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.

i am so excited! it took me a week but i've come up with a killa idea for my film. in addition, my extremely good looking friends have decided to help me out and be my STARS! let me just say, it's a twisty remake of Rosemary's Baby. i bust out laughing everytime i think of the final scene. stay tuned...

it's about 6:30 pm and in a few moments i will be leaving the lab. the la-bor-a-tor-eee. my second home. i'd go to the Y-M-C-A, but i'm too lazy to rush home, get my kit and leave right away. sf is at the padres so i'm thinking that it is a ME night after 8.5 hours of straight work. i am exhilarated and exhausted all at once. time for vino. L'Chaim, amigos!

school, yes my school has been closed for two days because of the bitterly cold temperature. this really sucks because i use their gear for everything. there is a bright spot though. their server works better on my mac than in the school. how f-ed is that?

i feel good. nah-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah, so good. i'm gonna read 60 frickin' pages of "Visual Basic 2005: An Object Oriented Approach". i'm calm. i went to the Y-M-C-A and then took a shower. i smell all pink grapefruity shea butterish. i smell so good in fact, i want to hug myself. maybe i'll make a date with myself later.

the sun is shining brightly but it's deathly cold. the other night some guy sleepwalked out of his house and froze to death. school was canceled today. i feel like i have a fog hanging over me due to pinot evil. oy.

my parents called me and said someone left a message on the machine at work "thanking me for everything i had done for them". i was like, wtf, half giggling. in any case, it made my day. i recorded the message to my phone. i think someone is trying to send me a message.

clean the bathrooms.

and write everyday. so my plan is to jot something down here just to keep my sanity. this morning i made some java in the senseo so i didn't have to buy any. it's tasty. i also ate a peanut butter crunch clif bar. i feel pretty good as i contemplate opening up powerpoint for the first time. ah, the computer lab, my second home. i love my bathtub. i enjoyed my bath this morning. the smell of honey, i washed the kids and the charity pot. that's me. ooooo. i forgot! my patchouli is in! must pick up! stinky, stinky.

Dear Diary-

WTF was I thinking when I decided to man up to 18 credits of educational challenge? Not only am I swimming in the graphical sea and crawling around the web(all the while chewing on a big thick book about Visual Basic), I have to make a real movie from conception to release. It has to be at least three minutes in length. I definitely don't want to edit baby video. Or put together some mellodramatic bucket of serendipitous memories. Do I go off the deep end and make some ode to David Lynch, with my own secret meaning? Or do I stick to what I know and make a good old fashioned schtick about a girl and her snowblower...

This is the malm bed I scored on my maiden voyage to ikea. Originally I was set up to buy the queen in a deep brownish black at full price(199 + 60 for slats + 10 for the midbeam). Lucky me. On the way to the check out I spied the as-is section and found the same bed in birch veneer for only $79!( The damage is so minute and not visible I couldn't pass it up since I'm mega pobrecita). I felt a wave of relief sweep over me as I knew I wouldn't break the bank on this. It was a match made in heaven and Poland. No wonder I love this bed. It was a cinch for one person to set up and it sleeps as good as it looks. I feel so grown up by going up 5" up off the floor!

*they both have big mouths

I am a frustrated single parent that wonders what the fuck I'm doing. I am a full time student with nary an existence of a social life. Part of this is me feeling sorry for myself. I do and I bawl about it sometimes. My immediate family is tiny and my brother and I share a birthday and we don't get along. I feel like I don't share anything real with him. When I talk to him it's like talking to a Freud like creature that withholds his own opinions yet absorbs mine silently like a sponge.

My 40th birthday is coming along very 'soonly' and I don't know what to do. Fuck. I am not close to anyone. It's not a very good feeling. I suppose I made it this way. I take responsibility for my part. And now I pay the price. Silence is requested from the peanut gallery.

winter is here

an homage to the extremely unique il signor panza. i hope he doesn't mind. can you hear wagner's "Ride of the Valkyries" playing in the background?

younger than she looks

i can't effing stand it anymore. since the very first day of school i've noticed this skeezy, greasy over 50 creepy dude that hacks like he smokes a carton of Lucky's a day. i can hear him no matter where he sits. earlier, i heard him rip one. does he think people won't notice because HE'S wearing headphones?!

lately he's been bringing in plastic bags of worm ridden deer apples. today was my lucky day because right now he's sitting right next to me, wheezing and snotting and snorting away. once in a while he glances over at me and i want to gag. whoa! good fortune! he just left!

i better wait to leave though. you know, so he doesn't think i'm following him.

The other day I was at Penzoil getting my oil changed. As I sat in the grimey waiting room reading the obituaries of people dead already a week ago(their most recent paper was a week old), I honed in on their ages: 60, 73, 84. All of these words summing up a lifetime in "paid for paragraphs."

In our little metropolis, they run the court records and police logs but make you pay for an obit that lists anything more than survivors and service times. I am going to be fourty in few months. 60 is only twenty years from now. I am going to die someday. I will not be here. I am going to die and life will go on. It's just so hard to fathom not seeing what happens with my little love.

If I die when I'm I'm 60, half of my life is already over. How should we live our lives so that we have no regrets, so that we dwell in the importance of the here and now and not the when's or what if's?

but you can't steal the election! a$$heads stole my signs AGAIN! I have never felt so happy, hopeful or as invigorated as I did watching Barack Obama speak to over 125,000 people live in Chi-town last night. Steal my signs, weiners because I am crushing your heads.

I don't know why I do the things I do sometimes. Lately I've been thinking about flesh, naked skin on skin...no faces just sensations. This led me to put something "out there" but I don't really want a date. Impulsive or randy? I can't decide.

I think I'd much rather prefer a stranger in the night scenario. Whatever the reason for my madness, I vascillate between ripping it down, leaving it up or just going to the sex shoppe(yeah, as in ye olde). WTF. I think there is a very strong urge to break my five year dry spell but like I've said before, I don't want anyone to see me naked.

Therefore, I suppose I need to add a few details as to what I'm looking for like "must be legally blind" or "must meet in total darkness" or "must wear a blindfold." Ugh. Or maybe I should just banish the thought from my mind entirely and become like Morrissey who once said "I'm inches away from a monastary."

I heard some finaggling in the front yard a few minutes ago. I had a suspicion. Looking out from my cozy 1.5 story roost I knew immediately it was gone. I called the non-emergency number and reported it. Someone uphill had theirs stolen, too. So this is just a big eff you to the shitwad that stole my ginormous 4' x 6' Obama sign. Dickheads. How very Maverick of you. As SF would say, woozer.

FAQS

1.) i bought a cool 1950's Roper stove. i spent $100 and two cans of easy off polishing and primping it only to find out i can't get the friggin' oven pilot light to fire up.

2.) it's reaaaalllllly gorgeous though. we make lots of tea and pasta.

3.) i'm getting all A's(yeah, that's 14 credits worth). does it matter if it's a teKnical college?

4.) my mom outbid someone on the cello and won it so it can stay in the fam.

5.) snowflake is going to be a monkey for halloween.

6.) he should go as a sea monkey because of his natural love of the agua.

7.) i am vowing not to turn the heat up for winter.

8.) i don't get out much and when i do, well... it ain't pretty.

9.) older dudes never let you pay for a drink and i dig that.

10.) i'm not into going out. i have one big hurrah and then i realize, nah.

11.) i don't want to shovel snow or blow it.

12.) ditto the frozen dog turds of winter, but i will, my friend, yes, i will.

cool cat


gets krazy wheels

needs more than an Ancient Chinese Secret

On Sunday, SF and I found these adroable bambinos penned up by the side of the road. He didn't have to convince me to stop. Damn, they were cute. These are the babes chocolate milk will come from. They were so sweet I wanted to gobble them right up, but not in a Sizzler kind of way, you know. Total cuteness.

I found this student art project in pieces in the dumpster by the university art dept. this past spring. I thought, COOL! outdoor sculpture. Constructed of grocery store bouncy balls, Plaster of Paris and gauze, the creature was painted the color of Kraft macaroni and cheese powder. Well, after 11 rolls of duct tape I wasn't as enthusiastic. SF enjoyed riding his creature in the backyard all summer. I decided it would be a good idea get rid of it before it decayed through the winter and became a 300lb mess in the spring.



My friend helped me haul it to the curb and just then, the neighbors across the street came home and their little boy came over.

"Where did you get that?" he asked.

"Out of the dumpster at the UW."

"Why would you go in a dumpster? What is it?"

"It's a creature."

"What do you call it?"

"Why don't you name it?"(Ahhhh! Now I recall SF called this "strawberry")

"How about Bob?"

"Sounds good."

The next morning when SF woke up he said, "I have to check and see if Bob is still there"...patter, patter, patter..."Mommy! He's still there. He must be meant to be ours!"

Around lunchtime I received a text saying a Jeep full of hysterically laughing hospital workers picked him up. They were laughing so hard they couldn't speak but got enough out to say it was for a prank. Off he goes in a car full of chicks.

Bon voyage, Bob and Happy Trails!

About dot com says this about yellow:

Yellow is sunshine. It is a warm color that, like red, has conflicting symbolism. On the one hand it denotes happiness and joy but on the other hand yellow is the color of cowardice and deceit.

I've calmed down since this morning's hellacious beginning. Can you remember the tale of the pissboy? Well, he's back. And I'm pissed. Really, don't laugh.

Last night I made SF go upstairs for a timeout. I didn't think anything of it. This morning after feeling all shower clean and refreshed I picked up one of my favorite t's off of the a really cool old, dear to my heart retro chair(it was blue velvet woodgrain) in my bedroom only to find it mysteriously wet. Even more mysterious was that what was laying on top of it was dry. Hmm...

I figured it out fast with a quick sniff. The little shit peed all over my chair last night because I sent him upstairs for a timeout! ARGH! But even more devious was the fact that he lifted clothes up and sprayed beneath them to hide his sinister purposeful bathroom break. WTF.

I hauled the chair to the curb. When I came back in the house, Charlie had peed on the floor because I didn't let him out first(I was mad, but I can handle MY mistake for not letting an old dog out soon enough). The pissboy? I'm thinking of crating him.

I just got a call from an organization that is going to use one of my images for their 2009 calendar! It's distributed state wide. Whoo hooo!!!


It's this one, Dot!

I'm sitting here in this time capsule of a library(circa 1950) and my cell rings, LOUD. I forgot to shut it off and I'm fumbling. I accidentally hit speaker phone and then voice commands. "say a comand" BEEP "say a command" BEEP

I looked up the number via goog and here it was the man I took that crazy cute photo of with his dog. I walked out of the library and called him.

He thanked me and said he just loved them. I told him if he wanted more, just to call(I gave him 15 4" x 6" prints). He couldn't believe how nice they were because it was so misty out. He said he had enough for his Christmas cards. I melted.

I walked back into the library with a smile on my face as if were in love, floating back to this spot and its Computer Hardware Fundamentals drudgery. I'm still smiling though.

Lately, in my spare time random day dream blips, I find my mind wandering towards thoughts of dental floss and chicken wings. I've been obsessing, really. It blows my mind to think about the millions of chickens slaughtered everyday. Then I think of their clipped wings. The billions and billions of wings severed for people who never give a second thought to what they're eating other than if it comes with free celery. Gross.

Thankfully I haven't had to floss any chicken meat out of my teeth in almost a decade. Floss. I'm a hardcore flosser. I have to floss at least two times a day. I used to think nothing of throwing strand after strand of floss down the toilet. Thinking about how much floss I've already used and discarded down the drain, I wondered where does it end up? Are ducks getting twined up in fish line floss and succumbing to their deaths? And wouldn't it be disgusting to go swimming and end up with a piece of floss in your hair or mouth? Worse if it came out of the faucet. I decided not to flush it anymore.

It's probably no better to throw it in the garbage where five years from now, some raccoon will choke on it at some landfill or a baby bird gets it wrapped around its wing and can't fly. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that it's highly biodegradable. Gag me.

I spent the entire day working on this weeks html assignment concerning *tables*. OMG. After staring at the same fricking lines and doing the same things over and over with them NOT working, it somehow all came magically together. I was ready to puke when the lightbulb burst in my head and the mystical sea of knowledge spilled forth causing a serious urge for booze. If i still smoked, I would have had a Marb.

Instead, I went home.

When I walked in the door, my Darling Dearest greeted me with:

"Mommy! You look so cute today!" (he didn't see me this morning before I left for school as he stayed at his g-padres)

The tension lifted as he gave me one of his fabulous monkey hugs. What a good day, indeed.

On my way home from class last night I saw a little old man walking his dog in the rain. As I drove by, I saw him smile at a female passerby as he crossed a beauty salon parking lot. I felt I had to go around the block and approach him.

Pulling up along the sidewalk I sprang out of my car and said,"Excuse me. sir? Could I take your photo with your dog? I'd have some prints made for you. I saw the two of you and thought it was so adorable how you were taking your dog for a walk."

"I suppose you could" he smiled and continued, "I shouldn't have taken her out in the rain."

She was sopped, but happy and spunky. I told him it looked like she was enjoying herself. I asked him his name and address. "What's your dog's name?"

He paused, under his breath he murmured, "oh, what do we call her..." He took a few seconds and said "Bear".

I went back and grabbed my camera and snapped three quick shots. I gave him my card and thanked him again. I got a kiss from the dog. Getting back in my car I watched them disappear slowly up the incline of the sidewalk in the misty drizzle. Bear sat down for the journey home. His smile was so warm, exuding kindness and gentleness. I'm so happy I went back for that moment.


Orville and Bear


Bear at the helm

sf: can i have some 50/50?

me: no, we're not having any pizza.

time passes, i have a few glasses of wine after dinner

SF: can i have some 50/50? (cuddling)

me: well i suppose.(big monkey hug + smiles + kisses = feeling the toddler-squishey-chipmonk voice LOVE)

SF: hey, why are you letting me have 50/50?

me, glowing and warm, fuzzy, but real: because i'm being lenient.

SF: no, i think it's because you're being niiiiiccccce.(BIG HUG)

and i bust out laughing. SF too.

a funny thing happened when i got home from school on friday... some of you may already know because you're my friend and SF's nanny. or you may know because i called you. you could know because i stopped by. or maybe it was just a simple shout-out on facebook.

in any case, i was completely stunned when i got home from school to find a check from a gallery that is host to a national show. one of my framed prints sold for $1400. can i take the liberty of rounding up from $1366? i've been walking on sunshine ever since. i can't bring myself to deposit it just yet. i like to look at it. and since i'm prone to spending disposable income on things like keens and botox, i think i'll just hang on to it for a while.

-signed the 'arteest' formerly known as msmamma

last weekend i hung out on the roof of my parents boat house. my mom bought my dad a meade telescope and for years it sat unopened in their basement. apparently i was the anointed telescope erector. i can get really, really feisty when it comes to getting things like this put together. i had to mount and remount a few times before i realized i just had to pull down really hard to get to zero degrees. fvck.

once together i put it down on the boathouse roof and scanned the shoreline. i could see people's faces so cleary, if i knew WHO they were, i'd know them. leave my wandering eye to find a dude halfway across the lake whipping it out and watering the flowers. seriously, i think i could have counted his pubes one by one.

my last night there my mom and i sat and drank wine and looked at the stars with a blustering wind flowing through the night that only meant summer was over. looking up at the stars i felt chilled and invigorated and small but strong. each little star hanging its twinkling calling card out in the night for anyone anywhere to see like neon signs across the galaxy. we were here they said. we are here i answered.

The seamonster emerges, crabby


falling right out of the faucet into the warm bubbling pool,

as the naked nymph stands guard.

Water makes him happy.


He thanks the spirits in his own way


loving the aqueous and ephemeral

even though he doesn't know it yet.

last night when i got home from school i walked in to find this:

okay! i took this picture after because i forgot




it was a complete and utterly sweet surprise from my mama-san. not only did she buy me flowers and wine, the table was set and her famous corn chowder was bubbling away on my stove. mmm...it smelled so de-lish! it was accompanied by a salad and crusty baguettes. she didn't stop there though, she also changed my sheets(put on my fave sock monkey ones) and washed the others.

she didn't stick around to be thanked though. i called her to tell her just how wonderful it was and how special she is. thanks, mom. XOXO

that's all.

Apparently yesterday was National Dog Day. In this shot you're looking at Ginger and Frank, not yet tailgating as they wait for something to fall out of Charlie's ass. To them it's snack time, to me it's disgusting. Here's to you, ass-lickers! My life just wouldn't be as aromatic without you. xo

After nine straight hours of intense studying, I stopped at the store on my way home to pick up some din-din for SF and me. Fresh tomatoes(grown by SF) and cheese on baguettes with a side of redbox. Tonight's age appropriate, staight to video selection was "Frank". Awesome, I thought as I stared at the photo of what looked like a geriatric pug on the disc. Turns out, Frank is an uncared for, rough and tumble, wandering Mastiff, often mistaken for "The Creature", a mysterious beast who eats out of garbage cans and hangs in the local cemetery.

With all of its manipulative twists and turns culminating in a completely milked climax (combined with a rad case of PMS), I was bawling. And not just because Garrett Morris played Animal Control. OMG. Chocolate, please. If by chance Frank the Movie finds you, you'll love the dog and the idyllic vacation home owned by out of towners. SF loved it. In fact, he's watching it again. I'll be over here with a glass of cab taking deep breaths. xo

i drop the cello off at the Conservatory. they asked us what to place the starting bid at. do i go low so i can bid on it and actually, maybe win it?!

Last night we were in the bathroom getting ready to brush teeth when SF tells me to "hang on a second, I need to get situated." I had to laugh. I'm getting situated, plunking along, delving into HTML and FLASH and Information Security. I'm the only chick in that last one. Today I have "computer hardware fundamentals". I'm sure it will be a laugh riot! Honestly, I'm digging the academic life. In my younger days, after my BA, I had dreams of attaining a phD and teaching college. I thought maybe I'd teach an entire class on Flannery O'Connor. I still think a good man is hard to find.

me with mello cello


my uncle, who wired it up for me

I'm so happy. I finally completed the project I've been working on for most of the summer. I meticulously sanded an unplayable cello. It was music in itself as I wheeled my Bosch orbital all over its tired body. I wish I would have recorded the sound. After cutting out the template I drew for the face(and tons more sanding), I rejuvenated the old boy by staining him three different colors(and sanding). I finished off with about 20 layers of piano lacquer(and MORE sanding!). The colored inserts in the orifices are from those translucent velum-like Chinese take out boxes. I have two bulbs wired in the base to light it up. It's so totally gorgeous that I really want to keep it.

MY cello, along with a few violins, a couple of guitars and some cases were donated to local artists who agreed to take their time and talent and turn them into something fabulous for a charity auction(Wausau Conservatory of Music). I will be bidding on this or force my parents to. Then again, maybe there will be a heinous slip and fall, a tragic accident that renders Mello: MIA. Hmm...

hummingbird at rest

june 2007

i miss this age.

My damn Honda lawnmower wouldn't start the other day. It just pissed me off. Like for no good reason after seven years, it just wouldn't turn over. Fucker. It wasn't the spark plug and I've yet to take it in to be fixed. I borrowed the neighbors and after hitting a hidden stump and nearly destroying it, I returned it, full of gas, still in one piece.

I'm one of those "risk your eyes for mowing" lawnmowers. I live dangerously by trying to get really close to clip things that I shouldn't. I've seen sparks fly off of stone and once decapitated a bunny(unknowingly).

I noticed my mom and dad had an old fashioned reel mower in their garage up north. They gave it to me and I put in in the back of the gas pig for the trip home. Last night I whipped 'er out and sliced and diced the lawn in pure silence. Well, it actually sounds like knife sharpening or something I vaguely remember from Hellraiser.

It's therapeutic. But then my neighbor decided to mow and broke the contemplative rhythm of the whirl. SF was chomping at the bit to get a good turn. I wonder how long his enthusiasm will stay fresh. Chop. Chop.

driving in my car, summertime and hot in 5pm traffic. listening to the song 'summerland' by everclear. there's a guy waiting at the lights to cross. white button down shirt, black pants, long hair in a pony with a goatee carrying a cup of java to go. i think he looks cute, interesting even, but then think, probably doesn't even have a driver's license.

i saw a dear friend a few weekends ago for the first time in over four years. she looked taut, wiry, thin and there was a hysteria hiding behind her eyes. she raised two gorgeous children, alone for 15 years. she mentions in a flashing spark that she dated the most amazing man, her soulmate, she called him and continued on about something else. i went back to it. tell me more about this amazing man, i said.

her eyes started on fire and light oozed from every pore of her being as she told the story about how she met him. she was friends with his brother and they knew eachother as kids. it was an amazing romance involving much swooning, deep breaths, sighing and for real courting. their dates were like some crazy romance novel. well, i said, what happened...

he died in august. i can see the light leave her face. it is still so shockingly unreal that i can see her grasping to just hang on to this moment. as she tells me the details, i start to cry. it was a horrid job site accident and he was crushed by an i-beam. his organs were harvested. it was just so awful and wonderful. all of it. i asked her if she had anything of his. she is still so very in love with him.

she begins to tell me about how he despised tattoos. she did too. yet, she pulls down the neckline of her tank and reveals a tiny, tiny red heart with a crack it. upon closer examination i see the crack is the first letter of his name. does it get any worse than this? will it get any better?

i picked up some crab rangoon for snowflake. as i was driving up the hill a few blocks from my house, i do believe i saw his father. i drove past him and didn't look back. i will never look back.

You know it's a damn wicked strong brew when your pee smells like fresh Pike's Place Roast. Thanks Starbucks. And thanks for wiring me up like a crazed chicken. Four hours later.