I was inspired to start a seven day juice fast. A few years ago I fasted for two weeks and it seemed so easy. Now, I'm not so sure.

Your head really has to be in the right place and the first two days are somewhat difficult. I'm kind of psyched though. After you get past the hunger(it completely disappears) you really begin to feel good.

At least I did. My fast will end the day before Thanksgiving. I know that will make me think twice about what I decide to stuff in my mouth that day.

When I came outside, it was perfectly balmy for a late October day. The sky was gray, but tinged with high flat clouds, fading golden at the edges. The leaves were twirling and whirling so forcefully today I thought they might burst into the doors of the car and stick there like little knives.

When I was little, I imagined autumn leaves smelling like drying tobacco as we buried our tiny bodies in giant piles of that dry must. Today I am treasuring every gorgeous moment and memory of the fading beauty that is this life on Earth.

It turned out to be a beautiful Saturday and I just finished up scouring the Casa: put everything in its place, vacuumed, scrubbed the floors and cleaned the bathrooms. What's next? I don't know. I think I'm gonna clean up and go on an adventure and shoot some photos. It's a beautiful, gorgeous day and I'm happy to be alive.

Going on 12...

so glad you were on the other side of the windshield...

via the old Motorola Razor

Pulls everything back.

He shall miss you...

Alfie, the Tibetan Terrier @ Five Months

Every morning since school has started, I hook up the Ladybug to the Simple Seven and make the jaunt to Kindergarten.

After I dropped SF off at school, I did my usual trek with The Chidler and then hopped into the bath. I gave myself the normal dose of Patchouli and forgot about it. I headed off to meet my friend Katy to work on "Database Applications". Joy.

We worked for a few hours and I went home just in time to hook my kit back up and pick up My Charge from school. A few weeks after school started the usual crossing guard started training a newbie to take over.

The Newbie is a 60-70 something codger with a beer belly who wears a "Tomahawk Community Bank" chocolate brown polyester trucker's hat(complete with hatchet graphic) and drives a sanitary looking forest green Toyota 4x4 Truck with a tidy matching topper.

Recently he flies solo. No babysitter.

His shocking white hair peeks out from under the edges of his cap and he wears square gold metal rimmed glasses with thick brown tinted lenses. In his DayGlo Chartreuse vest, he attempts to dissuade the local flow of traffic to "STOP!". Sign clenched tight in his suntanned, meaty fist, I always make sure to wait until the traffic stops to step off the curb because people are mostly drunk or blind at that time of day around here.

As he brought me across the Avenue in the direction of pick up he says,

"You smell good!" in his scratchy, crunchy, slightly nasal old guy voice.

"Thanks" I said, feeling a weird glaze pour across my face. Do I eeeeeeeeeuuuuuuu or do I ahhhhhhhhhhhh? How funny, bizarre and cool is it for a Grandpa to dig the Patchouli? As a friend of mine pointed out, "Take it as a compliment. Someday -- if we're lucky -- we all end up as senior citizens. It just happens."

I decided to ahhhhhhh.

This is the cool "partners" desk that I stole "won" on eBay for $24.
It has six drawers on each side and makes a cool dining table as well.




This is the most AWESOME 1950's mosaic and heavy brass coffee table.
Only $45! I feel so sneaky...




Sweet little Art Deco faux wood(cast metal) chair.
A real steal at only $1 more than my desk. I love a good find!

is a messy eater and still sleeps with his mommy.
(note to self: I adore how you can still see Baby and Bulldog cheeks here xo)

My weirdo neighbors had an old pair of kids handcuffs on their shitty old garage door. Leave it to SF to hook himself up when they weren't home. I called 911 and luckily, my Cool Neighbor(total non-weirdo), Josh, came to the rescue with a bevy of tools to free my little bird. Will that teach him?

I took Senior Photos of a most adorable boy. Stay tuned...

It would appear that on certain days, I am the mother of the Beast. As in Devil. Other times he's sweet, like candy. There doesn't seem to be a balance.

Yesterday was a total nightmare.

I'm doing my dishes talking to my neighbor when she says, "Isn't that Charlie?!" as I look across four lanes of traffic and see my 11 year old boxer on the other side. OMG. I ran out of the house and managed to wrangle him inside as I see one of the pugs heading west down the Avenue. The dogs escaped somehow from their backyard.

Adrenaline kicked in as I schlepped SF into the Sequoia and zoomed down the road. I moved to the left most lane and put the car in park, slamming on the hazards. I told SF to stay put.

Frank the Pug was now in the intersection of a very busy crossroads. I waved traffic out of my way like I was impenetrable to any harm. Yelling to Frank and slapping my knees, I tried to catch his attention. He paused momentarily as if to say "who the fvck are you" before he turbocharged across another four lanes of traffic and ditched behind the Halloween Express.

Fvck, was all I could think. I am never going to see this dog again. I sprinted back to my car jiggling and headed in Frank's direction. Immediately there were two or three people ahead of me who saw what happened and were hotfooting on Frank's trail. Yes, yes! They had seen him! No, it's Frank, not Hank, I said.

SF in not in his seat, but in the far nether regions of the tank and starts to bawl, "I'm never going to see sweet little Frank again!"

I couldn't say anything. Only that morning, SF went downstairs and brought Frank up to my bedroom for a morning snuggle. He was a rescue and only likes a handful of people.

Suddenly, someone motioned us down the road another two blocks. I see a green Durango and turn the corner.

"We have your dog" she said.

"You do? Oh my gosh, thank you so much!" I hugged her. As she opens the back door where her teenage son is sitting, I see Frank next to him, exhausted and completely confused.

"The good thing is these little guys run out of steam and can only go so far" he said. He was right. They are like rump roasts on knitting needle legs. I am so grateful for these strangers who helped me. They saw me and did what they could do to help.

This is why whenever I find a friendly, wayward dog, I try to pick it up and find its owners or at least take it to the humane society. I cannot just drive by. If a dog wants your help, it will let you help. If it doesn't, it will just run the other way.

I don't even think Frank recognized me for a minute. In fact, he was so scared he sprayed his anal glands. For those of you who know what I'm talking about, yeah, sick. If you don't, be glad.

I put Mr. Shankley safely inside of the Sequoia where he continued to smear his sklitch on the front seat and my pigskin backpack.

I thanked everyone again before turning around and wondering where the last of the three could have went. Ginger is normally the one who never looks back. There was no sign of her. No one saw her.

As I head towards my house, I see my neighbor talking to someone in a truck on the Avenue. I pull behind them and eventually she gets in.

"Heidi, Joe has Ginger" she said. I couldn't believe it. Mrs. Bruce Jenner decided to stay home for the day. She was in the backyard.

MY BACKYARD.

You cannot imagine how relieved I was. I don't know what I would have done if something would have happened. I can't to stand to think on it.

It was something to be entirely thankful for.

Unlike taking dear old SF to church for the first time since his blooming consciousness.

He whispered loudly, he stabbed pencils in chairs, put his feet up on the seats and whistled twice. I finally grabbed him by the arm and left before the sermon.

I can't say that I'm a church go-er. I haven't been there in over three years. I feel his pain but I wonder at times if I'm not dealing with little Damien.

I made him go upstairs for the remainder of the evening while I indulged my whimsy.

I sat in the house, quiet except for a dog sigh every now and then. When it was all said and done and my head hit the pillow, I was glad we were all under one roof. Even if we are all naughty, naughty, naughty.

Granny said what?

First photos from my new camera! I'm in luh-huv!

Does this call for a new camera? I think maybe...

i met my friend's BF tonight. he was just, just, someone i wouldn't want a crack whore to marry. SF was dying to show him his room and 'secret lair'. in addition, SF was excited to give his guests a gumball from the Ford machine. this was met unenthusiastically by said boyfriend. i didn't react but i thought, 'you sir are exactly the pig i always imagined you to be'. i asked SF if he liked the BF and he said "yeah, but he's crosseyed".

he is.

he moved in with my friend earlier this summer. he shows up at night and leaves in the morning. every weekend he is 'working.' she's 20, he's 29. there are so many red flags i want to bust out a bruce lee move and ring the bell in the ring. oy.

i'm glad it's over. he lacks warmth, personality and uncrossed eyes. i'm so glad that i'm single. even if the sex is mindblowing, i'd rather diddle myself.

i actually like this photo


my classic crooked smile...

this is 'alfie' the Tibetan Terrier, my parents new baby!

just a bunch of kale, cabbage and cukes...
drink up, sailor!

"piggy"- the pug chihuahua pup

Yay! I'm Jeanna's guest blogger! Hooray! Hooray! Sometime, Jeanna and I are going to get tipsy together! If you haven't enjoyed her blog before, you should! She has plans for something bigger in the works and she'll be moving on from The Dish. Catch her while she's hot!

yay. my gigantic sale is finished. i took the really nice stuff that was left over and donated it to a women's shelter. the rest of the shit went to bethesda thrift store. i've had trouble recovering from the mess though.

i got completely shitfaced on saturday night, staying up until 4:30 in the morning with some friends. thankfully they were there when the mouse trap thwacked so they could carry out the deceased. i'm chicken she-ot that way.

it's realy groovy though, i have an echo in my living room and i like it. it's empty like so many other parts of me.

sf and his pal in the belly of the garage

i just came by to clear some cobwebs and such. whats new, magoo? me? oh, i'm just fine. i finished my 18 credit semester in style. would you like to see the project i completed? here you go. what do you think? please don't tell me my baby is ugly! guh.

about nine years ago i began a process and i lost a lot of weight. it just happened. i was in a groove. now that i'm 40, i've been reflecting on all of the extra baggage i have clogging my serenity. it's hard to relax when your basement is packed with stuff from your garage.

so...i began the arduous task of detoxing my space from clutter and things that could disappear and i would never notice or miss them. i'm having this insanely huge sale of all of my stuff. i'm going through the house with a fine toothed comb. it was weird though.

i threw out all of the old report cards my parents kept for me. i threw out all of the photos from parties, college life and spring break. i threw out some photos of friends that i haven't spoken to in years. why keep them?

all of the lit papers i wrote in college? gone.

in purging the clutter, i reclaimed the small attic and made it into sf's secret lair. when i ventured on selling all of out stuffed companions, i was met with a resounding no(chipmunk style). now they're all lined up as if in a theatre watching the 13" Sponge Bob.

i found the Garfield comforter i bought with the money from 8th grade confirmation. i passed it on to the wee sprite after a fresh wash and now it is at home among the stuffing.

next week i'm having the sale of a lifetime. i feel so good. soon it will all be gone. all of those things i saved, the things i threw away, just aren't me anymore. let someone else be their guardian.

i feel so icky. just gross. the positive thing is that i'm finishing an 18 credit semester with a 4.0. so suck on that. in other departments, things just totally suck. summer is practically here and i just want to crawl into my own cave deep in the woods and tell everyone to fuck off. ahhhhhhh.

sf and i are having a battle of wills. he tests me at every turn. last night he decided he couldn't wait to have dinner so he grabbed this enormous food club bag of skittles and started chowing. when he refused to stop, i said fine, go ahead. enjoy those. you can eat all the skittles you want. in fact you can have fucking skittles for breakfast lunch and dinner. go right the fuck ahead.

this morning the nanny texted me and said he threw up all over. i didn't feel bad. honestly, i just want to jump on a plane and never look back. yes, i do mean to bitch because it has been hard. very hard at times being a single parent. and it outright sucks sometimes. so excuse me while i just scream loudly to myself and FUCK! FUCK! FUCKITY! FUCK! copiously.

piss off.

i have so many strange dreams and thoughts. i vacillate from thinking 'i should write that letter' to 'fuck it'. these feelings of fondness are usually sparked by tom petty songs. the longer you stay away from writing the harder it seems to be. like do i really want to write down what i'm feeling?

i feel attached in time to someone. i haven't spoken to this person in a very long time, but the feeling is always there. it's a fuzzy little creature living in the nether regions of my mind. upon waking i have remembrances of this 'thing' rooting around causing a disturbance or two. fighting with the locals. usually it leaves me with a glow. and then i think, am i nuts?

someone can send you a line or two and you can sense their warmth. they really have it. others are so removed and obscure that any attempt at connecting with you seems bizarre or contrived. what the fuck do they want? honestly, they need to come right out with it and not fuck around. no cryptic babble, please.

whatever.

baby, don't it feel like heaven right now? don't it feel like something from a dream? why yes it does and yes it is.

a dream.

i found a link to this article from Dana + Nate's. it's just what i needed after my venomous spew. sweet. new yorkers are so much cooler than wauhiscans. they'd call the keystones, believe me.

about the things i've been through, but what the hell. today i just feel like bitching and ranting about the dismal, rotten, raunchy, clique ridden place that wausau, wisconsin is. it has no down to earth sensibilities. it doesn't matter if you're a slob or a blob, it's who you know. why the sour grapes, mamma?

oh, i don't know. i'm here there and everywhere and the one thing that i know is that i will never fit in. that is O-K-A-Y. because i don't TRY to be different, i just am. i always have been. i was always the obnoxious, goofy gradeschooler. in high school i was the weird dresser. now i'm the non traditional student who could pass for traditional. wardrobe circa 1991.

WTF does it mean? pre mid life crisis? nervous breakdown? drug induced hallucination? everything about my life is non-traditional and i'm floundering in a sterile, wannabe a big town berg. the thing about real towns is that they change. everything here is the same year after year: oh, sure the stationary or the theme may change, but it's the same tinpins showboating their dominanace in the "art scene", the "publishing world" and charity events.

i wish the maggots would gag.

this is my cool peanut jack-knife that i received
from someone special, years ago. i still keep it
in my pocket or dangling from a belt loop.
you'd better not meet me in a dark alley...

can you hear the huge, hearty sigh echo from my lungs across the miles? i had my first job interview in twenty years. now, all i want to do is have a margarita. lots of them. i think it went alright and in all honesty, i'm honored to have gotten the interview in the first place. as soon as i was done, i changed my clothes and felt immediately better.

a part of me wonders if i can make it in the 90 degree angle world. i'm totally obtuse for the most part. i like it that way. still, i want to make buckets full of money and still be able to wear pigtails and not pointy shoes with heels. will i ever find that special place?

love, me

my little love in mexico, december 2008

"mommy, i want my cake to be half green and half purple and i want it to say 'happy birthday true and holden'". done. what a sweet kid. he is so sharing.


the cake couldn't have been any more adorable. that's my 1955 Roper range it's sitting on.


this is holden james...


patiently awaiting the signal to blow...


blow little feesh, blow!


love you, babe. can't believe you're already five. xoxo mommy

primal scream therapy.

I have to say, I'm pretty fricking pround of myself. I have six pages with rollovers for the links and it all works. When you roll over the links they change from a cream text with a drop shadow to a dark turquoise with an outer glow. Pretty spiffy, I must say. The logo at the top links back to the index page you see. The only thing I didn't do was physically take that photo. I'm sure I did this the Polish way, but it looks completely KICK ASS and I did it without any help from anyone. Damn, it's pretty.

You completely suck for canceling the best show on your network. I would be referring to "Life On Mars". Has there ever been a better cast on television? You had a Sunday Night HBO show and you flushed it. I hate you.

this is the mock up for a website i'm getting paid to design. not bad for a first timer, eh? i think it's pretty trick! you?

i study hard every single day. sometimes i equate it to working in a mental coal mine. i get done and i just want to be. just be. i leave it all behind. last night when i got home i was reminded that 'jason' the bachelor was down to two chicks. and the big drama of the previous bachelorette coming in to wreak havoc on his life was just too much for me. i am not a fan of the bachelor.

i honestly have no shame in calling them stupid twats. i don't care how MENSA they might be. i realize i relish in criticizing them from the comfort of my dark red leather and nail-head sofa. why is it that it's OK for the bachelor to have a kid and the potential concubines are forbidden? obviously women with kids are damaged goods.

and the bachelor? i know those nostrils have to be the home of crusty critters. i hope he carries a pocket mirror. the dude reminds me of a little ape. he is 'ape like.' i think it's a huge sign of desperation and how ridiculously we cling to the notion of the romantic love fairy tale. i feel sorry for his kid.

yes, it sucks to be alone, jason. i know the feeling. but i'm also not going to sell myself out and pick someone out just for the sake of 'not being alone.' the world is a huge place and i'll never send the message to my kid that you need someone to 'complete you.' it's a nice idea, but gag me. grow a pair.

moving on to much deeper drama, the season finale of the deep 'true beauty' was on afterwards. it's all about what's on the inside. this show is the brainchild of none other than ashton kucher, who just has to be one of the deepest people, EVER. one of the judges was the waifish cheryl tiegs, who at times was overwhelmed with the choices she had to make. visibly shaken, when she spoke, i think it was obvious her plastic surgery affected her speech. i think she and michael jackson share the same doctor.

vanessa manillo, former TRL host was another judge who i thought might let her lady parts get the best of her. although she claimed inner beauty was key, you could tell that she had a thing for old turd head ass face, Joel. that guy. that crazy guy. he is completely ignorant of his lack of humility. i think he and ashton will become great friends. ashton's mom even said that joel's relationship with his mom reminded her of her own with ashton. that is so fricking heartwarming!

the voice of reason came from fashion expert, nolin marin. he knows what's pretty and has that super keen gay man sensitivity to superficiality. and he can smell bitch from a mile away.

in the end, i was happy they chose julia. honestly, i never remember her saying anything horrid or scathing. she was genuinely sweet, took risks and wasn't a backstabbing f-wad. she'll be included in people magazine's 100 most beautiful people issue. and even though joel didn't win, he'd be an awesome model for soldier of fortune or instinct magazine. joel, you'll always be a winner in your book. that's what counts anyway.

looks good from the neck up

This was almost exactly one year ago...

I know...I haven't got out much lately



But it just snowed the night before last and it looked just like this:

yesterday morning. I had to get out Big Red, my trusty snow steed.

i really love being in school. i always wanted to be an acedemic. back in the day, i imagined myself the college lit professor, but when big daddy wouldn't help me with my finances, i gave up. what a wuss i was. but now i'm BACK. back in the new york groove.

i enjoy every single thing i'm learning and although it's time consuming, it's not like work at all. it's fun. and that's what your work should be, right kittens?

Getmooh is an automated call back service. It is designed to help you escape a variety of situations by calling you automatically on your phone at a pre-specified time and playing you a recording which will either instruct you on what to say to elude your tormentor(s), or which will simply give a convincing sense of you being on an important call. Just put in your phone number and schedule the day and time to receive the call.

ahead of me is balding, flannel shirt, bowling jacket, beer belly with no wedding ring. i'm staring into the basket: two cans of dinty moore beef stew, two packets of hillshire farms 'little smokies', one six pack of miller lite in cans and one 'smart ones' frozen dinner. i mean, why bother?

The Astrological birth sign of Pisces (February 19 - March 20)is usually associated with being extremely creative, sensitive, and artistic, and as having a healthy fascination with the metaphysical and spiritual.

Pisces are the most intuitive and spiritually developed of the zodiac birth signs. Aptly called "old souls", Pisces thirst for spiritual knowledge and personal growth. They are the twelfth, and last, of the Zodiac signs, and as such, tend to have a more finely tuned intuition, sixth sense or extrasensory ability to perceive others feelings.

I spent Sunday afternoon grossing myself out by watching "Eaten Alive" on Animal Planet. It was so disgusting I couldn't look away. All I know is I never want a female bot fly to bite me, leaving one of her eggs to grow a freaky worm under my skin. Or to get a tapeworn and have hundreds of cysts incubating in my brain causing what the typical doctor around here would most likely diagnose as a simple 'migraine'. It made me thankful that I didn't have a penis so that the dreaded candiru couldn't swim up my urethra. I've got to remember to be thankful for the little things.

...one of sf's favorite phrases is "a-double-s". he'd say things like, "what do you want a big cup of (a-double-s) or something?" or "let me talk about a-double-s's)" or the classic "you look like a (a-double-s) head". i finally had to break down and tell him that YES! you know how to spell a word and what the word he spelled meant. now he only uses it for effect or when we're in public. what a guy.

...for his master to return from the surf. or is that snow?

I cannot stand people that won't put in the work, the time, the effort. Like people who want something from you and whine about not getting it when they don't put in the effort to make you want to do what they want. And then they put the guilt trip on you. "F" them. Know what I mean?

I'm glad that I can handle being a loner. I have my fits of mini-despression and poor me, but then I get over it. There are times I wonder if I shouldn't just take a little pill, but then I think I don't want to be labeled. I put enough labels on myself. The feeling passes and I go on. I can't afford to wallow in it. I have way too much shit going on.

As far as my birthday is concerned, I feel like I have been ripening on the vine. A late bloomer. I appreciate things so much more now than when I was in my 20's. I know I wouldn't have been as good of a single mother. I know what is important and what's not.

In some ways, I feel like a kid again. I have my whole life ahead of me. And no one is going to stop me.

Would anybody like a 2009 Marshfield Clinic Fine Art Calendar featuring my work in the month of August? Yes, you'll get all 12 months, including my month!

I put a request out there for a musician to create an original score for my film. Of course, I can't pay you anything, but you will get credits and a copy or two of the film, I wrote. Within an hour, I received a response from someone. He sent me links to samples and HOLY SHIT! He is incredible! Did I mention his work sounds like something David Lynch would use?! YES!

I'm scared though.

I pitched my idea to him and I don't know what he'll think. I think it's hilarious, but he might be all about the seriousness of things. My mantra for today is: YOU'LL NEVER KNOW UNLESS YOU PUT IT OUT THERE.