Better than fruit salad

Q: WHAT IS GOOD?

1. Bourbon, tea and honey. I was using a decent bourbon and this tea, if you must know. And you probably must, it was quite good. There was a house warming party last weekend and what with my cold and the system madness at work, I figured that was a better option than woodchucks all night as far as my health was concerned. Hell, it was probably a better option overall.

2. A fine publication.

3. Sitting in a tub filled with warm water and honey-scented bubbles while listening to my neighbor play his melancholy electric base. I am all about the base, and all about the folks who can play music as though they are scoring their surroundings (which is what he does when he jams with himself for hours on end) rather than just plunking tunes (which is what I used to do, fantasizing about the former until I sold my guitar). He plays in the room that is but a thin wall away from my art room, and I like to pretend that our combined efforts make some sort of mutant Mecha-ArtBot that can rampage to spread its love and aesthetic harmony. It also means, becuase of the way our tri-plex is set up, that his music seeps through the walls of my staircase and a little bit into the bathroom. It does this even more when you leave the door open and the light/vent off, which you can do when you have weird hours that drive your comrade to seek refuge at his own place among people who can stay up until 2am. Yea verily.

THE BATTLE FOR HELM’S DEEP IS OVER

Hello. Welcome to the aftermath of crazy week. Apart from learning all my overtime will not show up on this paycheck (caused by some stupid workweek vs. payweek thing), everything went about as well as it could. I celebrated the end of it (as well as the end of proper summer) yesterday by going to the art museum and drinking some good quality coffee. It was nice, but a little tiring, and rather than stay up on the stoop like we might do any other drizzly, full-moon’d night, we basically went straight to bed where I had some profoundly strange dreams about standing in borrowed underwear (purple — a long sleeved bike shirt thing and booty shorts) with a huge group of people in a gymnasium, with complicated crowd control velvet ropes and screens, and seeing Anthony’s penis as being hollow on the underside with little branch-veins and white nodes floating around. Later he bought me a dildo that was basically a flattened plastic bottle, and he chased me around a t-shirt store with a worm.

Speaking of Anthony, the beginning of school roughly marks our three year anniversary, which is so many things that amount to fantastic. We don’t really celebrate an anniversary (since we don’t know any exact dates,) other than an occasional “damn, dude.” Three years is longer than either of us have ever been with anyone ever and it’s going swimmingly. More, please.

LET’S HERE IT FOR AMAZING YOUTH ACTRESSES

In particular,

Ellen Page

Emily Browning

Emma Watson

and I have high hopes for Dakota Blue Richards.

This simply cannot be longer, for I have class in less than an hour and I still have coffee to drink and a body to wash.

This week I am going to be scarce as it is project switch everything from old system to new system week at work. Overtime approved. I am facing up to seven 11 hour days at work, plus I still need to have meetings about classes for school. when I’m not doing these other things, I will probably be sitting very still at home.

Here’s some tidbits I’ve picked up. See you next week.

This is my argument for the pixie haircut. Distorted though it may be.

This is another. You too could have Dido’s messy look. As long as you go through 6 steps and 3 products. You may as well not wash.

And a lovely quote from Drinkboy: “Drinking just to get drunk is like having sex just to get pregnant.”

DEBATE SETTLED, FOR NOW

Drew’s comic is in fact the day after the Simpson’s national release. Though that still doesn’t explain the anchor thing.

HERE’S SOME INTERESTING STUFF I’VE NOTICED LATELY

1. This morning I watched a DHL truck do a very surprisingly nimble maneuver in the middle of the street. It was the sort of state patrol police car thing that sent him from one side of the street facing south to the other side facing north, making a big arc. The tires did not squeal, though I did have my music up pretty loud. The guy also did not make a very smooth recovery, but rather seemed to need a few minutes to process what it was he was doing. He seemed to be reaching for something in the passenger seat, and as I passed him (going south) I noticed that his hair was a little messed up and he had a cigarette hanging from his mouth. The thrilling and daring life of express mail carriers!

2. As I was getting into my car last night there was a guy in the ally sobbing into a cell phone. I couldn’t exactly tell what was going on at first, because he was past the initial blow of whatever it was he was confronting and had reached the moaning stage. I had never seen him before — typical jockish college kid: dyed blond curls, blue-and-grey striped polo shirt with the collar popped — otherwise I would have run over to him and comforted him somehow. I almost did anyway, it was all very gut-wrenching and sad on a strictly human level. He was wandering up and down the alley, echoing against buildings and things. He kept saying no. At one point I caught I want to hang out with you. It’s frightening to see a human go through something like that knowing it’s another human that’s doing it to them.

3. Last night I also saw a very young cat hanging around our dumpster. I thought it was just sort of passing through but it hung out for quite a long time there, and I know becuase I kept peeking at it from the windows upstairs. I also kept knocking on the windows and mewing at it from upstairs, which is a bit hilarious because there is no way the cat could have heard me and no guarantee it would have responded even if it had. It made me think of zoos and DO NOT TAP THE GLASS signs and proximity, and I sketched a little about it and then I went to sleep.

GET ‘EM WHEN THEY’RE YOUNG

Did you know that I am a smoker? I didn’t either, but according to my Mom’s life insurance policy I have been since I was 2 years old. I don’t know how they didn’t catch that when they started the policy, but just the other day Mom was actually reading the fine print and noticed this error that has no doubt cost them an extra x amount all twenty years or so they’ve been paying. Today I received a little piece of paper that said no I never have been a smoker to sign and mail to them so that they can get everything fixed. They had Dad down as a smoker as well, which isn’t entirely true (I think he quit about 7 years before I was born) and he may have to do blood tests and things to set things right, but hopefully I am in the clear by just signing my name.

Of course, becuase I have The Guiltiest Conscience Ever, there was definitely a moment where I thought What? Is this just an elaborate plot to ask me if I do or not??

SOME PARTING LINKS
A great toothbrush

Terror!

Say this with me: five can kill you. Five can kill you. Think about that next time you decide to go on a life-threatening espresso binge.

Dream: a man came up to the car in a stoplight, and knocked on the inside of the dashboard. Yes? He handed me a small box. “This is a bomb,” he said, “will you take it for me?” He was so earnest we did, though we were a little confused by it, and kept asking it’s not really a bomb, right? We had to sign a little fed-ex type scanner, and he beeped a few things with it, and had intense eye contact. Yellowish suit, wild brown hair, blueish yellow eyes.

We opened the box and inside was just a set of keys. All were silver, small ones to big ones, labeled with numbers.

WELCOME TO SUNDAY

So: last week I started an art blog (more info below), and started a goodreads profile, and thought about doing a shoutfit profile as well, but then I remembered my sick obsession with the livejournal fashion communities and I’m hard pressed to see exactly how they’re different — except that shoutfit does in fact have some good stuff on it. I think. Mostly: while I appreciate that my own attire is unique and distinct, the one thing I don’t do is Take It Seriously. And so while I do have a few rules regarding dress; some things are never okay, certain cuts of shirts or pants are far too much work, etc., apart from that I mostly just wear what smells clean. I put together outfits when I feel like it, but I don’t think my “feeling like it” extends to wanting to record it on the USS internets. That’s too much like hard work and Taking It Seriously and frankly my dear life’s too short.

BUT SPEAKING OF CLOTHES, HERE’S MY NEW FAVORITE THING

Steampunk. If I were rich and in high school, I would so do steampunk. I’d have to go with men’s dress since I’m really not into corsets or big complicated skirts, but really the whole waistcoat-spats-top hat thing is something I am actively trying to incorporate into my own clothing anyway.

Hey! My English class is done and now I have 2.5 weeks of true summer. So far I have celebrated by having an awesome day Thursday, a really long party day Friday, and a really sluggish day Saturday. Oh yeah, and starting an art blog. Shall we break it down?

FOOD AND DRINK

1. My English final was Thursday, so I moved all my work stuff around and took the morning off. I slept in, and Anthony and I went for donuts.

We used to go to this donut place a lot, it’s only two blocks away from the building our art history class was in my freshmen year. Class would get out mere minutes after the dining hall closed breakfast so we’d go to the donut place. Every single time we went we’d see these great two old ladies. They were always wearing rather short dresses — sort of cheap powersuit shaped dresses without the jackets, and usually with some sort of loud print all over them — bright lipstick and BIG hair. Like Realtor hair, or Miss Rodeo USA hair. Poufs. Not like the old lady afro, but rather the extreme version of the soccer mom thing. Hairspray big. Almost like a beehive bob. Both of them had hair like this. I have been digging in my notebooks from ‘04 because I have some great diagrams of what this hair is like and so far no dice. We always wondered about these ladies, mostly because of their GIANT HAIR, but also becuase they always seemed to be All Dressed Up With Nowhere To Go, at 8:36 a.m. every Tuesday or Thursday.

So three years later. Anthony and I are at the donut place again, and the ladies were STILL there, in their same booth, looking at the color supplements and drinking coffee. It was beautiful.

2. Friday was Missy’s last day at work, and we celebrated in a small way at her desk with muffins, and then later went out to celebrate in a big way. The three of us had queso maddness (I had queso del mar, she had queso sans-mar, and JG had a slightly different queso that came with chips,) and margaritas for three hours. We did all this on the patio with little sparrows hopping around hunting for chips, and the breeze, and the sun, and it was so much happiness that it counteracted the sadness of Missy leaving quite nicely.

3. The same night after I left margaritaville, I walked over to the other bar and had what turned out to be a very long night with everyone else for no particular reason. I drank more this night than I think I ever have, but it was over a long enough span of time and mixed with Cheesey Goodness that I did not feel sick or too drunk, but rather maintained the tipsy all night. It was good. I Learned a lot about the soap opera that has been Dani’s love life, did a lot of talking, got compliments on my hair and Sensei jacket, and did not pay for anything.

MATERIAL THINGS

1. I hit up an estate sale and scored big time. First: I got six handkerchiefs for a dollar, three orange and three brown. I officially do not need to look for them any more, and if I find other good ones for a steal like that, I will start giving them away to people. Second: a TYPEWRITER for $5.00. Oh people you have no idea. I wasted so much of my afternoon playing around with the thing. Pictures are forthcoming. But it was love, people. True love.

2. Saturday we watched Airplane. You’ve probably seen it, because everyone has seen it except me. Now I have, and I really loved it, and now there are two other Leslie Nelson movies on the netflix queue.

3. Somewhere in there I learned about Roulottes. I am painting a chair based on a chair I saw somewhere in there, and I am fantasizing about selling everything and buying a cart horse.

4. Art blog. I needed a place that was more public than this to showcase what’s going on in my ArtLand, and it also so far has kept me on my toes and a little more active. It is mostly focused on my stuff — any paintings, painting planning, drawings, or crafty things I’m doing — but it will also be a place to put inspiration and links to good stuff art-wise. So it will not be a replacement for this, but rather a place to keep me focused on life-stuff here.

The end. It’s time to shower and then sit somewhere for a while.

THIS IS HOW I MADE A CLOTH GROCERY BAG

I get in modes where I want to do everything I can for Earth. And really, I’m doing okay compared most people my age I think. But I could always do MORE.

Cloth grocery bags, if you don’t get them from Whole Foods when they’re giving them out for free on Earth Day, are kind of expensive. That’s lame. So I decided to try and make one.

The size I wanted was about the size of this paper bag. I looked at how the thing was made.

Then, I looked at what I had in my fabric stash. I was going to go buy more fabric, but where’s the sport in that? I had some leftover flannel from all my quilting projects. They were in weird strips and irregular bits.

I lined them up next to my model. Oddly, each piece was almost exactly what I needed in terms of length.

I used the following pieces:

- A piece for the skinny sides, that included both sides and the bottom.

- A piece for both fat sides, also including the bottom
- Two straps
- Two strap enforcers
- Some cotton to reinforce everything, since flannel is not all that strong and could stretch out.

Then I sewed it together. Then I blanket stitched the outside a little, and the side seems to make it more boxy.

And now I have a cloth grocery bag to forget at home. So far the only place I reliably use it is the farmer’s market, but I guess that’s appropriate.

TO DO LIST

1. Go on a walking tour in Europe. Really anywhere would be fine, but there’s something very English about a walking tour, for some reason, so I think that would be the best place to start.

2. Begin training to become a sherpa.

3. Put on a decent shirt, go to work.

WHY I AM AN AWESOME PERSON

This last weekend I went camping with a girlfriend of mine from high school. It was to be a chance to really catch up, uninhibited, for about three days. When I was telling Anthony about the trip he asked “is this a ‘and I will bring you back pictures’ type a trip, or a ‘you are welcome to come along’ type trip?” He was a trooper to learn it was the former, but after a long week of work (literally — he pulled several 10 hour days and only got one day off) I figured some sort of end of the week niceness for him would be appropriate. So, instead of further gouging our wallets by eating somewhere, I packed a picnic and we ate at the park. Not just ANY picnic mind you, but a GOOD one, with salami and homemade grain bars, bits of aged cheddar and bread, and fresh peaches. Hell yes. The picnic of champions. After a week of what do you want to eat oh I don’t know is there ramen I can’t remember oh let’s go to Wendy’s type dinners, it was glorious to have a plan. And eat real food. And do it outside next to ducks. Hooray!