. Oh, you go into thinking that YOU won’t get stressed like all those other brides (and grooms), that YOU won’t get fleeced by the vendors, that YOU know the best way to do everything. But let me tell you, I have yet to see anyone that actually was enjoying themselves come wedding time. And while I had a fine old time at my own wedding, I can’t deny that there was a considerable amount of stress around my mellow little outdoor service and brunch reception.

But the best wedding I have ever been too was probably the worst wedding ever for a bride, so maybe I am wrong. Maybe the entertainment value for the friends and family makes it all worth it. Let’s see how this goes…well, first the car with the bride and bridesmaids broke down. This was in the days before cell phones so someone trucked to a pay phone and called the tow truck. The wedding was slightly delayed while the bride and bridesmaid drank the bottle of blackberry brandy that happened to be in the trunk and waited for help.

When they finally arrived at the church, slightly tipsy, I might add, the flower girl refused to go down the aisle. She was dragged down kicking and screaming which, was fine because once they got everyone lined up, the ring bearer lost his shit and started screaming for mommy. OK, still not tragic. The groom, who was not a native English speaker, got so nervous that after three attempts, just delivered his vows in Spanish.

Wait…I’m not finished yet. It gets better.

At the reception, the bride’s brother decided to come out of the closet and declare his sexual status by dancing with his boyfriend, who, by the way, was my ex. But then the bride slipped on the dance floor and broke her ankle. Luckily the reception was being held in a firehall and the e.m.t.’s just came in from the front of the building. While we waited for them, the brother of the bride started a conga line around his injured sister. But you know, the hall was paid for and all so the bride’s aunt just put on the veil and grabbed the bouquet and the party continued on as before. It was awesome.

I never did hear if that particular bride found her wedding stressful. But it is, for me, the ultimate example of the joy a wedding can bring to all…or not.

And speaking of omens, I have a friend who planned to have her wedding reception on a boat that cruised the Deleware River. A few months before the event, she called to tell me that the boat had sunk. Omen? Well…they are still married.

Oooh...

For the Doctor Who fans in the house...Sarah Jane and blood and snogging. How can that be bad?

Note to self...

...don't read a book on the reconstruction of the London sewer system while eating your lunch.

See also: Don't read Zombie Tales comics while eating lunch. Better yet...don't read anything with sewers or zombies in it.

List

My bff just came back from a trip to London, England (you have to say “London, England” lest anyone be confused. Also it makes you sound like a rube, which I am). I was in London, England very briefly on my whirlwind tour of the United Kindgom and Ireland but I really didn’t get to see all that much of London, England, even though I saw a lot of other things in the United Kingdom…and Ireland. By all accounts it was a very good trip. I drank scotch in Scotland and Guinness in Ireland and cider in Wales. So there are at least three lifetime goals achieved. But I would like to go back. And there are specific things I would like to do so I am making a list because I can’t think of anything else to do right now except work and quite frankly, I am totally over work.

So, things to do in London, England when you aren’t yet dead:

• Visit the Tate Modern and see The Fairy Feller’s Master Stroke.


• See the portrait of Alan Rickman in the National Portrait Gallery.


• See the dolls houses in the Victoria and Albert Museum.


• Go to the Fan Museum (Why am I the only person that gets excited by a Fan Museum?).


• Take the underground tour of the Globe Theatre.


• Go to Paddington Station for a cup of tea…


• …And Portobello Road and try to find a cream bun and some marmalade (can you see what I am getting at here? Paddington Bear? No? OK. Fine. Heathens.) .


• Have EBCB for breakfast, give E and B to someone else, and order some toast for my B.


• Find that Pan Bookshop again and spend a crapload of money.


• Splash a bit in the Diana Fountain…because you can.


• See if I can find Number Seventeen Cherry-Tree Lane.


• Rent a chair in Hyde Park and sketch people before wandering off to Speaker’s Corner.


• Take a stroll on the Millennium Bridge even if it doesn’t wobble anymore.


• Have a bit of bubbly in the Cupid’s Capsule.


• See the waterlillies.


• Visit the food halls in Harrods.


• Postman’s Park.


• Stay at the Grosvenor under the name of Rowntree.


• Drink tea. Lots of tea.

Fourteen

On Friday, my second oldest nephew turns 14. My oldest nephew has recently graduated from college and is starting a job that will earn him something like ten times the amount I earned my first year out of college. And possibly more than I earn right now. But this isn’t about jealousy. This is about my fourteen year old nephew and his birthday…and jealousy. Because I found out that my mother has purchased said nephew an ipod as a birthday gift. AND WHERE IS MY IPOD MOTHER? Oh…it’s on the table, ok. (But my husband gave me that one!). Still, I think it is an excellent present and I thought it would be nice to supplement it, so I am providing some music in the form of a gift certificate. I asked my brother what kind of music the kid was listening to and he was…well, who really knows what those crazy kids are doing these days anyway? So I went the safe route and stuck with iTunes.

But my original intent and eventual intent was to make him a mix cd to go along with the gift certificate. I guess I kind of hoped that maybe I could introduce him to something new that he would really like. OK, more likely something old, but something that he had not really listened to before. I know his mom likes a lot of the same music I do. And his dad likes some different music than his mother but still some in common with me but I thought that surely there was something untapped in the middle there. And by the way, my brother shaped some of my musical tastes that he might not actually know about…so…um…brother, if you were looking for those copies of the Eurythmics or Hoodoo Gurus tapes that you lost like, say…twenty years ago…I totally stole them. Sorry. I’ll give them back to you next time I see you.

So I started looking through the music on my computer and I realized pretty quickly that my idea of what a fourteen year old boy might like and what a fourteen year old boy might actually like are probably two totally different things. I started throwing stuff in a folder and got to the “B’s” before I thought that maybe this was going to take a little more effort than I originally thought. I put “Eyes” by Apollo Sunshine, “1976” from RJD2, “ABC” by The Jackson 5, “All Of Me” as played by Django Reinhardt, “Antmusic” from Adam & The Ants, of course, “Beautiful Dreamer” by Mates of State and “Brand New Colony” by The Postal Service before throwing in “Dance Like a Money” from the New York Dolls and then I started to have second thoughts. I started to wonder what I had been listening to at that age and I drew a blank. Pretty much the only albums I remember having, other than those two I stole from my brother, were a Monkees greatest hits, Supertramp’s Breakfast in America, the soundtrack to The Muppet Movie and a K-Tel Collection called “Songbird”. I know that when I was a little bit younger I would take out records from the library, two of my favorites being Andy Gibb’s Shadow Dancing and a Wings album that had a song called “Waterfalls”. But other than that, I was stumped. And pretty sure that the musical tastes of a twelve to fourteen year old girl in the early eighties would find very little in common with my nephew’s tastes.

I know I listened to the radio, so I looked up the top songs of 1982 and while I am still willing to profess my love for John Cougar (for you youngins, that’s what he was called back in the day BEFORE he was John Cougar Mellencamp and then just John Mellencamp) and for Men at Work. I am pretty sure I never need to hear most of the songs that played on the radio in 1982 ever again. And in fact, I am pretty sure they are not what I did listen to. I know there was a station that I liked that had a morning DJ named Mo Hawk. I am doubting that he played “Gloria” by Laura Brannigan all that often.

Then thought I might try a different tactic. So I looked up the top twenty songs of 1992. Surely we had better luck in the year he was born. He came out of 1992, surely something else good did. Turns out, not so much. OK, OK, I admit that I still like to break out “Baby Got Back” from time to time, but that’s more for fun than for anything else. And again, I am reminded how very little I actually listened to the radio in 1992.

So, I am going back to the drawing board, or the cd collection, I guess. I’m thinking you can’t go wrong with a little Ramones, a little Sparks, a little Nerf Herder. And I’m guessing he might dig some They Might Be Giants and some Eels. I don’t think a little education could hurt so I’m thinking a little T. Rex and The Cure should go in there too. Any suggestions?

PURPLE! The roses are PURPLE!

Something you may not know about me (and really, why would you know anything at all about me? I am just words on a page that you might occasionally glance at, but still...) is that I was a drama minor in college. Granted, I may seem to have a major in drama now, or at least be a major drama queen, and I did intend to have a drama MAJOR in college, but I realized that I was simply not tough enough to be an actress and not a good enough seamstress to be a costumer and not stupid enough to be a make-up artist. So I just did my little minor, had some fun and went on my merry way.

I say I wasn’t “tough” enough to be an actress because even as a college actress, you find yourself under painful scrutiny and that’s just not fun to me. But in truth, I was never crazy enough to be an actress either. And I’m kind of crazy, so that’s saying something.

It became obvious to me pretty early on. I juggled classes my first semester in order to be able to take both acting 101 and stagecraft 101. Stagecraft intrigued me because I have always liked the design aspect of the theatre. I love when a set looks livable, or in contrast, so fantastic that it couldn’t exist in my world. And the idea of creating those sets sounded good to me. But it was acting that I really liked. I had already been acting for years. I was in at least one production for every year I had been in school. An Indian in the kindergarten Thanksgiving play, an elf in the first grade production of “The Cobbler and the Elves”. There wasn’t going to be a second grade play until I rallied the troops and co-wrote and co-starred in my most genius bit of writing ever “The Princess and the Unicorn.” I think I even managed to costume and design sets for that one. And it was produced for the whole school. I even remember my first line “Oh woe is me! How I wish I had a horse. Oh father, father! May I have a horse?”

OK, maybe genius is generous. But I was only about seven!

But the list goes on from there. And while I never thought that I was Oscar-worthy material, I figured that I had as good a shot as a character actress as any other funny looking girl on the block. And so I plowed ahead into beginning acting, only to find I that for the first time in my life, I was just too sane.

The point was really driven home when I had to prepare a two-actress scene for class with a girl of whom I was not particularly fond. She was an imperious and pretentious little thing and annoyed me to no end. We chose a scene from “Pride and Prejudice” and naturally, I chose to play the centered and down to earth Elizabeth, if only to play against type and keep my partner from the plum role. If I remember correctly, we played a scene where Charlotte, Lizzie’s best friend, tells her that she has accepted an offer of marriage from Mr. Collins, Lizzie’s boring cousin, who will eventually inherit Lizzie’s ancestral home due to archaic English property laws. Lizzie is horrified, not only because Mr. Collins is an idiot and a bore, while Charlotte is quiet and kind, but also because Mr. Collins had eariler asked for Lizzie’s hand in marriage and Lizzie has refused for all the previously listed reasons, despite the fact that a union would insure her family remaining…what’s the opposite of homeless? Homeful. Sure, why not.

Personally, when I did act, I was of the non-method school. I always felt that we all have the basic emotions inside (well, those of us who are not serial killers, anyway) to accurately portray those emotions in a recognizable fashion to other non-serial killer type. The other actress, however, went a little method on me during rehearsals.

The scene takes place in a country drawing room. Lizzie is admonishing Charlotte for “settling” and Charlotte explains to Lizzie that some girls just don’t have options. Should be a simple enough scene for two young modern women, right? It’s still a universal discussion between women I know anyway. The stage directions called for Charlotte to rise from her chair and cross the room to the mantelpiece as she explains her decision. I suggested to the other actress that perhaps Charlotte might feel uncomfortable under her friend’s questioning and would fiddle with something on the mantle. “Yes, that’s good, but what is on the mantle?” she asked. Um…I don’t know. Let’s say something typically British like a china shepherdess. “How big?” Um…small? “And then” she says, “I think I will cross to the window and gaze out into the garden. What is in the garden?” My character, we had decided, would stand firm in the middle of the room, barely containing her outrage and might seem fearful that if she moved, she would lose her cool…so I didn’t really care what was in the nonexistent garden but I suggested that there might be…flowers.

“Ah, yes…flowers…and maybe a fountain? Or perhaps a sundial?” Sure, why not both? “Lovely…what kind of flowers are in the garden?” At this point, my acting was about to become method because I could barely contain my own rage. LET’S JUST SAY ROSES! OK? ARE ROSES EMOTIONAL ENOUGH FOR YOU?

“What color are the roses?”

Thus endeth my acting career.

P.S. Here is an excerpt from Rupert Everett’s new book that got me thinking about my actress friend.

Although it is well established that I am a nerd and dork and whatever else you choose to call me (I won’t argue), I don’t really think of myself as a “word nerd.” My grammar is pretty bad, my spelling is terrible and I just really don’t care about the rules of the literary road. I capitalize only because this stupid word processing program does it for me. I am far too lazy to hit that shift key at precisely the right moment. And I just don’t care.

But that said, I really do like words and language and all that. And I have found that I am an obsessive word…looker…upper. OK, so maybe not so good with the vocabulary there. But I am that person who will go look up a word that they don’t know. And then spend another twenty minutes looking up other words just to make sure I know them. And I am also kind of obsessed with etymology. I always wonder why we say what we do. So I end up on the grand quest to find out precisely why we say what we say.

I am quite sure a lot of people are like this but in my circles, I get laughed at when my bookmark falls out from between the pages of my latest entertainment and there is a lengthy list of words I have looked up or I still need to look up. I don’t do it for every book and often times context alone is enough. But when I read something particularly technical, say, something about codes or plants, or when I read something very period where every fabric and type of carriage is named, I like to know exactly how many wheels a “barouche” has.

The other day, I overhead someone use the word “ipecac” and although I know what ipecac is, I had no idea of the origin of the word, so I looked it up. I never expected that a duck’s penis would come into play. But there you go, the benefits of using the dictionary.

What it's like for a girl.

The other night I stopped at the drug store to pick up some touch-up hair dye. This is an inauspicious and silly beginning to a story but it ties in because I am writing here about what it’s like for me to be a girl. Not that I have any thing to compare it to…as far as you know. But you’ll see my point I think.

So, I stopped at the drugstore and the kind of parking spot I usually look for at night (directly under a light, as close to the door as possible and not blocked by other cars) was not available. No, I’m not really that lazy. During the daylight or when I am out and about with a partner, I park in the last spot available and get some walking in. But when alone…I try to be smart. But in this case, no optimal spots were available so I took the open spot. What the heck? It’s not a neighborhood I feel particularly uncomfortable in, so why worry, eh? When I came out of the store and walked to my car, I realized that vans had parked on either side of me. Big vans. Effectively blocking anyone’s view of my tiny car. Effectively making me…uncomfortable.

Here’s the thing, I am not paranoid. But I am aware of what is going on around me and I think that, for the most part, I am practical and sensible. I am often alone when I go out. And sometimes when I am home. So I take care to do what I can to keep myself safe. I park under lights, I lock my doors as soon as I get in the car, I check the backseat and under the car as I walk towards it, not in a freaking out kind of way but just in a noticing what’s around me sort of way. When someone acts in a manner I find unnerving, I leave the area. I don’t use the ATMs in dark little streets, I drive to the well lit ones (and I also have a habit of looking directly into the camera, just in case). I lock the door to my apartment as soon as I close it. I carry my keys in my hand and my cell phone in my pocket. I just try to be smart about things.

I used to have a friend who lived in a very nice neighborhood with very bad parking and I would often park several blocks away. When I would walk back to my car in the dead of night (OK, well, after dark anyway, on poorly lit streets) I never felt “unsafe” or “threatened” until the one night when a man stepped out from behind some bushes about 20 feet ahead of me. I immediately picked up my phone and pretended to talk to a friend. “Oh, I’m on my way to the car, I am parked on Elm and Broad but I am just now walking down Pine. And OH! Gee, a man just startled me.” I wanted the guy to think that someone knew exactly where I was and that I had seen him. A few seconds later, his little dog stepped out from behind the bushes too. The poor guy was just taking the pup for a stroll before bed. I felt silly. But then I realized that he didn’t need to know that. All he needed to know was that I knew he was there.

It’s not something I really think all that deeply about. I don’t really worry that I am going to get mugged when I leave my house. I don’t think I will be murdered in my bed. But when I get up in the morning and I find that my husband neglected to lock the door behind him, I get upset. And I notice when he parks in the darkest, deepest part of the parking garage and I think, “Gee, if I were alone, I don’t think I would park here.” I don’t think, as a big guy, he really worries about these things. But he probably should. We probably all should. Not worry, just pay attention.

So, when I saw those two vans on either side of my car, I took pause. I looked around, didn’t see anyone in the vans, got my keys ready and got in the car, locking the door as quickly as I could. I didn’t hyperventilate. I didn’t panic. But I did think for a moment. And then I thought about all the other times I thought for a moment. And I realized that although I don’t like defining it this way, this is what it is like to be a girl.

ADDENDUM: I wasn't sure that I wanted to post this as it makes me sound a little crazier than I am. But I reiterate: Not paranoid, just practical. And I hope, if you are not, this will remind you to be aware of your surroundings.

This one is for Steffie.

(It should really say "strawberry scented rainbows" but there's not enough room!)

Make your own here.

I give it my

What will the fashion-conscious piratebe wearing this fall?

Why ARRRRRRgyle, of course!

Sorry, couldn't resist. I was working on this pattern for something else and...there it was.

Happy Monday...oh...um...Tuesday!

Ah, the holiday weekend. One more day to do nothing at all. I like weekends.

Nothing at all isn’t entirely true. It’s close to true but I did clean the shower and sink, the kitchen counters, the living room bookshelf, my overrun “desk” (I use the dining room table. And it was bad.) and… probably something else, I don’t know.

I also finished reading a preview copy of China Miéville’s young adult book Un Lun Dun which I liked very much. It has elements of a lot of traditional young adult novels, certainly of The Phantom Tollbooth and The Wizard of Oz. But since I like both of those books, that’s just fine with me. And I think his loveliness has managed to bring familiar ideas into a new century. In fact, I am starting to wonder if I am too old to get some of it! But keep an eye out for it in February if you have a taste for that sort of thing. Besides, China Mieville is hot and smart. What better recommendation can I give?

I didn’t really do much cooking but I did make my first chocolate tofu pie. I thought it was just ok. I didn’t put any extra sugar in it since I figured that the chocolate chips had plenty. Turns out I was wrong (quelle horreur!). But James gave it a thumbs-up. People, if this man willingly eats tofu, it must not taste like health food.


Let’s see, what else? Oh! Four episodes of “Dr Who”. Which just gets better and better. Yeah, yeah. I’m a dork. I know. But then again…so are you (I’m looking in your direction, Jodi!). And I finally saw Little Miss Sunshine, which I enjoyed very much. But as I was thinking about the movie this morning. I realized that it is an incredibly familiar and predictable story. I knew what was going to happen before it happened but guess what? I didn’t care. Because it was just that well acted and directed. Well worth the money, especially since I didn’t pay for it! (Well, I did buy the popcorn and soda and then the dinner later…so I guess I paid a lot for it. But it was still worth it.)

Anything else? A quick trip to Amoeba Records. I held fast for as long as I could but when I saw the Sugarplum Fairies for just $4.99…well then I had to get that Underworld cd too…c’mon. I was going to pay $4.99 anyway! What’s an extra $8?

Moist AND erect.

There are certain words I hate. I don't actually have real reasons for hating most of them. I guess I just don't like the sounds of them. For example, I hate the word "panties" and I was actually kind of glad to hear Nick Lachay say that he hated it too on one episode of Newlyweds....what? (OK, SO I WATCHED NEWLYWEDS! IT WAS A GLORIOUS
CARWRECK AND I COULDN'T LOOK AWAY!) Panties is just a silly word and for some reason it evokes the idea of kiddie fiddlers to me. Like only dirty old men who leer at little girls would use the word. I know that's not true but it's just one of those words that I avoid using because it gives me the creeps.

"Boobs" is another one of those words. I know everyone in the whole world finds it acceptable but I really just detest that word. And I actually cringe when I hear nursing children use it. I'm sorry, I don't really know why but it just bugs me. Almost every other rude word for breast is fine with me. Well, I am not overly fond of "fun bags" but the others, they are ok. But boobies...yeesh. I think the etymology of the word comes from "bubbie" which I have seen show up in Middle English literature (damn, that makes me sound smart, don't it?) which, for some reason, doesn't offend me nearly as much. Honestly, I can't explain it. (And, even more disturbingly, as I type this, the word "boobs" has just been utttered on TV.)

There are, however, two words that I know exactly where I learned to hate them. It was college and I was editing the literary magazine. SHUTUP! I got a stipend, I was an English major, it was a perfectly respectable job. And I liked it. But I was an edgy editor! Oh yes, I was. I instituted "blind reads" so that the people choosing the poetry would not know the names of the writers. And I collected readers from all majors so we would get opinions from someone other than snotty English majors. It worked well. Until that one fateful night.

We were all sitting around reading poetry and marking it. A plus (on the back, so the next reader wouldn't be swayed) if we liked it and thought it should go into the magazine, a minus if we didn't like it and a check if we thought it was ok but not necessarily a favorite. Seems fair enough, eh? But on this particular night, a minus wasn't going to be enough to express our collective horror and distaste.

I wish I had the actual poem to show you, I really do. You would find that you no longer liked the words "moist" or "erect" either.

It was a love poem. No, actually, it was a sex poem and after the first reader discovered the poem it was a free for all. Everyone wanted to know who the writer was. I tried valiantly to keep the info contained but...well...you know. I was over-powered by poetry enthusiasts. They can be tough ones, you know.

It was bad. There are certainly sexy sex poems that anyone can appreciate. This was not one of them. And while I am sure that the object of the poets desire was flattered by his use of "erect" and "moist", I was totally turned off.

Those words have been on my no-no list ever since. And hey, that cake might be really moist, but I will go to great lengths to not describe it as such. And you can rest assured that no one has received an erector set from me since that day.

One last thing. The poem also contained the phrase "labial lips." Not only completely unsexy but redundant as well.

License to make me ill.

I have always wanted a license plate holder. You know what I mean, right? Those frames around your license plate that has some witty saying or adorable picture on it. They seem to be a nice alternative to bumper stickers when you feel you have something you must proclaim but might change your mind about later. Just in case your presidential pick ends up sucking or something. But, like most things, I over think the liscence plate holder. I want it to say something about me but I don’t want it to say too much about me. I am always kind of concerned for the grandmothers who proudly announce via the license plate frame that they are “Tyler, Anastasia and Betty’s Bubbie”. I worry that some unscrupulous person will take advantage of them somehow with that information.

I thought for a while that I would get a college alumni frame. But then I remembered that I don’t like my college all that much and why should I advertise for them when all they ever gave me was…well…hell, I paid for everything I got there (ok, MY PARENTS paid for a lot of it, but I paid in blood! And sweat! And various other bodily fluids that shall remain nameless). And you know, about a month before I graduated, I got called into the financial comptroller persons office and they asked me if I would mind pimping for donations to the college at the various senior events that would be going on for that time before graduation! They said that they felt that people would be receptive to giving money to the college at the senior balls and parties since they would be in a good mood. I was aghast. Seriously. I don’t use the word “aghast” lightly. I told them no, only with a lot of other really unpleasant words mixed in and stormed out. So, um…no, not pimping for the college with the license plate frame. Look, I told you I over think these things.

Well, last night, I came across someone who didn’t over think his license plate frame. I am not easily shocked and I am not one to censor myself but I gotta spell this one out. His frame was black with silver writing and his truck was big and badass. There were three people in the cab. The driver was male. The front seat passenger was, I think, also a dude and there was a woman in the back seat. I am assuming that the driver was the owner of the truck and the one who decided that “Hold my beer while I ef-you-cee-kay your bitch” would make a nifty statement to all drivers behind him. It sure made an impression on me.

And here I was thinking that the skulls I wanted might send the wrong message.