under the cover of night we are about to head off to the airport to pick up our weary travellers. hmmm, wonder if andy brought them a kit-kat while they were stopped over in the san jose airport. they'll be here any minute now, any second, any millsecond. eee!
today at work we were talking about tron. the people i work with come in a wide variety of ages, and so i posed the infamouse paula question: "who is older... you or tron?" it's one of those things that created a chasm of cultural divide. being on the older-than-tron side of things (which is from 1983, in case you were wondering) also led me to remember other things that i am older than in pop culture.
hair mousse
hypercolor shirts
squiggy
yes, the list could go on forever, especially from a kitsch queen such as myself. or is that liz? she ALWAYS seems to recall the random tidbits about who was what was oh my god holy shit really in what was going on. next time we're together, i'll have to challenge her and rhiannon to a useless fact marathon. fuck jeopardy. i want to enter the world series of pop culture with those two on my team. it's only fair that one day all this trivia should pay off for us.
the next phrase you should google:
99 words for boobs
21 June 2007
20 June 2007
v+t = happiness, or andy summers is bringing up the rear
no no no, it is NOT yet another post about a concert i saw sooooooo long ago. on the other hand, how could i leave out a member of the not-holy trinity in naming my posts? besides, he was wearing an "oh my god they killed kenny!" guitar strap during the show that made him simply adorable. and yes, he still totally rocks like a hurricane.
i don't think he's from this planet.
is it wednesday yet? is it?!? that's when veronica and travis are coming to visit! i've been waiting what seems like ages for this. right after the police countdown ended, the veronica countdown began. jeez, we do have an awful lot of excitement in this house lately. what are we going to do when july comes and there's nothing to look forward to anymore? woe to me and my need for upcoming events.
i'll have to bribe someone else to come and visit. there are at least a few of you out there who like small spaces, lots of cats, and 60 degree weather in june. we already know you love me and derek. we're good people with a tiny flippy couch for you to sleep on and we always keep good lotion around the house. since getting my magic haircut i've been learning how to cook some more; promise you won't throw up or anything. how's that for tempting?
we luckily have some tickets to do free stuff and i'm so very excited about just getting to hang out and be cool. that's most of what having my peeps coming to visit is about to me. we've had a feng shui attack on the house... as if she's never seen our place in total havoc. i'm taking off the rest of the week once they get here so that pesky work thing won't get in the way. maybe we can force derek to take lots of goofy photos. there is definitely a trip to target in the works. of course you know that shopping for socks and kleenex with vee counts as sightseeing in my book.
george's tip of the day:
don't ever have just prunes and coffee for breakfast. they'll cut into your work day like nobody's business.
i don't think he's from this planet.
is it wednesday yet? is it?!? that's when veronica and travis are coming to visit! i've been waiting what seems like ages for this. right after the police countdown ended, the veronica countdown began. jeez, we do have an awful lot of excitement in this house lately. what are we going to do when july comes and there's nothing to look forward to anymore? woe to me and my need for upcoming events.
i'll have to bribe someone else to come and visit. there are at least a few of you out there who like small spaces, lots of cats, and 60 degree weather in june. we already know you love me and derek. we're good people with a tiny flippy couch for you to sleep on and we always keep good lotion around the house. since getting my magic haircut i've been learning how to cook some more; promise you won't throw up or anything. how's that for tempting?
we luckily have some tickets to do free stuff and i'm so very excited about just getting to hang out and be cool. that's most of what having my peeps coming to visit is about to me. we've had a feng shui attack on the house... as if she's never seen our place in total havoc. i'm taking off the rest of the week once they get here so that pesky work thing won't get in the way. maybe we can force derek to take lots of goofy photos. there is definitely a trip to target in the works. of course you know that shopping for socks and kleenex with vee counts as sightseeing in my book.
george's tip of the day:
don't ever have just prunes and coffee for breakfast. they'll cut into your work day like nobody's business.
11 June 2007
that's my soul up there... or, sting is a floppy twat
another brief police note:
in honor of derek, let it be said that sting is a jazzy artfag. he is the kind of musician that takes lemons and makes a marmalade chock full of zest. during the show this week, we were ready for some rockin' when it came to some of the police's most famous songs. i'm all for improvisation and updating, but there were a few things that could've been more interesting. the most hurtful one for derek was the strangest fucking version of "roxanne" in the world, that you can probably google or youtube at your leisure. if memory serves me, derek's spleen began to cry about halfway through the neverending masturbation of sound that was the so-called update. let's all take a moment and bow our heads to derek's innards and their pain.
oh, and sting flounces around like an eight year old girl. who is high on halloween candy. and wearing a bright pink tutu for her first dance recital. just so you know. sex appeal is a very bizarre thing. really.... flounced. like, all fluffy like and stuff. that man shakes his hips like a sex trade prostitute who would suck a dick just for a bazooka joe comic.
now that your disturbing mental images are hurting you on the inside, i can tell about the absolute nuttiest formula one race that we watched today. this year's canadian grand prix! while i'm pretty sure i wouldn't be ruining anything for anyone i know, it would be rude to bore you with all the details. what i can say is that the snooze-o-rama that was monte carlo has been redeemed in spades. we're fairly giddy with anticipation to see what happens next.
on the real estate front, we had a productive fact-finding mission today. we only ran away screaming like banshees on fire about... fifty times so far. ahh yes. isn't it fun to look for a place to live that you can call your own? of course, once you find that perfect hovel, you can then commence all the worrying that goes with it about wall colors and insurance and whether or not you're in the ghetto and no one told you. how i look forward to fretting for no apparent reason about why we don't have a garden hose. (perhaps because we've been apartment living it for most of our adult lives?) and who knows how i've lived this long without obsessing over a billion mortgage details. is this fun or what? no wonder some people would rather hop couches and keep all their stuff in a storage locker.
nevertheless, there are a few front runners - mostly in figuring out what we're looking for in a home - amongst what we've seen and some parameters have most assuredly been defined. ever notice how it's sometimes easier to figure out what you DON'T want before you can figure out what you really do want? go ahead. ask me what i want. uhhhhhh... duhhhhhhhh... hmmmmm.... welll.... lemme think about it. now ask me what i don't want. doubtful you'd have time for that conversation. i wish i knew why it works that way.
if you can explain that one, maybe you can clue me in as to why my new haircut is giving me superspowers. i can cook! i'm way funnier! i can be decisive! i want to be active and eat better food! i'm a teensy bit motivated! i feel so much more like me again! let's hold off "sixth grade self" for as long as possible, shall we? she's been bumming me out with all her confusion and whining. and let's definitely not invite her the next time we have a party. le sigh. we should all be so lucky to get magic haircuts.
random fact about me:
i hate toenails. they're yucky and odd. eww.
in honor of derek, let it be said that sting is a jazzy artfag. he is the kind of musician that takes lemons and makes a marmalade chock full of zest. during the show this week, we were ready for some rockin' when it came to some of the police's most famous songs. i'm all for improvisation and updating, but there were a few things that could've been more interesting. the most hurtful one for derek was the strangest fucking version of "roxanne" in the world, that you can probably google or youtube at your leisure. if memory serves me, derek's spleen began to cry about halfway through the neverending masturbation of sound that was the so-called update. let's all take a moment and bow our heads to derek's innards and their pain.
oh, and sting flounces around like an eight year old girl. who is high on halloween candy. and wearing a bright pink tutu for her first dance recital. just so you know. sex appeal is a very bizarre thing. really.... flounced. like, all fluffy like and stuff. that man shakes his hips like a sex trade prostitute who would suck a dick just for a bazooka joe comic.
now that your disturbing mental images are hurting you on the inside, i can tell about the absolute nuttiest formula one race that we watched today. this year's canadian grand prix! while i'm pretty sure i wouldn't be ruining anything for anyone i know, it would be rude to bore you with all the details. what i can say is that the snooze-o-rama that was monte carlo has been redeemed in spades. we're fairly giddy with anticipation to see what happens next.
on the real estate front, we had a productive fact-finding mission today. we only ran away screaming like banshees on fire about... fifty times so far. ahh yes. isn't it fun to look for a place to live that you can call your own? of course, once you find that perfect hovel, you can then commence all the worrying that goes with it about wall colors and insurance and whether or not you're in the ghetto and no one told you. how i look forward to fretting for no apparent reason about why we don't have a garden hose. (perhaps because we've been apartment living it for most of our adult lives?) and who knows how i've lived this long without obsessing over a billion mortgage details. is this fun or what? no wonder some people would rather hop couches and keep all their stuff in a storage locker.
nevertheless, there are a few front runners - mostly in figuring out what we're looking for in a home - amongst what we've seen and some parameters have most assuredly been defined. ever notice how it's sometimes easier to figure out what you DON'T want before you can figure out what you really do want? go ahead. ask me what i want. uhhhhhh... duhhhhhhhh... hmmmmm.... welll.... lemme think about it. now ask me what i don't want. doubtful you'd have time for that conversation. i wish i knew why it works that way.
if you can explain that one, maybe you can clue me in as to why my new haircut is giving me superspowers. i can cook! i'm way funnier! i can be decisive! i want to be active and eat better food! i'm a teensy bit motivated! i feel so much more like me again! let's hold off "sixth grade self" for as long as possible, shall we? she's been bumming me out with all her confusion and whining. and let's definitely not invite her the next time we have a party. le sigh. we should all be so lucky to get magic haircuts.
random fact about me:
i hate toenails. they're yucky and odd. eww.
09 June 2007
the week that fizzes... or, let's all welcome stewart copeland to catholic drumming mass
okay, so i know you've all been waiting for the reviews of my exciting week. between the police and laurie and deciding what to eat or wear each day, i am expectedly all kerfuffled. we're going out to do some more real estate time tomorrow as well. it's all so dizzying.
about the police:
all i can say is, i had a freaking great time. the fancy party before the show had an open bar and foofoo stuff to eat. i had salmon rolls with caviar and prime rib for dinner. and oh, the fancy cheeses! let's just say that i'm not afraid to make a pig of myself in public. the party also had a special washroom not open to anyone else, because important people need and important toilet. they gave us little doodads that were "special VIP gifts" including a leather case and big gaudy badges. yes, i have taken it off since the show without even sleeping in it, in case you were wondering.
we made our way into the arena for the show after all that food and drink. so how were the police? they've been completely de-icon-ized for me, and the tour must be very humanizing for them. hey julie, remember giving me notes like "don't warm up on stage" when you were directing me? I GET IT NOW. in spite of that, they were a hoot to watch, and stewart was the main attraction. he did a lot of sprinting between a billion percussion instruments and looked like he was having the time of his life! there was so much standing and sitting going on that i was just waiting for him to pull out kneepads and incense while doing a drive-by transubstantiation. the flubs and oddities were met with a sense of humour by the band to the point of being endearing. which is not quite as coolly hilarious as a highly anticipated fistfight involving three guys heading for hip replacements would have been, but fucking fantabulous nonetheless.
sting's son and his peeps (sting's son singing and on bass, a squinty guy on guitar, and a flailing drummer - sound familiar?) opened for the police. they actually weren't bad at all. their band is called fiction plane, but really, let's wait and see if they're just more than just "son of sting" before you get all hepped up on them, okay? a friendly bunch who DID meet fans to sign stuff (take a hint there, you old geezers) and at least they waved at us and said hi when they were leaving.
no, we did not get to meet them, but the tour bus drove past my living room this morning as i was leaving for work. it was them on that bus. never mind that there were, like, four billion tour busses out behind the arena. this one was all alone, so it HAD to be them. and that's my story on that one, because sting and andy and stewart drove down my street on the way outta town and that's the way it is. got it??!?
more about laurie:
she rocks, as you know by now. me and alice and her boy went out to lunch in the market the day after the previously mentioned hubbub. as we turned the corner with gyros, we heard a familiar voice yelling "hey there guys!" laurie popped out of the crowd like a magical party favor. in a city of millions, leave it to me to find people i already know while randomly wandering. we had a good talk about this and that before she went on her mission to the cheese shop. hey, i knew i liked this woman for a reason. she is totally one of us.
and p.s. she wasn't being trapped at a book signing or anything, so i know she wasn't just being cordial this time. she was willingly speaking to me. it's always a relief to realize that you didn't come off as a total freak upon your first meeting with a person.
what happens when i don't work:
remember my long black hair? enjoy that picture of me in your head. now think of my hair as bright red and rosemary's baby style. now get jealous because i can wash and dry my hair in about five minutes. i was walking home from lunch/fancy vog shoe shopping with linda when the "get rid of this crap" impulse overtook me. the first place i called was too busy, so i walked into another joint that just happened to have a cancellation. lucky me! new hair AND a leisurely lunch AND the police all on the same day.
it's now wonder i had to sleep in on thursday. and what a treat to be able to go and hang out with bonnie and pets. she filled me with chicken fried steak and hashbrowns until i had to flop about on her couch for hours in happiness while rearranging otter's dog pillow. liz, you would be proud of me for easily pilling her cat snippy.
i think i am officially exhausted with excitement. or from excitement. or just exhausted after going to work for an entire day today. i'm even hopeful about looking for a house. who the hell am i?!?!
what i'm going to do now:
lay on the floor and pass out with the cats
about the police:
all i can say is, i had a freaking great time. the fancy party before the show had an open bar and foofoo stuff to eat. i had salmon rolls with caviar and prime rib for dinner. and oh, the fancy cheeses! let's just say that i'm not afraid to make a pig of myself in public. the party also had a special washroom not open to anyone else, because important people need and important toilet. they gave us little doodads that were "special VIP gifts" including a leather case and big gaudy badges. yes, i have taken it off since the show without even sleeping in it, in case you were wondering.
we made our way into the arena for the show after all that food and drink. so how were the police? they've been completely de-icon-ized for me, and the tour must be very humanizing for them. hey julie, remember giving me notes like "don't warm up on stage" when you were directing me? I GET IT NOW. in spite of that, they were a hoot to watch, and stewart was the main attraction. he did a lot of sprinting between a billion percussion instruments and looked like he was having the time of his life! there was so much standing and sitting going on that i was just waiting for him to pull out kneepads and incense while doing a drive-by transubstantiation. the flubs and oddities were met with a sense of humour by the band to the point of being endearing. which is not quite as coolly hilarious as a highly anticipated fistfight involving three guys heading for hip replacements would have been, but fucking fantabulous nonetheless.
sting's son and his peeps (sting's son singing and on bass, a squinty guy on guitar, and a flailing drummer - sound familiar?) opened for the police. they actually weren't bad at all. their band is called fiction plane, but really, let's wait and see if they're just more than just "son of sting" before you get all hepped up on them, okay? a friendly bunch who DID meet fans to sign stuff (take a hint there, you old geezers) and at least they waved at us and said hi when they were leaving.
no, we did not get to meet them, but the tour bus drove past my living room this morning as i was leaving for work. it was them on that bus. never mind that there were, like, four billion tour busses out behind the arena. this one was all alone, so it HAD to be them. and that's my story on that one, because sting and andy and stewart drove down my street on the way outta town and that's the way it is. got it??!?
more about laurie:
she rocks, as you know by now. me and alice and her boy went out to lunch in the market the day after the previously mentioned hubbub. as we turned the corner with gyros, we heard a familiar voice yelling "hey there guys!" laurie popped out of the crowd like a magical party favor. in a city of millions, leave it to me to find people i already know while randomly wandering. we had a good talk about this and that before she went on her mission to the cheese shop. hey, i knew i liked this woman for a reason. she is totally one of us.
and p.s. she wasn't being trapped at a book signing or anything, so i know she wasn't just being cordial this time. she was willingly speaking to me. it's always a relief to realize that you didn't come off as a total freak upon your first meeting with a person.
what happens when i don't work:
remember my long black hair? enjoy that picture of me in your head. now think of my hair as bright red and rosemary's baby style. now get jealous because i can wash and dry my hair in about five minutes. i was walking home from lunch/fancy vog shoe shopping with linda when the "get rid of this crap" impulse overtook me. the first place i called was too busy, so i walked into another joint that just happened to have a cancellation. lucky me! new hair AND a leisurely lunch AND the police all on the same day.
it's now wonder i had to sleep in on thursday. and what a treat to be able to go and hang out with bonnie and pets. she filled me with chicken fried steak and hashbrowns until i had to flop about on her couch for hours in happiness while rearranging otter's dog pillow. liz, you would be proud of me for easily pilling her cat snippy.
i think i am officially exhausted with excitement. or from excitement. or just exhausted after going to work for an entire day today. i'm even hopeful about looking for a house. who the hell am i?!?!
what i'm going to do now:
lay on the floor and pass out with the cats
05 June 2007
the sap drips on
holy shit. fucking rose-colored glasses.
yes, i went to the book thing tonight. yes, laurie notaro is way cool. yes, i did meet her earlier in the day as well and got to chat (well, i was doing my normal meeting new people mindless babbling thing) with her for some time about random crap. yes, you must buy her new book and make other people do the same. yes, she also did something wonderful for veronica.
better than that, veronica was so happy about the whole thing, and the underpants we sent her last week after an unfortunate criminal incident involving her unmentionables, that she called me at work to spread even more glee. can't. process. happiness.
seriously, i have no idea how to just sit here and be happy. what the fuck does one do with a GOOD DAY? it is so much easier to run around putting out fires than to be on the lookout for new ones to start. at least you know where the blaze is coming from when it's already burning, as sick as that might sound. i'm not emotionally prepared for this kind of trauma. like, a really smoothly running, nobody bothering the piss out of me, no bad news to deal with or hard decisions to make kind of day. QUOI?!? as one former big floppy pants hip hop guy might put it: stop - stammer time!
you're singing it now, aren't you? i bet you're even thinking about doing that little dance and humming the sampled bass line while flinging yourself around the living room. i can see you bobbing your head around and swishing your shoulders back and forth already. don't be ashamed. be proud of your guilty pleasures and give in to the urge. i'm doing the same thing. it must be time to get up and dance.
before i forget:
two more days! (you're singing roxanne now, aren't you? you sound great!)
yes, i went to the book thing tonight. yes, laurie notaro is way cool. yes, i did meet her earlier in the day as well and got to chat (well, i was doing my normal meeting new people mindless babbling thing) with her for some time about random crap. yes, you must buy her new book and make other people do the same. yes, she also did something wonderful for veronica.
better than that, veronica was so happy about the whole thing, and the underpants we sent her last week after an unfortunate criminal incident involving her unmentionables, that she called me at work to spread even more glee. can't. process. happiness.
seriously, i have no idea how to just sit here and be happy. what the fuck does one do with a GOOD DAY? it is so much easier to run around putting out fires than to be on the lookout for new ones to start. at least you know where the blaze is coming from when it's already burning, as sick as that might sound. i'm not emotionally prepared for this kind of trauma. like, a really smoothly running, nobody bothering the piss out of me, no bad news to deal with or hard decisions to make kind of day. QUOI?!? as one former big floppy pants hip hop guy might put it: stop - stammer time!
you're singing it now, aren't you? i bet you're even thinking about doing that little dance and humming the sampled bass line while flinging yourself around the living room. i can see you bobbing your head around and swishing your shoulders back and forth already. don't be ashamed. be proud of your guilty pleasures and give in to the urge. i'm doing the same thing. it must be time to get up and dance.
before i forget:
two more days! (you're singing roxanne now, aren't you? you sound great!)
04 June 2007
more midget mania... and other things
holly will be jealous. we have a challenge to her perennial win on our now infamous sport of midget sightings. me and derek saw a midget fat lady gypsy pirate. damn that she moved past us too quickly to get a photo! speaking of photos, derek should be putting up some from our latest mini-trip very soon, including some parade pictures.
more parades should be during the nighttime. we went to the starlight parade in portland last night, where we saw the aforementioned midget, and greatly enjoyed seeing lots of tubas decked out in glowy string stuff. it was definitely much better than sweating and stinking through a parade held at high noon while the sun is blinding us all and the dogs in the parade (and i mean literal dogs - not like just stinky weirdos or anything) look like they're going to expire. no one wants to see that.
did you know that they sell pet insurance with a "self-mutilation" clause? people really must be screwing up their pets these days to give them so much anxiety that they hurt themselves to get attention. ugh. listen to your pets before they wig out on you.
what do i wear on wednesday? what do i wear?!?! it's coming down to the wire on the police and it's almost time to start freaking out. no no no, i won't do it. wait a second. hell yeah, i sure will. freaking out!
speaking of losing my mind... we went house hunting while we were driving around this weekend. poor derek drove endlessly while i spied for any hint of a for sale sign everywhere we went. it was like being in real estate prison. this must be what it's like to have that baby fever feeling when your biological clock is ticking, only we're not having any babies. we're just driving. and driving. and we're beat. can i just come live with you?
wow. i think my voodoo donut high is starting to wear off. mmmm, mango jelly with tang on top is just what i needed to start my day.
what i googled this week:
best alternative songs 1987
it hit me while i was listening to an old book of love album that 1987 was the year i started going out clubbing in the afterhours. am i really this old? is my music really this old? is that a dumb question considering the concert this week?
more parades should be during the nighttime. we went to the starlight parade in portland last night, where we saw the aforementioned midget, and greatly enjoyed seeing lots of tubas decked out in glowy string stuff. it was definitely much better than sweating and stinking through a parade held at high noon while the sun is blinding us all and the dogs in the parade (and i mean literal dogs - not like just stinky weirdos or anything) look like they're going to expire. no one wants to see that.
did you know that they sell pet insurance with a "self-mutilation" clause? people really must be screwing up their pets these days to give them so much anxiety that they hurt themselves to get attention. ugh. listen to your pets before they wig out on you.
what do i wear on wednesday? what do i wear?!?! it's coming down to the wire on the police and it's almost time to start freaking out. no no no, i won't do it. wait a second. hell yeah, i sure will. freaking out!
speaking of losing my mind... we went house hunting while we were driving around this weekend. poor derek drove endlessly while i spied for any hint of a for sale sign everywhere we went. it was like being in real estate prison. this must be what it's like to have that baby fever feeling when your biological clock is ticking, only we're not having any babies. we're just driving. and driving. and we're beat. can i just come live with you?
wow. i think my voodoo donut high is starting to wear off. mmmm, mango jelly with tang on top is just what i needed to start my day.
what i googled this week:
best alternative songs 1987
it hit me while i was listening to an old book of love album that 1987 was the year i started going out clubbing in the afterhours. am i really this old? is my music really this old? is that a dumb question considering the concert this week?
02 June 2007
random side notes - chapter thirteen
we are now on the police countdown. only five more days! am i going to start each day this way? yup. you should really google "stewart copeland review" if you want a good laugh. it's refreshing to hear someone tell you how an iconic band can suckity suck if they try hard enough.
did i mention that i got a new book? laurie notaro of idiot girl fame put out her first novel this week. drooooool.i've started on it and plan to spend some good reading time with myself and laurie this weekend. yes, veronica, i will go to the thingy she's doing on monday and get a book signed for you. of course i will.
big whoops to mary for thinking that i had real estate "baby fever" before she did. she and tim just got lucky and had excellent timing to find their wonderful place. they also didn't keep on moving all over the country, which probably put them at an advantage when it came to narrowing down a good neighborhood. it really is a terrific house. you should go and see them sometime. they have a guest room, ya know. mary will even give you a whole bathroom to yourself and your very own set of bandages in case you get a boo boo.
i can work a mean blender, but my cooking skills are still in arrested development. derek has figured out the secrets of our favorite ethiopian dish. yay! yum! wheee! by contrast, i have figured out the secrets of a peanut butter & banana health shake. it's like spackled-gooey goodness. mmmmmm...
the next countdown begins now. only 19 more days until veronica and travis arrive in seattle for a visit! life gets a little easier when i have something to look forward to and remember how to count. both of those things are helpful. we are preparing plans filled with dorky ass tourist stuff to do. wanna ride the ducks with us?
derek has on sheepy underpants. baaa. baaa.
my artistic inspiration has gone awol as of late. ka-put. gone. sayonara, lightbulbs. perhaps it's buried somewhere beneath all the crap on my table. beneath the cat butts that splay themselves across my workspace. beneath the random crap that i throw around on my crafty area. seeing how we have visitors on the way soon, i should get my space cleaned up and get off my creative booty. ugh - just sitting down to blurb is sapping me right now, but i will push through and get going again.
breakfast is the most important meal of the day. they're not kidding when they tell you that. they don't mean that it has to be the biggest meal of the day. it just has to be there for you, pushing you past that kerfuffled time before lunch when you'd like to poke someone in the eyeball. remember that the next time you're wondering why you're dizzy and about to pass out "for no reason" later on in the day. not that it happened to me or anything. duh. i don't care what the olsen twins fucking think; coffee will only take you so far. a little yogurt can let your tummy stand an extra cup or four of joe without feeling icky.
epiphanetic doodad goals of the week:
besides cleaning the desk? sketch a bit, write a haiku, send out a few postcards to my far-off, far-out peeps. if i get super motivated i might even find the time to dye my hair. hey! that counts!
did i mention that i got a new book? laurie notaro of idiot girl fame put out her first novel this week. drooooool.i've started on it and plan to spend some good reading time with myself and laurie this weekend. yes, veronica, i will go to the thingy she's doing on monday and get a book signed for you. of course i will.
big whoops to mary for thinking that i had real estate "baby fever" before she did. she and tim just got lucky and had excellent timing to find their wonderful place. they also didn't keep on moving all over the country, which probably put them at an advantage when it came to narrowing down a good neighborhood. it really is a terrific house. you should go and see them sometime. they have a guest room, ya know. mary will even give you a whole bathroom to yourself and your very own set of bandages in case you get a boo boo.
i can work a mean blender, but my cooking skills are still in arrested development. derek has figured out the secrets of our favorite ethiopian dish. yay! yum! wheee! by contrast, i have figured out the secrets of a peanut butter & banana health shake. it's like spackled-gooey goodness. mmmmmm...
the next countdown begins now. only 19 more days until veronica and travis arrive in seattle for a visit! life gets a little easier when i have something to look forward to and remember how to count. both of those things are helpful. we are preparing plans filled with dorky ass tourist stuff to do. wanna ride the ducks with us?
derek has on sheepy underpants. baaa. baaa.
my artistic inspiration has gone awol as of late. ka-put. gone. sayonara, lightbulbs. perhaps it's buried somewhere beneath all the crap on my table. beneath the cat butts that splay themselves across my workspace. beneath the random crap that i throw around on my crafty area. seeing how we have visitors on the way soon, i should get my space cleaned up and get off my creative booty. ugh - just sitting down to blurb is sapping me right now, but i will push through and get going again.
breakfast is the most important meal of the day. they're not kidding when they tell you that. they don't mean that it has to be the biggest meal of the day. it just has to be there for you, pushing you past that kerfuffled time before lunch when you'd like to poke someone in the eyeball. remember that the next time you're wondering why you're dizzy and about to pass out "for no reason" later on in the day. not that it happened to me or anything. duh. i don't care what the olsen twins fucking think; coffee will only take you so far. a little yogurt can let your tummy stand an extra cup or four of joe without feeling icky.
epiphanetic doodad goals of the week:
besides cleaning the desk? sketch a bit, write a haiku, send out a few postcards to my far-off, far-out peeps. if i get super motivated i might even find the time to dye my hair. hey! that counts!
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