honeybuns anyone?

I thought I would show some felting process pictures since I tend to not do that so often. This is a circular bag I'm going to call "honeybuns." What you're seeing is the making of the main part of the bag. First I layout all the wool. This first layer is about 2 ounces of Norwegian wool with mixed wools as decoration. Underneath the layer is a resist of calico cloth. The resist will keep the sides from sticking together when I add the other side. The layout here is about 16 or 18 inches across.

Now I'm adding hot water and soap and pressing all the air out of the first layer (a second layer waits off to the side for joining in a minute). In order to keep the wool from sticking to my hands, I use a slick material over the wool. It's important to not move the wool around at this point or your layout will be destroyed.

I've added the second layer, carefully overlapped the edges all around (the resist is now completely enclosed inside) and I've pressed all the air out of the wool again after adding more hot soapy water. This image below shows the piece after about 20 minutes of gently pressing everything together and very gently rubbing with the protective material as a buffer. The felt is just now holding together here and I can carefully flop it from one side to another without it falling apart.

Now comes about two or three hours of manual labor, rolling the felt in a bamboo sheet, spot felting the edges and joins on a glass washboard (that's what you see below), throwing on the table, rubbing, screaming and sweating. As soon as I feel the felt getting "tough," I cut away the opening of the bag and hold my breath while removing the calico. Getting smooth, even joins or seams is probably the most difficult part of this type of 3-D felting--also called Scandinavian felting.

You can see the resist (I used calico/tight weave cotton, but you can use other things) has kept the layers from felting together and has given me a completely seamless pouch!

The basic felting process is now done and I have the base pouch to play with. Lots of details are left, but the seamless pouch is finished except for a vinegar dip (one cup to a gallon of water) to neutralize the soap's alkaline residue. I also "shaved" this bag so the design would show up better. It was a bit hairy. The finished bag is about two-thirds the original size!

Secret Agent Eyebooger observes from the spelsau batt and is not amused.

spinning out of control...

Considering I rarely finish a knitting project, can you tell me why I spun all this? Navajo-ply, two-ply, singles of all thicknesses, hand-dyed, commercial roving, handcarded, spun from the fold, straight on...I just want to roll in it. I think about knitting it, but I wind up just smelling and squeezing it. Clearly, I have a disorder.

woob...woob...woob...nyuk...nyuk...nyuk...

Too bad it's not funny...

kitties like wool, too...

I was working on some felt this evening and I heard some crinkling and crumpling going on this box that was behind me...

After lifting the pink paper, I saw that Mr. Rooney, a.k.a. Secret Agent Eyebooger, decided to make a nest in my best Norwegian wools...

Sadie, a.k.a. Princess Fat Dog, did a good job with the investigation, so all is secure again.

So, I've been doing some different things with my wool lately. These are wet-felted from loose wools as usual, but in some different designs. These are only the base parts of the bags...there's lots of finishing to do to them (funky linings, felt straps--which I like to put on the outside, instead of felted in)...anyway, some of the creative block is giving way...

RTB Scratchcard Edition...

Check out the Rocky Top Brigade Scratchcard Edition posted by our illustrious, bat-loving host Queen MedB.

stuff I don't want to know about but should...

From Abu Ghraib to Latin America: Map of U.S. Pattern of Abuse Grows
Torture of Iraqi Soldiers Indicative of Ongoing Policy of Systematic and Illegal Abuse
Recent reports of the torture of Iraqi detainees at the Abu Ghraib military prison near Baghdad are part of a larger pattern of abuse and torture at the hands of U.S. soldiers, U.S.-trained soldiers, "independent contractors" and intelligence agents around the world. In fact, U.S. Army intelligence manuals advocating torture techniques and how to circumvent laws on due process, arrest and detention were used for at least a decade to train Latin American soldiers at the U.S. Army's School of the Americas, renamed in 2001 the Western Hemisphere Institute for Security Cooperation or WHINSEC.
read more if you can stomach it...

And I can't even begin to talk about Nick Berg.

Someone said to me the other day "Better the devil you know than the devil you don't..." The comment wasn't related to the demise of humanity or the current political arena, but it sure does fit a lot of the scenarios currently at play.

Part three (or so) of the money beggar dilemma...

Last night I went out to water the herb and shade garden because our house has been earmarked to have an individualized drought while rain falls in all other neighborhoods around us and a lady walked by and said "hi." I said "hi, how are you?" back to her. Then she asked me for money to feed her baby and that she wouldn't have money until tomorrow because her son, who works at the McDonald's down the street, won't get paid until then.

I thought about telling her the truth--that I really didn't have anything to give her, but our house probably suggests otherwise. So I just very apologetically said I can't. She told me to have a blessed evening and walked on. My heart wanted to give, but my brain kept stepping in, having been scammed so many times.

Then I felt like shit anyway.

Even though I knew she was probably lying.

I thought later the next time someone says they need money for food, I will offer to go get them something and bring it right back. Then, it will be obvious if they are wanting food or something else.

Cades Cove...

In the Great Smoky Mountains National Park there's a place called "Cades Cove," a beautiful scenic valley with lots of wonderful wildlife. Ma and I drove through there after we went horseback riding last week. If we had driven through during the morning or early evening hours we would have seen hundreds of deer munching in the fields. East Tennessee is a beautiful place.

unbearable shame...

I feel so much shame over the treatment of Iraqi prisoners that I have avoided blogging about it after the initial shock of the news. My Fellow Man needs a copy of the Geneva Convention in order to know that rape, torture and humiliation of prisoners is wrong? My Fellow Man takes pictures of unspeakable acts and smiles for the world to see the depravity present in our own kind?

thank you, you son-of-a-bitch...

No really, I mean that with all my heart. I forgot to thank the drunken creep who started ringing our doorbell at 3:45 a.m. Monday morning because he said he needed $17 to get a tow truck for his wife and "they won't take checks or debit cards."

Neither hubby or I could sleep after that. We seem to be on the National Scam Interstate Route. Last week it was a girl saying she needed to talk to 1,000 people who would rate her on her friendliness and buy from her list of magazines. I just plainly told her we'd been scammed before and I couldn't do it. She said "well, that ruins it for the rest of us." Really?

We always get the same amount requested from us ($15-$18). Is that what a little bag of
"sumpin-supmin" costs these days? It seems to be the going rate around here. Ah, the joys of living near downtown.

wah.

I'm back. One person asked me how my vacation was and that's only because he wanted me to do something. I miss the old days in my department when everyone was really friendly and we all went on beach trips together and such. It's not like that anymore. Update 5-11: Okay, so I was just being bitchy. My office-bud, Inn was even out sick upon my return, so yah, I can be dramatic and bitchy all at the same time...'cause I'm multi-talented like that! Sorry, Inn. Ahem, oh yeah, a couple of people asked me later in the day anyway. Double the dose.

Oh well, I have to suck it up and pay the bills.

I had a nice relaxing vacation. I spent some time with my mom with whom I went horseback riding, hoofed around nearby Asheville and played slots. I took her to a casino for a day of gambling on Mother's Day...how about that for a non-traditional gift? She had a blast and so did I.

I did one sculpt of a doll head and a couple of felt pieces, but other than that I am still experiencing creative block. I think I'm perpetuating the problem by worrying about it.

So I'm not going to worry about it. I hope you all have been well. I gave myself a week-long break from blogging as well.

Thanks for giving Leigh-Anne so much feedback on the commemorative knit kit. I thought it was pretty neat, too. Happy Monday...blech!

WWII knit your bit kit...

This is darn interesting. Leigh-Anne at Over Coffee works at the Red Cross and asked me about a knit-your-bit kit they might be doing.

The commemorative knitting kit will raise funds for the American Red Cross and is based on the original world war era "Knit Your Bit" campaign, which enabled civilian volunteers to support troops by knitting needed clothing and blankets. Their goal is to release this knit kit for the 60th anniversary of D-Day and as the world remembers and memorializes the 60th anniversary of the ending of World War II (throughout this year). SHE IS LOOKING FOR FEEDBACK FROM KNITTERS--POSITIVE OR CONSTRUCTIVE.

And, oooooh, I feel all special because she let me post the prototype/preliminary design here to give you an idea about the kit. It is a sock-knitting kit that will include instructions and all the tools necessary to produce one pair of WWII regulation socks. There also will likely be two other sets of instructions for vintage/era knitting projections such as a muffler, gloves and/or cap. In the original sample there were going to be three smaller skeins of yarn (20% wool/80% acrylic), but they are now considering a single large skein of high quality (80% wool/20% acrylic) yarn to add value to the kit and for greater authenticity to the original wool yarn distributed by the Red Cross to volunteer knitters. The kit is contained in a reusable tin--good for storing needles, buttons, notations, instructional booklets, etc. (My personal opinion that I wrote back was that the more authentic, the better; e.g. no nasty acrylic).

click the image for full size

The kit will be sold by the Red Cross to help raise funds to support their emergency and disaster services, including but not limited to their Armed Forces Emergency Services which include emergency communications, care packages and on-base canteens for troops. The price point would be around $25.

PLEASE LEAVE YOUR COMMENT HERE ON WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT THE KIT OR SEND HER AN EMAIL BY CLICKING HERE.

Thanks Leigh-Anne for letting us be part of your research!

destination: hammock...

At 2 p.m. today I will walk out the door of my office for a week. A WHOLE week. The semester ended two days ago and my instructor emailed my grade...an "A" by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin. Gi-i-i-i-i-inngggggg-g-ger! (sorry, inside joke).

Most of my vacation days this year have been taken to work on a paper, study for a test, or because I was at the point of chasing imaginary bugs on the wall with the cats--and saving their imaginary exoskeletons to make imaginary mosaic wall art and sell it on Ebay.

This is different.

This is planned relaxation. I am going horseback riding with my mom and maybe running up to West Virginia to see DH's mee-maw. The rest of the time is free for creative endeavors (felting and dollmaking) and swinging freely in the hammock.

I haven't decided if I'm really going to ignore the Internet for the week or not. I'll let you know. C'mon 2 p.m., I'm ready.

damn it Jim, I'm a feminist, not a Buttercup!

Which Princess Bride Character are You?
this quiz was made by mysti
Buttercup, sheesh. What next?

thank you...

"That soldier said, 'There are some things going on here that I can't live with,'" said Kimmitt, who also confirmed that CBS had obtained the photographs.

Thank God there are a few people in the world who say "no more." I would hate to see a pie chart representing humans with a conscience and those without.

what do you WANT?!!

I was grumpy and tired last night. I got into bed about 11:30 p.m. and was prepared to snooze like a baby--until a troop of EVIL FELINES descended upon me. For most of the night Rooney slobbered and made "biscuits" in my hair while Baxter decided my face would be his roost of choice. And God forbid one of them get too close to the other and set off the dreaded kitty-in-my-space-alarm. But they did and the batting, smacking and whining all ensued upon my groggy and grumpy head.

The only way I can get Rooney to stop slobbering and pulling my hair is to coax him under the covers. Then he settles in for a while and purrs like the little mad animal he is until he gets too hot after which he shoots from under the covers and disappears. That's the routine. Last night he apparently dipped into some kitty crack because once he got under the covers he decided to root his way to the end of the bed and start furiously licking my husband's toes.

Dear Kitty, what is WRONG with you? Dear Kitty, is your food missing an essential vitamin? Dear Kitty, are you trying to dissolve me with your stinky-gum-disease slobber, wrap me in a cocoon and save me for a late night snack? Oh dear, Kitty.

I hate to say it, but...

Sometimes I am just a dumb ass. If you're trying to make a point (NOTE TO SELF) do not misspell "Holocaust." Don't even ask how I had it spelled. ANYWAY, the final for the semester, which was strangely easy (I think), is turned in. I am getting freer still...and the excitement continues to grow in my own curmudgeonistic way.

Outside my window I hear the wild chirping of newly hatched fledglings. There's a bird nest of little black birds, perhaps Starlings, nestled in an "old house hole" under one of our gutters. Noisy little bastards, but I just love hearing them.

Well...damn it; out of toilet paper, out of alcohol, out of tomatoes, out of bread, out of cat litter, out of fresh sheets (thanks to a stealth-puking-cat). Better get busy. I have to wash those black pants again for tomorrow you know. Eh, maybe I'll wash them tomorrow. Sheets, definitely. Pants, maybe.

yummy...

Because it's delicious: guild.com.

how many times will we witness...

Thank you All Seasons for the reminder to pay attention. Feel free to steal and share the image (genocide in the Sudan).

It really strikes me that there are enough evil people in the world to band together and commit mass atrocities. Rape and torture have always been tools of war since the beginning of time. It's strategic purpose is to eat away at the fabric of humanity in the enemy's camp. Families are broken. Spirits are broken. Hope is lost. Fear is ever-present. The damage to the ethnic group is long-term and painful. We watched genocidal efforts happen in Bosnia, in Guatemala (although lesser known) and during the Holocaust. There are others.

And I am sickened by my own passivity.

*For some reason the link to Passion in the Present is currently down, but I hope it will be back up soon.
NOTE: UNTIL THE SITE COMES BACK UP, THE ICON COMES OFF, BUT PLEASE REMEMBER THESE PEOPLE (AMONG SO MANY OTHERS UNDER SIEGE, IN YOUR PRAYERS, DRUM-BANGING, OR WHATEVER THE HELL YOU DO TO SEND OUT GOOD VIBES...

it's only fitting...

Sometimes you fit Where You Are, but sometimes You Don't Fit. It only matters if you are not okay with Not Fitting. If you Must Fit, then expect to give up Valuable Things in order to become One Who Fits. If you realize You Do Not Fit when you are in a place where You Must Fit, then you must remove yourself from the Ill-Fitting Situation. Then begins the journey of finding the Place Where You Fit. If there is No Place Where You Fit, then you must make your Own Place Where You Fit. You might be The Only One Who Fits There.

And That's OKAY.

le poop...

It's Monday, doggone it. And it's raining. BUT, next week I'm off...as in vacation. Oh dear God, it could not get here fast enough. The semester ends on Wednesday. I only need to turn in a final exam and I'm free.

I am hoping I can get some creative stuff done while I am off and I'm thinking I'll take the week off from blogging as well. I want all strings to be snipped for a week. I want to roll around in the grass like a dog on a stinkbug.

it's ONLY 2:30...

It's 2:30 p.m. and I am still in my pajamas. I don't know what else to say. Perhaps I should get dressed. Maybe.

dear God,

This is just a note to say "thanks" for letting me live through another work week. And another note of thanks for keeping me just sane enough to not be admitted to an inpatient psychiatric facility. Oh, and one more "thank you" for allowing the butt seam of my black pants to hold the buns in one more week. Whew.

craft and knitting books on Ebay

Go to my Ebay Store for unscrupulous deals on craft and knitting books!!! I'm cleaning out the craft book shelves. Tell your friends! All the books are in fabulous condition and are offered at a fraction of the original purchase price (read: I'm broke).

I'll probably close this Ebay store soon. It costs to keep it open, you know...and I haven't been listing a lot of stuff there lately. Dunno, I'll think about it.

I would like to thank my loyal assistants...
Grayson (front) and Atticus work hard while I list my books on Ebay. I couldn't have done it without them.

junior grows up...

Junior has already grown up and is nearly as large as Big Honkin' Mama Bloom. They kind of look like boobs, don't they? And, true to life, one is slightly bigger than the other.

Baxter continues to do okay, but we are going for our monthly bloodwork to check his thyroid on Saturday. He's sitting in an old fireplace thing (what do you call them, log-holders?)...anyway, it's a wonderful, and very heavy, thing to put potted plants in. Why no potted plants? I killed them. Not on purpose mind you, but they have all fluttered away to Compost Heaven.

Here's a closer image. You can see smudges of that nasty vitamin stuff I have to give him every night. It looks like gravy and stinks like putrid hell. He gags and gets through it. Poor kitty! He's about 13 years old now and was a shelter kitty.

I don't know why I am so picture happy this week. Must be Spring.

junior is here!

Like I said in the last post, it's always a surprise to see what's come to be in the yard whilst I have been working. Yesterday, I got home to find junior cradled in the shadow of Big Honkin' Mama Bloom.

And whoever said a dog can't smile, hasn't met my little fat dog Sadie...

Poor little Pickles doesn't take kindly to the camera, but I, as Wile E. Photographer, caught her unawares...

and one more Spring-like portrait for the day, because she really DOES smile. See?

I hope Spring is on the way wherever you are! Have a happy Wednesday!

Oh, how I lerrrrrv Spring...

And oh, how I miss my window. I was lucky in the office window department from 1989 until fall of 2000. Now, I am bathed in the sickly glow of flourescent nastiness all day. I am very light-sensitive. The more light I get, the happier I am. Literally.

Anyway. One of the highlights of the day is always being greeted by new blooms in the yard during Spring. Yesterday my peony, which is planted in the center of my herb garden, decided to explode. Wow! I sank my face down into the the bloom and inhaled deeply with total disregard for the plumes of pollen wiggling up my nostrils.



Then, I was greeted by my favorite welcoming committee, Pickles and Sadie.



After feeding the pupgals their dinner, it was such a beautiful day I plopped down in the hammock behind the shade garden. What a view! Beyond the arch you can see the blooming dogwoods (It took us at least five years to get those vines to properly grow around the archway). Every year I find another plant for the shade garden that can survive my inept gardening skills. Only the tough survive in my yard.



Ahhhhh, Spring. Breathe it in.

paranoia sucks...

Like the song goes, para-noi-ya will de-stroy ya. I had a community activism workshop to go to Friday afternoon, so I had to take off early Friday. Still haunted by the red pen dashing through my paper Wednesday night, I was compelled to ask my instructor about my paper. She didn't seem to remember so she said "let's go look, I have them with me." She said she had glanced at it the night before. As I watched her flip through, I didn't see any red ink. NO red ink. It wasn't my paper upon which she had unleashed her wrath. Hmm. She said it looked fine and it was okay I had written it on my own. Sheesh, all that worryin' for nuttin'.

This past weekend you may have noticed I didn't peck out nary a word on the blog. That's because it was one of the most beautiful, warm spring weekends I can remember. Temperatures were between 75-80 and every dogwood and apple tree was bursting with blooms. I worked in the yard and planted arugula, sage, tarragon and cilantro in the herb garden. I also transplanted a ton of peppermint to a new area. I wish someone had told me that peppermint is the herb of satan. It is EVERYWHERE. When I went to bed Saturday night I saw PEPPERMINT when I closed my eyes. Kudzu doesn't hold a candle to that stuff.

I also knitted and felted a bit. Unfortunately my three hours of knitting has to be ripped because the damn pattern was wrong. Experienced knitters see these things before a great amount of energy is spent. We perpetual beginners blindly follow the pattern and then are put upon to invent new curse words when we finally figure out we just tortured our tendons for no good reason. Rip!

Happy Monday!

bring it on...

Turns out I was sent the wrong forms for field placement. I don't start working three million hours a week this summer, but in the fall. Woo-hoo, that gives me time to do some art fair material, which makes me do the happy dance. I have been temporarily pardoned!

what's my address again?

There's nothing like a little geography test to make you feel like a moron...
Can you pass the third grade?
I got close, but no cookie. What do you expect from someone who still has to check her driver's license EVERY TIME she has to give the number over (I've had the license since 1996).

oh, poo...

Last night's class turned out to be a little field trip to the University Center auditorium to hear a speaker on environmentalism and social justice. It was interesting and quite scary to hear. I might write more about that later.

Before the speaker began our instructor took the opportunity to start looking over my paper. I was sitting about five rows behind her and about 10 seats to her left, so I could see what she was doing. And what she was doing was scribbling like mad with a red pen. It went like this:

...one-thousand-one, one-thousand-two...scribble, scribble, scribble...one-thousand-three, one-thousand-four...scribble, scribble, scribble, scribble...one-thousand-five...scribble, scribble...scribble, scribble...

She's going to run out of ink on the damn thing. I fear for my grade for the first time in graduate school. I had a bad feeling when I turned it in, especially after I learned that it was supposed to be a GROUP paper. I did mine by myself because I didn't absorb that little snippet of information. Maybe I'll get some pity points (NOT).

It is what it is. Gotta look at the big picture. I mean, when you see THIS FREE KNITTING PATTERN you just have to wonder just what is really important in this world.

important scientific breakthrough...

I have found that my anxiety level has a positive relationship to the number of blog entries I produce. The more anxious I am about a project or some other tasty morsel of impending doom deserving due procrastination (did you get that play on words?), the more I write. I've figured out that blogging is the equivalent of pinching myself to make sure I am still here and capable of the most sophisticated form of avoidance known to man. If other people are reading this, then I must STILL be ALIVE and successfully procrastinating! Either that or we're all burning in hell together and making friends while we fashionably fry.

That's a good thing. To be alive, I mean.

I am nearing, dare I say it, a WEEK of v...a...c...a...t...i...o...n... Right after the semester is over. And this pudgy little gal ain't doin' nuttin' except making arty farty fun things, ingesting food and drink that are plastered with warning labels and happily playing with the dogs and cats. The only thing between me and paradise is a final exam (well, and work). The idea of just hanging out makes me swoon.

I might even buy some fancy underwear for the occasion. You know, the kind that doesn't come in a six-pack.

fine...

As in done. Kind of. As done as it gets.
Anyway.
Get over to Dooce's house and send her some good vibes. She's needing some strength for all that weight she's carrying right now.

I'm trying not to whine...

This paper is driving me insane. I see a round hole, I pick up a square peg. So what if I had to nibble off the corners in a fit of insanity? It fits, right? Peg wood is roughage, right? Kind of like when you get a bug in your teeth. That's protein.

This is one rotten paper. It's worse than my high school school paper comparing two books, for which I read one. Yes, I will burn in literary hell forever while Dorothy Sayers tortures me with papercuts made with the pages of that unread book.

That's what happens when you insist square pegs go into round holes. You get bugs in your teeth and toothpicks in your stomach.

And, for God's sake, will someone stop me from blogging multiple times a day?!!

purdy is as purdy does...

I contend that The Swan is the worst reality show ever made. Why? Because it reflects our real-life warped values we present for women to digest on a daily basis. I watched a bit of one show and I was just sick.

Number One: There is nothing WRONG with the women in the beginning other than a serious lack of self-esteem and confidence.

Number Two: The experts are all shallow plastic morons with giant fake Chiclet teeth who do not have a CLUE as to what life is really all about. I guess they know all these hopeless gals are going to be repeat customers when they start the ageing process! "Oh my God, I'm ugly AGAIN!"

Number Three: The panel of experts includes a therapist. Gah! No decent, ethical therapist would be on such a panel because beauty isn't created by a knife and a vat of greasy make-up. I hope the money's good, because I know the therapy ain't.

Number Four: People LIKE this show. That alone is indicative of a serious problem in our society. If these people were missing arms and legs or had cleft palates or something I could get into the show. Watching women blubber on about how they've never thought they were pretty...well, honey, a knife, 10 pounds of make-up and a nice dress ain't gonna fix that.

Number Five: They are then JUDGED! How about that for the most ridiculous and dysfunctional ending to the process? Let's "grade" you and see if YOU ARE PRETTY ENOUGH. These women came in with a plethora of inferiority complexes to begin with. I abhor pagents anyway. Don't give me that "it's all about scholarships" shit. It's about how you look, whether or not you know how to use duct tape on your boobs and if you can string a couple of sentences together. Period. Got an apple shape? You ain't gettin' no crown. Can't we get PAST THIS CRAP?

I can't stand the thought of pre-pubescent girls clamoring to see this putrid garbage.

At least once a day I wonder why the human race is not extinct.

poor kitty!

This brings new meaning to the words "fat cat"...

look what I got...

Aren't you jealous? Lori's art cards arrived yesterday. Aren't they great? Click on the picture to go see for yourself.

don't ask me...

The prize-winning Google search for the day landing at my site? (drum roll) "sniff my father's stink underwear"

Now my life is complete.

fresh air and sunshine...

It looks like this old girl just needed some fresh air and sunshine, which I got plenty of on the drive over to my friend's house. On the 3 1/2 hour drive I had the sunroof open, windows down, and Badly Drawn Boy playing--I forgot how much I liked their music. I had fun at LA's house. We didn't really do much, just relaxed, cooked, walked around the neighborhood, etc. Her little dog, Hattie, is really hysterical. Since my friend sleeps with her, she gets a bath and blow-dry at least once a week. The funny thing is that when LA dries her hair in the morning, Hattie runs over to get her blow-dry, too. LA gives her a couple of passes with the dryer and pats her on the head so she can go on about her business. And like LA says, she is a VERY busy dog. I just loved her.
	I also got to see a painting LA commissioned of her house. Isn't it cool? Nashville has so many neat old houses. I forgot to take a picture of the chandelier she bought--it was made by Paige's mom! It is really wonderful and is extremely simliar to this one. It might be the same one for all I know. Fun stuff.
I happily did NOT work on my paper all weekend--all the material stayed in my trunk. I'll have to rush a bit tonight and tomorrow night to get it done, but I don't care--mama needed a mental break. Hope everyone had a great Easter!

running away...

I'm "off" today, meaning I took a "vacation" day to work on my paper and leave town after lunch to see a sorely missed friend of mine in Nashville for the weekend. My morning consisted of staring at the computer, trying some things with my paper, reading journal articles, feeling sick, crying my eyes out because I can't concentrate, attaining a dizzy headache, taking a shower, throwing my very fattest clothes and 10,000 books and articles in a bag and getting ready (which is where I am now...blogging before I go.) I hope my attitude changes before I show up at poor LA's house. "Hi girlfriend, I'll be your friendly basketcase for the weekend"...at least I can be an Easter Basket-case, eh? Well, Happy Easter all. I won't be such a grumpy egg the next time I blog--I hope.

how's the paper going, honey?

Argh, I can't get a grip on this stupid research paper. Papers are always EASY for me. Why is this one so hard? I have this nagging voice in the back of my slightly melted brain that's saying, "Your scope is too small. Your SCOPE is too SMALL." Somebody shut that bitch up before she makes me scrap the whole thing and start over. Grrr!

asshole...

My imagination is the only limit to what I'd like to do to this sack of shit. There's a link for sending condolences to Gizmo's owners.

in my email box this morning...

Happy Easter, hippity-hop style...

I'm getting implants!

Cuticle implants, that is. By the time I finish this dastardly research paper I am going to need the ends of my fingers replaced. I've gnawed them down like a hungry little beaver on crack. Only ice cream can help with a situation like this...

drive-by shooting...

On the way to a video editing session yesterday, I passed by my old neighborhood and took some photos where DH and I first lived together. It was a really cool first floor apartment, and where we met our little Pickles, rescued a roadside kitten and added a funny little Manx kitty. We loved that old house with its porch swings and Victorian elegance. It had really high ceilings and light to kill for. I took lots of good black and white kitty portraits there before my autofocus broke and I couldn't see worth shit to focus myself. (Guess I need glasses after all.) I look back and wish I hadn't been so horribly depressed during those years--I would have spent a lot more time on that porch swing. I miss that porch now.
	For the Critter Chick, another drive-by shooting of the mounding habits of phlox...

Class tonight. Man, I'm wearin' down.

NO WAY!!!!

Yes, way. I just noticed as I was posting my previous sarcastic/bitchy post that Hatamaran passed 10,000 visits today. And only 9,492 were me!!! (Actually I have my IP blocked on my stats, but still...) Ten-thousand crazy people have gotten so bored that they have visited this site (well, okay, 10 people who visit a lot...). Amazing. Gosh, I wonder how many people would visit if I said something IMPORTANT. Hmmm *twiddles thumbs as wheels turn*

Well, in honor of 10,000 visitors, I'm going to change my UNKY MOOD to EXCITED. Gosh-darn-it. You love me. You REALLY love me!

I'm going to pretend I'm excited as I return to my research paper. *la, la, la, la, denial...denial...denial*

my inner evil child...

My inner evil child comments on this article in italics
Survey Reveals More Americans Are Using Tax Refunds for Periodontal Plastic Surgery for Health, Cosmetic Reasons

CHICAGO, IL--(MARKET WIRE)--Apr 6, 2004 -- It's tax time and for people who are getting a refund (you son-of-a-bitch-I-hate-you), many of them already know how they'll spend it (I'm gonna poke yer eyes out right after I finish this gallon carton of no-name-knock-off of Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia, you son-of-a-bitch!). A new on-line survey conducted by the American Academy of Periodontology shows that nearly one-third of people getting refunds are putting their money where their mouths are by having periodontal plastic surgery.(You self-absorbed piece of yak dung!)
According to the survey:

-- 84% of respondents say the appearance of their teeth and gums is
extremely important
-- 79% expect a tax refund (Why the hell am I in the 21%?!!!!????? You cock-a-mamie son-of-a-bitch, I'm gonna break yer teeth off with my discount drugstore eyelash curler that causes my eyeballs to swell shut cuz it has nickel in it! Right after I finish this 12-pack of Black Label beer. Then, I'm gonna git my cousins to open a can of whoop-ass on you!)
-- 34% will spend tax refund on periodontal plastic surgery

I wish it wuz me.
/end evil inner child

holy shit...
And I was afraid of having a baby without an epidural...One tough broad on the other side of this link.

ohhhhhhh, Tuesday's here...

Muggly-buggly, I don't feel great today. Camp o' Crampo. You'll be in tent Torso Torsion. Well, whatever.

I think DH are doing taxes tonight finally. Oh, how I dread it. Oh, I hope I don't have to get a loan to cover it. (insert general gnashing of teeth here.) Well, whatever.

I knitted a little on Kyoto, studied and watched some tube last night. Average Joe turned out to be Typical Joe and Socialite Skank ran off with the money-laden doofus. The other gal can do much better. Well, whatever.

I'm listening to my Dandys this morning whilst I work, but not too loudly lest I be pegged a dastardly sinner. Well, whatever.

Flub-lubbb-lubbber...just too tired to tweak and twizzle today.

p.s. Check out the Yum-Yums list...there are some new artists listed in there who are really cool, namely Loretta Lux and La-Dee-Da Folk Art (found over at Looby Lu).

happy monday...

And that is an oxymoron (well, a two-word one, but nevertheless). Thank God for Daylight Savings Time. I need more vitamin D. I had a pretty boring weekend...working in the yard and watching movies (we rented "Something's Gotta Give" which was fantastic!). DH had a boy's night out on Saturday night, so my weekend was pretty boring. That happens when you're broke. Oh, have I mentioned that before? I have? Are you sure? Sorry about that.

I took my little project list off the left column because I decided that it was a hindrance, rather than a motivator. Sometimes I go through a creative angst period where I don't create a lot and feel anxious about it the entire time. I guess my irrational fear is that my creative self has taken a permanent flight. I have a couple of paintings in mind that I think I need to try to do. I'm not a really painter, but I know enough that I can use the medium as self-expressive therapy. The ideas won't really work as 3-D figures and I don't want to force the images into a medium that doesn't nurture the message. I think I am anxious about so many things right now that it's really got me creatively constipated.

This week is one of catching up at work, writing papers and reading articles for school. Bah humbug. I am going to get out and go to Nashville this weekend to see a good friend of mine. I really miss her. We worked together for many years.

Baxter continues to do better and we are still feeding him a dropper of vitamins everyday. It's much like one of those "shoot the duck" carnival games where the little tin ducks are flying across the target range and you just have to point, shoot and hope for the best. In other words, I get a lot of the stinky vitamin mixture on me as well.

Well, happy monday, oxymoron or not!

Mus reed Glurp, now...

Barry at Glurps inn of last home has the Rocky Top Brigade Volunteer Tailgate Party this week. This one is truly priceless. I laughed out loud. Go see!!!

fifteen...

Today I get recognized for fifteen years of service to my company. Fifteen-that's a teenager. Fifteen-that's um, three times five. Uh. Anyway.

I started working at this company in 1989. I've held many positions, but they've always been within the marketing/advertising/PR departments. I've had the titles of editor, coordinator, director, manager and general idiot pasted on my badge (okay, one of those titles isn't real--c'mon the LAST one--sheesh). I am hoping I will only be here one more year. The finish line year. The transitional year. The year of gnashing of teeth. Okay, that's dramatic.

So, I get to go to a luncheon where my boss will get up and say a few words. Hrm. I think these things are useless. Give me money. Plus, they will make no concessions for a vegetarian lunch. I asked about it and the event coordinator said "oh I don't know what the menu is but I'm sure they'll have some vegetables and salad--they always do." You know what went through my mind at that point? Fuck you. That's right, I said a wordy-durd. I am slowly becoming a belligerent vegetarian. Tennessee is NOT a vegetarian-friendly state. There's a couple places that know how to serve vegetarian fare, but for the most part this is meat-n-taters country honey! You gotta' be a Baptist, pig-feet eatin' kinda gal around here. Dear God, please bless this cow intestine casserole I am about to consume. I'm not asking for much, just to make sure that after FIFTEEN YEARS OF SERVICE, that at MY CELEBRATORY LUNCH, I get to eat something besides a buttered piece of stale bread and a cup of green beans. Bah. I'm going to wear a sandwich board that says "Bite me, I'm meatless." I not a meat-eater-hater (my husband is a meat-eater), but I just want to be able to eat something without meat in it.

Whatever. I do like green beans though. I wonder if they'll have green beans? (Seasoned with bacon fat I'm sure.)

Update for above: Yes, I now feel like an ungrateful bitch. Which I am sometimes, like today. I really had fun, ate about a pound of delicious asparagus that didn't taste like bacon grease and my boss, who is WAY too nice to me, said some really nice things about me and my work. Sometimes I am brutally moronic. *smack, smack* Snap out of it! I wonder if being an ungrateful bitch is hereditary? Well, you know I told my boss just how awesome she is and how much I appreciate her flexibility and support. And I do.

And, if you'll notice, the Yack-O-Meter has slowed down tremendously. I started feeding the kitties Purina One Sensitive Stomach and everyone is gaining weight and keeping their food where it belongs--in the tummy or in the litter box. We only had one puke yesterday and I think that was from getting a chicken soup treat from my husband. I was feeding them Science Diet Sensitive Stomach and they hated it--not to mention that is was more than twice the price. Mama likes fat kitties; yes, she does.

the tax man cometh...

Yes, that's right, the tax man cometh and his name is Bubba. Bubba carries a big shiny machete and chews 'baccer. He's gonna cut our heads off and spit down our throats while he laughs at old re-runs of Hee-Haw and Dukes of Hazzard. *sigh* We haven't done our taxes yet. Why? Well, for starters, we have no money and really, why prolong the agony? One quick cut is how I prefer to be slaughtered. We'll probably do them Friday night. Without children, you pay, you pay, you pay. It doesn't matter how little you made...you pay. No amount of philanthropy or itemization has ever helped us. We have the max taken out of our checks. *cheerfully whistling* Whatever. La, la, la, la, la. Denial, denial, denial. Next subject.

I get to see one of my two great mentors tomorrow after work. She is a medical psychologist who works with people living with HIV/AIDS and she agreed to be interviewed for a little research paper I'm doing. Her son died of AIDS several years ago, so she knows the anguish of AIDS up close. By turning her own wounds into a wellspring of compassion, she has become an invaluable advocate and really puts her heart into caring for those who are struggling with the disease. I've always admired her ability to part the seas of bureaucratic bullshit and return her focus to the important work at hand. It's good to have people like that in your life who are brave and strong enough to walk the path the way it should be walked. She's not perfect, but you can usually count on her to have her priorities in order.

Tonight I have class, BUT I vow to NOT put money in the snack or Coke machines. The social work building has the most notorious money-eating snack machines in the known universe. Tonight, I rebel!

from the mail e-bag...

Finally, someone to pick on other than poor old Tennessee...

whining, seque exploitation, pretend shopping and corporate poop...

Yesterday I emailed my resume off for a field placement. *sputter* I dread this. Not because of the experience, but because of the hours. If you missed the earlier whining, I'll be working full-time at my current job (of which I have come to detest all 40 hours) and then go to another job (social work field placement) for 16 hours a week. I'll have to change my 9am to 5pm existence to work 7am - 3pm; then leave for the other job until ??pm. We simply are too broke for me to go part-time so I can do my internship. I don't think DH thinks I can do it. I think I CAN do it. I just think I'll be miserable and bitchy for an entire year. I think old farts CAN learn new tricks. Other than never getting to see DH, the thing that upsets me the most is that I won't be able to spend time with my pets. They are all getting a lot older and time is more precious with them than before. I'll also have no time for artistic endeavors. Anyway, that's all I gotta say about all that. The time draws near.

(pretend there's a segue here...) It gently rained all night and it was warm enough to keep the windows open. Ah, that makes for a snuggly buggly sleep. (pretend there's another segue here...)

I know you are dying to know how the poor shop. Well, I did a scientific study of one and I have the statistically significant answer: They "pretend shop." I (not that I was the said statistically significant sample) shop all the time, I just don't ever get to hit the "submit" button. I have pretended to buy a virtual plethora of wool, cotton, knitting books, patterns and art books. I just don't get to hit "submit." Damn it, I want to hit "submit"!!! Seeing Elann's deals twice a week is causing me to break out in yarn-deprivation-acne. *Don't look, just go to your stash. Just GO to your stash. DO NOT hit submit. Do NOT click that button!* Perhaps being deprived of new things will force me to finish old things. See, there IS a bright side! But I do have one small purchase to make this payday and I can't wait to make it. I'll let you know when I do, because it's really, super-duper neat. No, really it is.

(forget the segue, just get over it and keep reading...) Have a great day. I have to get back to editing and writing corporate fluff and participating in rancid demagoguery. Not that I have a negative attitude about it...(the ellipses should be enough of a segue for you, sheesh!)

Just overheard: I just heard someone come in for a meeting and the person organizing the meeting said, "Come on in, drop your load." Heh, they should have said that to ME. Because I would have. *smirk*

(to hell with segues)

I swear, I'm normally a nice person. I swear. Honest!

the phlox is here! the phlox is here!

Yes, ah, the phlox is here! I really love it when the phlox blooms in the front yard. You can see my favorite color is purple from the photo! As many flowers and plants that I kill, I still love them all when they survive my horrible gardening skills and bloom anyway! We have a round bed edged with stone that surrounds a little Cousa dogwood in our front yard. For some reason, once the phlox blooms, I go immediately into Spring Fever Stupor. It's just wonderful and cheerful. I cleaned out the herb garden today, too, which is always a fragrant treat and also cleaned the, a-hem, "rose garden," in which I have killed two of six bushes in one year. I should say three, but I saw one lone sprout trying to survive. Anyway, it was a bright and sunny weekend--just what I needed. Beers on the patio; college baseball less than two miles away for cheap. And Baxter seems to be feeling better. All in all, it was a good weekend. I hope your weekend was good, too!

Update: Phlox loves full sun, is drought-tolerant, creeps over the ground at a rapid rate, can be propagated easily by plugging and looks great in rock gardens and drapes elegantly over garden walls. (Basically, it can stand my retarded gardening skills.)

why, it IS sunny outside...

We're expecting a beautiful and unseasonably warm weekend. Yippee! Grayson (yawning to the left) says he's really tired and is happy the weekend is here. I second that one! Have a wonderful weekend, all.

thanks y'all...

Blogging is so weird. All the comments I got on yesterday's post really lifted me up. It's nice to know you are not alone. It's nice to know there are really wonderful people out there. I've been in sort-of a rotten place this week and you guys actually helped me keep my chin up. How weird is that? Strange or not, I thank you for your kindness and support. You left me "ver-klempt"...talk amongst yourselves... *sniff*

is it sunny outside?

Ok, so I was a wee bit negative yesterday. Things were, quite frankly, shitty. Sorry for the spew. For those of you who do not take copious notes from this silly little blog, I'll recap why we are so destitute. Let's review it mathmatically, shall we?

Stage One: great paying job but psycho-boss + pretty good paying job=easy lifestyle and lots of shopping
Stage Two: unemployment for a year + pretty good paying job=trying to pay two-income sized bills with two-thirds less money
Stage Three: crappy paying job and another psycho boss + pretty good paying job=resources exhausted; paying bills rough
Stage Four: great job with great boss, but 2 year training period during which hardly any pay comes in + pretty good paying job=resources still spent; impossible to pay all bills; much gnashing of teeth.

We are halfway through stage four. One more year of gnashing teeth, eating grubs and bark from the yard to survive. Once hubby's training/assistantship is over, things will be much better, but it's getting there that's hard.

My little spinning wheel is keeping me sane at the moment. Spinning is one of the most relaxing things in the world to me. Even more relaxing than knitting. I'm still creatively constipated, but I ain't gonna give up.

In Kitty World, Baxter's thyroid test came back "high normal" once again. So, we can't put him on meds for hyperthyroidism just yet. He's so skinny it breaks my heart...he used to be such a fat monster cat. We have to take him back next month for more bloodwork to monitor his thyroid. He seems to be feeling good though. We continue to cram those vitamins and antibiotics down his throat every night before we go to bed and it's helping him. He stays pissed for about three hours and then goes back to sleeping across my head about 2 a.m. And thanks to Banana Flip for sharing the mysteries of the Cat Brain.

Man, I wish I had some money, because Elann has some dead sexy cotton on sale. Argh. Me want. Me can't have.

thinking bad thoughts...

I am a little black cloud today. I do not have the money to pay my bills. I am sick of school. I hate my job. I never see my husband because he works so much. I am so stressed over money all the time that I can't enjoy one moment, but I don't have the energy to make stuff to sell because I'm so crapped out. I can only knit/spin/felt what is in my stash (which I am trying to protect with my life) and occasionally I'll sneak and buy a knitting book, but other than that it's necessities only. And when one of the animals has a problem, I can't squeak by. I went from being a shop-a-holic to no-shopping-ever. I have to go to class tonight and I just don't care at the moment. Tomorrow will be better, but today I am feeling angry, negative, tired and disappointed. I think that should cover it. Aren't you glad you stopped by? Sorry you just stepped in my mental dog poop.

I have been doing something...

I have been spinning up this Wensleydale (I think I spelled that right--too lazy to check) in a heavy worsted style single. And I have also been obsessively making stupid coin pouches for no good reason. Why? Yes, indeed, why. I just had all these spinning and dyeing experiments laying around and nothing to do with them. They were too scratchy to be against the skin, too few yards to really make an accessory I liked...so hell, all I have is pennies...why not make a bunch of pouches to hold them?

$157 later...

I picked up Baxter yesterday after work and came home with three medications, a groggy cat and a burgeoning mental list of things I could sell on Ebay to replace the $157 I just forked over. I brought a can of soup in today for lunch (and some delicious knitting).

Baxter's blood test for liver and kidney function was fine, but I'm still waiting to hear back on the thyroid panel. Otherwise, his little abcess was the reason for the medicine. I have to place medicine INSIDE the abcess twice a day, give him a full dropper of stinky vitamins and a full dropper of antibiotics--both once a day. Let's just say it takes more than one person. Surprisingly, he doesn't even flinch when I fill the abcess with medicine, but he cries when I give him the droppers. Deaf cat yowls seem more pitiful for some reason. The abcess is only about the size of a match head if you are wondering. It's merely an open place in his skin like a burst boil. *hurl, hurl* I know it's gross. Of course, darling hubby, let Baxter sit on the sheets after being medicated and now there's medicated butt goo all over my side of the sheets below my pillow. Get thee to a washer!

Now I'm paranoid the other cats have ass problems and I've taken to inspecting all their little buttholes. Rooney has tight little pink pucker that is rarely dirty; Grayson a larger, furrier pucker, but with frequent remnants of dingleberries and Atticus has a tanish, medium-sized pucker with only occasional crusties on the periphery. And that, my friends, is a description of all my kitties' assholes. When inspecting cat butt is the most important thing you do during the day, you gotta question your direction in life...

8.6 pounds...

That's what poor Baxter's weight has gotten down to. And his little anus abcess has opened up again...it's small, but hardly something to ignore. I think he must have a little cyst or something that gets reinfected. Anyway, he has lost more than half of his body weight over the last three years, with the last year being the fastest weight loss (thus the worry). He acts healthier than ever though, which is what throws me. He plays more than when he was so fat and is twice as annoying at night, stomping back and forth across our heads and weirdly yowling at passing dust particles (like deaf cats do). He also has a very strange habit of parking himself exactly between our eyeballs and the television when we are in bed. It's the only place he will stand if the television is on. He just stands there, staring into space, slowly swishing his tail, as if to say, "Look at me, God of Cats. Why would thou be interested in electronic drivel when you can revel in my utter magnificence?" The only way you can ever see the TV is if you hug him like a teddy bear to your chest, which if he can't stand up and swish his tail, is the next best thing.

We did go see a matinee Saturday. Guess what we saw? That's right: SECRET WINDOW. It was good, even though somewhat predictable (except for the ending, which had all the makings of a predictable ending, but resisted the temptation), and the Deppster, was well, the Deppster--strange, intriguing and sinfully cute. The predictability was not a problem in this movie because it was not so much about giving you a surprise, but a study of demise. Hey, that rhymed. Does that make me an accidental poet? Uh..............

Oh, and I had wanted to go see this felt/textile artist appearing in Atlanta over the weekend, but alas, I could not pull any money from my ass...what!? another rhyme? Is God trying to tell me something?!!! Wow, I am just awestruck by this strange coincidence. *snort*

And, it's Monday. I don't want to talk about it.

how much is too much?

My hubby comes from a family that is constantly in one other's business and quite frankly they probably know what I do on a day-to-day basis. I come from a family who hardly ever gets together and talks on the phone a couple of times a month (sometimes once or twice a week at the most if my mom is in town). I feel suffocated. He can't figure out why I don't want to make weekly plans with his family. Something is always cropping up and they are on the phone multiple times a day--everyday.

How much is too much for you?

Update: We did have dinner and, just to make a fool of me, we had a great time. It's hard being a curmudgeon.

happy, happy Friday...

Millan.net

Oh, I'm just sitting here calmly, but inside I am doing a very happy dance that today is Friday. I'm feeling a lot better, too--just in time for a sunny Spring-like weekend (I hope). I am really hoping I can get some creative juices flowing this weekend--I've been creatively constipated way too long. Baxter is going for his repeat bloodwork on Monday. I'll bet we find that he needs medication for hyperthryroidism. He also has one of his mystery abcesses on his rear that needs to be looked at. I don't know where those things come from, but we always take him to get it looked at and usually put him on antibiotics just in case. It's one his many bizarre unexplainable health problems. He's happy and active for a 13 year-old cat. Go figure. We worry about him everyday, thinking he's going to croak, but he just keeps hanging out, happy as can be. He had feline leukemia when we got him and the vet put him on this strange Buffer*n therapy that worked somehow. Giving Baxter a pill is truly like WWIII, so I'm surprised he got medicated at all. Here's to happy cats, Friday, and the exit of all things reminscent of mucous.

multi-tasking with snot, part deux...

Well, fortunately I didn't sneeze and fart last night. I just annoyed the living hell out of everyone by continually rearranging my stockpile of mucous through coughing and snorting. Occasionally I would let out a croaking moan for good measure. We got our mid-terms back and I was pissed that I only made an 87. Shit, that blows. This class is not in my area of interest and I think it shows a little. I need to pull that grade up though. *grimace* Two viruses in the first quarter of the year--unheard of. I think it's stress over money and all the other difficulties we've been facing lately.

But I DO feel a little better today. Unfortunately, clients are barking about their jobs not being done (not you, L). Graphics can't get them done any sooner because they are swamped. I am in the middle of the mess trying to tell clients I cannot pull these things out of my ass no matter how far I reach up my colon. I'm almost glad I'll be stuck in a studio for most of the day shooting intros for a project. Gah, I am eternally grateful for being employed, but the enjoyment stops there.

Have a happy Thursday everyone. Friday is on its way.

multi-tasking with snot...

Ah, there's nothing better than multi-tasking with a bad cold. Not only can I blow snot from my nose, but from my tear ducts as well. Gosh, it's great feeling to be so talented. Why I came into work I'll never know because I can hardly string a sentence together. Weebles wobble, but they don't fall down. There's the level I'm operating at. And, oh boy, I get to go to school tonight, too, where I'll hack, sneeze, blow my nose and talk like a diseased frog for three hours. I can't wait. But I can't disappoint my public because my public loves me. *snort* Just think, if I sneeze hard enough, I might also accidentally fart--something that could send the entire classroom into a psychological tailspin. What a social experiment that might be...would they laugh? Would they say nothing, but privately snicker? Would they feel sorry for me or crinkle their noses in disgust? What if I got tickled and started to laugh so hard myself that I continued to fart uncontrollably?

Can you tell my expectations are pretty low for the day?

It could be far worse. Where's the escape button on this ride?

well, so much for tact...

Usually I am a very tactful person with other people, but every once in a while I botch up communication so badly I want to crawl into a hole. Yesterday, I expressed a concern to my husband with the tact of a Neanderthal, maybe even a retarded Neanderthal. Then, the rest of the day was spent rinsing and repeating---"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."

(Note to self: Diarrhea of the mouth is a BAD thing.)

Speaking of mouths, we tried a new toothpaste called "Extreme Clean." Hay-Suess, it tastes like 10 year-old Christmas candy and bile (mostly bile). I literally gag when I brush my tongue. What the hell were they going for with that "flavor?" Now with the fresh flavor of rancid gastric juices! It was so expensive, we have to use it---but one tube will do me for a lifetime. Blech!!! Paaatoooooie!

Link of the day: Pop Cult Magazine.

it is soooooooo Monday...

I'm starting off the week with a nice chest cold, which is not such a big deal, except it's making me a tad cranky. You should not be pushy with me when I've been afflicted with the Creeping Crud. I sound like I have TB--perhaps that accounts for the lack of visitors to my office this morning.

I'm cramming down a Subway veggie sandwich whilst I type during the last few minutes of my lunch break. I spent most of my lunch puttering around in my car listening to music and fantasizing about driving right past the airport and not coming back. Well, to work that is. Damn insurance. That and the fact I haven't had the oil changed in my car in so long that I would soon be stranded. Yes, it's on my to-do list come payday.

What? Did you hear that? Little faeries are whispering "Secret Window" into my ear. It got two thumbs up so I don't feel so bad dragging hubby to the theater so I can stare at Johnny Depp for TWO SOLID NON-STOP HOURS. I am not much for "stars," (they take big stinky craps like everyone else) except for the Deppster. What is it about that silly twerp?

Well, more later, I am swamped today. Bah. *cough, wheeze, cough*

p.s. And just in case you missed it, "Lucky Me, I hit the trifecta." Link spirited from The Dust Congress.

where is my plate?

Click for full view.

When we have dinner at our old antique (and rickety) dining room table, Atticus runs in and takes his place as if he were an esteemed guest. He watches us eat while giving us his famous "I scold you!" meow. It sounds like "mahhhtt." If he's not scolding, he's giving us his equally famous evil eye. From time to time he'll test the waters by putting his paw on the table but takes it back when I tell him "no! off!"

In other news, how did I miss the Dandy Warhols? Me likey. Me likey a lot.

doggy, I wuv ooooo...

Sadie and Pickles have been restored on Dogster...go see...links on the left. Be our friend?

it's different...

Terrorism used to be something so far away--something that happened in countries of unrest, political upheaval...
Now it seems when I read about a tragedy like the one in Madrid it takes hold of me in a brand new way. It's a bad feeling of being included in the world.

I'm so happy tomorrow is Friday I could just pee in my pants.

Mush, mush, forward...

p.s. It is SO UNFAIR to be broke when Waterspun Weekend and Follies (a perfect match for all my Mags Kandis pattern booklets) is at Elann. Not fair at all. Not fair. Not fair. Not fair. *pout*

guilty...

I kind of feel guilty laughing so hard at Dooce's stories. I feel sorry for her at the same time I can't help but roll all over the floor giggling like Sadie does when she finds a really stinky dead bug.

Poo. All my Dogster information up and disappeared. What's the deal? Now I'll have to enter it in all over again. Bah.

how about that?

I don't feel like complaining today. What's up with that? Go figure. Last night I finally tried my Winsor Pilates DVD I bought recently out of sheer desperation. I really like it and I felt great immediately afterward and even today. My back feels good especially. Hubby tried it too--I've never heard so much grunting, moaning and "yeah, right!" as he watched the super-toned Pilates instructors wrap their legs up in Celtic knots. Hubby isn't the most flexible guy in the world. Lucky for him, there's the gal doing the "modified exercises" in the background...but I'd say this program will stretch him out in no time. Anyway, it has my endorsement, so what else could you possibly need? It's even doable with my super skinny budget. Thanks and general accolades go to Put Down the Donut for pointing it out.

fun on the farm...

Hungry Camels	Slobberfest	Uh, excuse us...
Sweet Wallaby	Is he trying to tell me something?

moo.

We went to an exotic petting zoo on Saturday. It was a blast, although the vegetarian in me was inspecting the grounds pretty carefully to see if the animals were properly cared for. I felt a twinge of guilt having so much fun with captive animals that belonged in the wild.

Anyway. We hand-fed camels, goats, zonkeys, donkeys, zebras, miniature horses, guanacos and played with wallabys and watched prairie dogs, peacocks, reindeer and saw in person just how large Anatolian Shepherd livestock guard dogs really are. The camels decided to mate right after we gave them some feed--that was interesting. The female was really vocal and made some sounds that were very Chewbacca-like--except A LOT louder. Of course, my husband wanted his picture taken standing in front of the whole thing. Men.

Well, it looks like I will be starting my field placement in social work this summer, not fall. We "extended" students (part-timers) have to do field placement year-round because we work 16 hours a week instead of 20 like the full-time students have to.

I am hoping to work at a place that's close to my full-time job. This center is mostly addiction treatment, although dual diagnosis is usually the rule with that work. I think A&D could be interesting. I don't have any experience in that area, so I think I could really learn a lot--could be a real eye-opener. I am trying to do some calculating to see if I could possibly work "heavy part-time" (30 hours or so) at my current job, so I could survive working two jobs. My boss is being so flexible and helpful it's amazing. I think I could get my job done in a 30 hour week with no problem...then I'd only be working a total of 46 or so hours a week, which is really no big deal. The question is, can I afford to drop 10 paid hours a week? I don't know yet. If I can't afford to do that, I'll have to come in super early so I can get off in time to work at an agency in the late afternoon/evening. Not being one of those rabid-high energy type people, I fear that option. But we'll see. I have to get my abacus out and do some high-falutin' figgerin'.

I cut my hair last night. I don't know how to cut hair. I just thought, "how hard could it be to just cut about four inches off around the whole bottom?" It's still long, but I haven't had it cut in a year, so there's were some really dry ends to get rid of. Actually, it looks fine. My hairdresser would die. I just don't want to spend money on stuff like that right now. I'm already way over budget from hubby's birthday celebration.

I crocheted a bulky wool scarf last night and I've already decided to rip it back out. I've been total knitting spaz lately. I did get a customer's hat resized last night. It took me so long though that I'm sending her a shibori-dyed scarf in her package for free. I'm sure she'll think that's excessive, but I hate that I didn't get it back to her sooner.

And can I say that drinking Red B*ll actually works? I rolled my eyes repeatedly over such a drink, refusing to try it for more than a year, then my husband brought it home one day and I'll be damned, if the little elixir doesn't work. Maybe it's akin to chewing on a raw sugar cane, but I sure do get a little energy buzz off of the stuff. And I was even more shocked to discover I love the taste. I've been hoodwinked by a devilish marketing ploy...

I have been informed that pics of the petting zoo will arrive in my email this afternoon. I hope I can share them--I wasn't wearing a stitch of make-up and had been walking around in a muddy field before we decided to drive up there...

Happy Birthday!

Today's is hubby's 41st! I couldn't resist this old photo...it's so funny. Of course, I altered it a bit. The cats expressed their love for him by throwing up directly on his favorite pair of Levi's. At least they took the time to make something for him. There's nothing like Kitty Casserole for breakfast...