Interesting.

2010-08-20T21:19:00.000-07:00

I didn't post the video, below. Actually, this is the first time I've been to MY blog in years, and was surprised as hell to see the below post. What is most interesting is THE NAME IS SPELLED INCORRECTLY.

Ya know what? I think I'm going to delete that post. It pisses me off that someone commandeered my blog (even if I wasn't actively using it).

Previous| Join | Next

Johnny Penea Photography promo 3.mov

2010-06-08T13:29:00.000-07:00

Previous| Join | Next

ThankYouLoveYouByeBye!

2007-12-04T13:02:00.000-08:00
">
Okay Lady. Silly Puppy.

Hi, Kids.

I know I've been away for a bit, and I feel as though I owe some folks an explanation. That way, you can know what's been going on, and feel free to comment or not, however you prefer. The easiest way is to just come out and say it, without resorting to any prolific maneuvers. So here goes.

As many of you know, 2007 has not been a good year. In addition to all the little aches and pains that come with being the only grown up in the household, the Jman lost his job and what little money he brought in; we were forced to move and find a place that would accept my 105 lb BFF, who I ended up losing two months after the move; wee monkeygurl left me for the summer; and I've been in a bit of funk that self-medicating could not cure.

After bringing the WMG back from the house in Hawaii, the Grandparents went to their house in a small-town community in Northern California. Very rural, outside of Sacramento, but quickly becoming a bedroom community. Although we called every weekend, we were not told of what was going on. As it turns out, my mom expressly forbade my father from "worrying" us. On November 9, my father, an otherwise very stoic, hard-core career Marine (23 years, baby) called me at work, crying. Unbeknownst to me, the "cold" that my mother had come back from Hawaii with had been steadily progressing to something more serious. It turned into pnemonia, which led to the discovery of fibrosistic scarring of her lungs. By the time the call came, she had been in the hospital for 9 days and was fading fast. I flew up the next day.

Mom was a mess when I got there, and when downhill for the next two weeks. My oldest brother was there when I first arrived, but couldn't handle seeing Mom like that, so he left after the weekend. The other two brothers wouldn't even be bothered with my father's calls. The only way my father would even consider leaving the ICU was if I stayed there with Mom (I didn't disagree.) I won't go into all the medical mumbo-jumbo, but let me say I've seen and learned more about interstitial lung disease than I ever cared to know.

Mom died on November 21.

The following week was spent having heart-to-heart talks with a man I barely knew. Having been married for over 46 years, my father was understandably heartbroken and lost. To say my relationship with my mother was complex is to grossly understate the situation. Having to be the strong one was difficult. I hadn't been home in over two weeks, and given the rolling 8-hours-at-the-hospital/8-hours-off schedule of previous weeks, my tenuous grasp of reality had disappated. I had no access to a computer, nor really any time to spend on one, so I had absolutely no concept of what was going on in the outside world.

So. Back to LA, to make preparations for her memorial service, touch base with my employer to make sure I still had a job, and reconnect with my family to make sure they still knew who I was.

The sheer surreal insanity has final abated, somewhat, and I'm back to work and kind of feeling back to "normal" (for me, at least). However, I find myself in the midst of the "holiday" chaos, flailing like a drowning swimmer, just trying to keep my head above the water. Although I haven't much time for reflection, I do know that certain things will have to be set aside, at least for the time being. I love my blog friends, and I love reading about what you've been doing and I will probably continue to do that (just as soon as I catch up. . .), but as far as posting, well, I don't know. At least for the next month or two, I'm going to have to say, "Thank you. Love you. Bye-bye."

Previous| Join | Next

I'm Midge.

2007-10-18T14:55:00.000-07:00

HSUS MySpace Page | Take the Quiz!

WHO THE HECK ARE YOU?!

Previous| Join | Next

Speaking of Debauchery. . .

2007-10-17T12:37:00.000-07:00
Uhm, Yummmmmmmmmmmmmmmm! I haven't even tried it yet, and already I'm hooked. I wonder if they carry it at Mel & Rose's... (there's a Target nearby.)

Previous| Join | Next

The Weekend

2007-10-15T15:32:00.000-07:00
This weekend, I actually got OFF MY DUFF. No, not to attend the monthly meeting of the WeHo Saturday SnB. Puh-leeze. They get up before the crack o' dawn (or at least, before noon) on a SATURDAY. I didn't even get up to register the WeeMonkeyGurrl at her new program. Since I had mistakenly (I KNOW!!! Last time I made a mistake was back in. . . '78? '79??) taken them LAST week, she and the Jman knew perfectly well where to go and what to do. Besides, I would have had to be there at 7:45 AM. AGAIN. Jman was really thrilled b/c he was a baller growing up (football!), so he is uninitiated with the ways of the performing arts crowd, and he was awestruck at what the kids do. Seriously - he actually said, "It was like, Fame or sumpthin." Well, I hope not exactly, because WMG is much too young for many of those hijinx.

Anyhoo, I made it out of the house to go watch a friend perform at Molly Malone's off Fairfax. OH MY GAWD. He ROCKED!!!! Let me just say, several times he's asked me to go to one of his shows, and I was like, "Oh, sure", thinking "how cute, he has a little band, and he wants to be a rock star", and several times I flaked out (I KNOW!!! Can you imagine?!?!?!), but this time it was on a weekend, and I wasn't going to be out of town, so I had no real excuse for not showing up.

Thank the gods. Because, even tho there was some snafu with respect to the rest of the band (and I didn't find out the story until AFTER the performance), he was genuinely amazing. Seriously. The things he did with his mouth and hands. . . well, not many can kick serious arse on the harmonica and guitar AT THE SAME TIME, and I felt a bit guilty for thinking naughty thoughts about a boy half my age.

Plus, it was kinda fun being the "odd" one - I went alone, took out my knitting, had a couple of absolute mandarin with sodas, and really enjoyed myself. I listened to good music, oogled some cute boys, and got my knitting done. I *WISH* I'd had the nerve to behave like this when I was in my 20's. I could have avoided a LOT of problems.

Previous| Join | Next

Like, OMG!!!!

2007-10-11T12:33:00.000-07:00
HOW thrilled was I to see Knitty's latest surprise, quite by accident?!?!?! I was looking on KPC for something totally unrelated (and long since forgotten) when I saw the new link. Of course, this morning, they have updated the links (see side bar), BUUUUTTTT, I wasn't expecting it, and it gave me something to do yesterday! As I mentioned several times (much to their annoyance) to the attendees at last week's SnB, I'm having some committment issues with projects. I think I'm feeling overwhelmed, in general, and with knitting, in particular. But the one thing I have vowed (with varied success) to do is to KEEP KNITTING FUN. So I've indulged my laissez-faire attitude.

HOWEVER.

We got two birfdays coming up - WMG's, and that of her FAVORITE uncle (my former boyfriend), and, putting aside all the moral, legal and philosophical considerations, we always do a shared party (they are ONE DAY apart!) AND I HAVE NOTHING FOR GIFTING HIM!!!

Since he recently got married (1 year ago) and even more recently announced the impending birth of his first child (a couple months ago), my gifts to him have become simpler and considerably less expensive. I don't think his new wifey would appreciate me lavishing immoderate gifts on him, and I can't say that I blame her. So I was kinda at odds for what to do this year, particularly since I am secretly working on something for the coming babe. Well, Knitty resolved this for me quick, fast and in a hurry.

He *loves* Nightmare Before Christmas. And even if he didn't, he once made the mistake of saying he does, so it has become A Thing for him. You know the phenomenon - when you unthinkingly say, "I like pigs", and for the next 20 years, for every occasion that requires gift-giving, you are the recipient of some sort of porcine gift. Whether it's pig-shaped soap, or pig kitchen towels, or pig slippers. You rue the day you ever mentioned pigs, because you are STUCK with it. Well, it's that way with Douggles and Jack Skellington. I don't care if he really likes it or not, he's getting getting it because it makes MY life easier!!! And it doesn't hurt that I also found this FANTASTIC pattern to go with it!!! I KNOW!!!!

Now, Douggles and I have known each other for nearly 20 years, so I don't really remember if he shares my love of All Things Gothic, or if that's just my faulty memory, but every year he gets something goth or gore related, and every year he acts like he likes it... :)

I was so excited about finishing these two before the shared celebration (currently slated for 20 October 2007), that I didn't even bother going to a *real* yarn store last nite (too far away, too much effort, yadda yadda). Nope. I went to the uber-convenient Pearl off Pico, because (1) it's on my way home and (b) I know they carry all things Lion Brand. Douggle's wifey, the Dawnster, has extreme psychosomatic allergies to a lot of things, so all things wool (even non-but-perceived-as-wool-like, such as alpaca or llama) are verboten in the house.

Can I just say Cotton-ease is GREAT?! It's sproingier than 100% cotton, but still has that cotton-y softness. AND it's machine washable and dryable, which is a considerable consideration when it comes to a house filled with 2 pre-teens, 2 pitbulls, a cat, an alzheimers' patient and an impending new babe.

Anyhoo, I got my yarn, and I got a real fright, just in time to get me in that spirit spirit.

{{SHUDDER!!!}}

Previous| Join | Next

Saga of the Saggy Bobbles

2007-10-09T15:10:00.000-07:00
well, I messed up the pattern, so I ripped out the swatch.

That felt goooooooooooooooooood.

Lisa D and Judy Sumner recommended I try wrapping the bobbles; unfortunately, I didn't get their advice until after I began again. Sure, I'll begin again, again. (Not!)

JenL recommended I actually do some research on the subject. HAHAHAHAHAHAH. So cute. Actually, I did go to Annie's blog - I haven't been there in a while and I sure to enjoy the reading. But no bobble-vice to be found.

Annika posited a truly revolutionary idea - why not do the opposite of what I was doing, since what I was doing rendered the opposite of what I wanted?! The sheer beauty and simplicity astounded me. (In other words, I had a Homer Simpson "D'OH!" moment.) It worked beautifully. They say having a baby gives you mommy brain. Clearly, this is not the case for Sam's mom.

Pretty new knit side

And pretty new purl (you can't even see the backside of the bobbles).

I wonder if this is what the insides of my boobs look like?

In other news, we have elevators in the office building that no doubt are ADA compliant. We have had these new elevators for (6? 8?) months, now. When the doors open, a sultry woman's voice announces whether the elevator cab is going up or down. EVERY time she announces, "Going DOWN", I think "That's what HE said!"

Will that ever get old?!

Previous| Join | Next

ISO A Perkier Bobble

2007-10-08T15:11:00.000-07:00
I posted this question on the knitlist:

I'm doing a stitch swatch of "Mimosa Shoot" (Knitting Daily, Stitch of
the Day), and the bobbles are formed by "K1 P1 K1 P1 into next stitch,
turn, K4, turn, sl st purlwise, P3tog, psso". Got it. But the
problem is, when left alone, my bobbles tend to bob to the wrong (or
rev. stockinette) side, rather than the right side. If I try to prod
them to the right side, they look like half-insie/half-outtie belly
buttons - like they *really* want to go back the other way.

I've tried knitting tighter and looser, as well has knitting the
following (all purl) row more tightly, to no avail.

I'm using up odd ball yarn - in this case, LB Microspun, which is
*really* smooth and soft. Could this be the culprit?

Any suggestions? TIA.

I'm repeating the question here, (1) so those that don't receive the list can give me their input, and (B) because I just think the question is funny.

Here are pix of the purl side

and the knit side

Now it might not be so obvious from the cell phone pix, but the purl side just seems to *POP* more, and I figured out why it's bugging me so much. Bobbles, generally, remind me of nipples, and it's been a loooooooooooooooong time since I've seen some perky ones. Also, a non-popping bobble looks a lot like an inverted nip (and breastfeeders will back me up here), an inverted nip just aint much fun. Bobbles made from with smaller gauge needles and smooth fiber are just so much more like nipples (can you believe I said "needle" and "nipple" in the same sentence?!?!? OUCH!!!), and the pink color can't be helping the imagery much.

This looks infected.

Previous| Join | Next

So Ya Wanna Be A Rock Superstar

2007-10-02T14:10:00.000-07:00
Well, first you have to find a dress intended to fit a 3T. And ROCK IT.

Then, you have to convince your father to take you to Toys R Us (while your mom is still sleeping), and use your own money to purchase a wireless microphone.

Then, you have to figure out how to hook that microphone up to your guitar. And kick some arse on "Mary Had A Little Lamb".

Yeah, BOYYEEEEEE!!!

Previous| Join | Next

No one can stop me now, tonight I'm on the loose

2007-10-01T10:20:00.000-07:00
My doppleganger got out again. At least, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

She was tired of being held down by the (wo)man, so when she found out about The Party, she tied me up, threw me in the back of my closet, and went out to let off a little steam. Fortunately, she only overpowers me once in a blue moon, but whenever she does, it seems I'm apologizing forever after. Some people think it's kinda cool to have an evil twin, but I don't agree. It's like having curly hair - everybody wants it, unless you have it, then you realize what a pain in the arse it is to care for.

So, to those of you she offended in anyway, whether it be inappropriate observations to unsuspecting innocents, flirting shamelessly with boyeeez half her age, or dancing as if there was a stripper pole nearby, I apologize profusely for any damage she may have done. I'd like to just go on record stating that was a FRIENDLY kiss she gave the bartender (for doing such a stand-up job, I might add), that grabbing The Boyfriend's toushie was accidental, but calling Assholio Make-Out Boy a "poseur" was completely justified.

All I have left to figure out is how she got a 3" rugburn on MY left knee...

which, if you squint really hard, kinda resembles Miss K with her fahncee 'do.

Previous| Join | Next

2007-09-28T11:54:00.001-07:00
"Nrrrrrrrrrrrrg. GLACK!" I said, frantically waiving my right hand like a drowning man.

"Oh, are you okay?" She asked, completely oblivious. Fortunately, she had the insight to take a break from shoving 2" needles up into my gums.

"Gah-GUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"Oh, do you want some suction?"

No, of course not. I'm completely enjoying the feeling of bitter isopropyl alcohol pooling in my throat. And since you have me at a 45° angle toward the floor, my nasal passages are completely blocked.

When was the last time someone died in the chair at the endodontist's office?

Previous| Join | Next

Aw, HOLY HELL

2007-09-25T10:03:00.000-07:00
I apologize in advance for and warn of the coarse language used in this post.

THIS is . . . WAS WMG's bus driver.

Christ.

We watched the late news on Saturday nite, something I've been avoiding doing in the attempt to sleep at night, but it was Saturday, and we were going to watch SNL, and... His picture was up, and the Jman made a remark about how he looked like WMG's bus driver, except (the bus driver) has a big, goofy grin. I was knitting, I didn't even look up. We made our wise-ass remarks as a way of dealing with the issue, and forgot about it.

Until this morning.

Bus driver didn't show up yesterday, but we didn't think anything of it. I got a call from the school last nite, but I didn't hear my cell phone ring, so I didn't hear the message. WMG didn't say anything, so there wasn't any buzz around the school. Then, when the Jman got home this morning from dropping off the WMG, he said, "Uh, honey. . ."

I thought, "Oh, shit. This sounds like its gonna cost me money!"

I was totally unprepared for what he had to tell me. So I dealt with it in my usual calm, logical way. I pointed out that it was a domestic dispute and that it had nothing to do with the kids, so there was really nothing for us to worry about. (Like humans are capable of compartmentalizing like that.) That if the guy had no previous record, there was no way of telling he was going to snap, so there was nothing the school district could have done to weed him out. And that there are sharp edges everywhere; we can't expect to cushion everything so the monkey is always safe. Life doesn't work like that.

But inside, I feel like I'm going to hurl at any minute.

The principal said there would be a counselor on campus for the kids if they should need it. I feel I need it. Can I go to campus? No, I have to sit at my desk and focus on bullshit work while my angel is constantly in harm's way.

I've never really cared about living; I'm pretty much on borrowed time, anyway. The way I've lived, I should have been dead 100 times over. But since having the WMG, I know I have to stick around so I can take care of her. If this guy was to have snapped during the week instead of over the weekend, there's no way I could have done anything. Helplessness. Not a feeling I relish.

Previous| Join | Next

Don't Bother Me

2007-09-24T14:45:00.000-07:00
I'm busy scheduling my prime time viewing. . .

I think I'll like Mondays for once in my life. Computer Emergency!!!
Ooooooooooh, Peter Petrelli, looking might fine after the hiatus. . .
Horatio, I *LIVE* for your one-liners!!!

Tuesdays are always good. Brilliant, yet socially inept? Check. Brilliant, socially inept and incomparably SEXY? Check. Outrageously funny? Check.

Wednesdays might be tricky. Can I stand another handsome brunette rake with amazing power? Hmmmmm... Methinks perhaps.

The thinking person's crime drama. But will it be the same, sans Gideon? ("Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father prepare to die.") Oh, Mandy. How could you leave me this way?!

A sexy redhead. How's that for a change?

Thursdays. . . The
fave. The time waster. The so-sublimely-humorous-I-can't-stand-it!!! The other thinking person's crime drama.

Oops, I mean I'll be here!!

Fridays, time to relax. Partake in some unnatural beauty. Seriously, could she be more beautiful?! Who knew Santa's little elf would turn out like this?! Christ, I was a freshman in HS when he was born. It's SO wrong, but it feels so right!!! Thanks a lot,
L.A.!!
Saturday, you *know* I’m sleeping!!! And it's a good thing, because there is NOTHING on. Maybe I'll pretend to have a life on Saturdays.

Or, maybe I'll just get ready for DEXTER. And Shark. Two different kinds of blood suckers.

I think I just might survive until January 2008.

Previous| Join | Next

I Swear, It's The BOOTS!

2007-09-21T16:16:00.000-07:00
That's right - I said BOOTS.

It all started with the change in weather. Autumn is here, despite what all non-SoCal folks say about us not having seasons. I had to turn my fan to the lowest setting, it's getting darker earlier, and I've contemplated returning to sweatpants. Despite my reluctance to let go of the summer, I pulled out The Boots.

Now, these are very special Boots. They are not my everyday, wear with mini-skirts or blue jeans, Sketcher platform workboots, scuffed and scratched from wearing every winter day for the last 3 years. These are Sexy Boots. Hot Boots. Boots that I loved so much from the first time I saw them, I bought TWO pairs. Good thing, too, since someone did something that BROKE one of those Boots. Not that I'm complaining. But that's a story for another time and place.

No, these boots have a 4" skinny heel, a large silver buckle, and silver tacking around the edges. I love these Boots. When I put them on, I am magically transformed to a sexy little beasty. And the powers of these Boots reach far beyond me - I first brought them back out on Wednesday. And lo, I received a call from a friend I haven't heard from in months. Just thinking about me. Co-inky-dink? I don't think so.

On the drive home, I was hit upon by some handsome stranger. Not a(n obvious) freak, not a homeless guy, not a guy for whom English is a second (or non-) language. A good looking, well-spoken, reasonably entertaining gentleman. First time I've enjoyed traffic.

I had such a positive day, that I dared wear The Boots again on Thursday. This time, at lunch, when usually NO ONE dares talk to me (even the people that know me!), I was engaged in conversation with a young (too young) man. And I really think that he was hitting on me as well.

Then I went to Back-To-School night at WMG's school. I don't know about you, but we never had teachers that look like this when I was in school.

Seriously. If he looks this good in pictures taken with a cell phone under covert operating procedures with the Jman acting as cover, then you can imagine how good he looks in person. All that and brains too. (No, he didn't hit on me or nuthin; but come parent-teacher conference time, I'm for sure wearing The Boots again!!!)

Today I'm back to jeans and the Sketchers. That's just too much power to take lightly.

Happy Weekend.

Previous| Join | Next

The Road to Hell...

2007-09-20T16:26:00.001-07:00
Remember that saying? About the good intentions and all?

Well, I've been working really hard on getting back to being sociable, after being a hermit for several months. Don't get me wrong - I *like* being a hermit, but I also recognize that it is important to have social interactions beyond work and immediate family. Other than Wee Monkey Gurl and the Jman, the only other human beings I interact with have been virtual in the last couple of months.

Updating and (ir)regular posting on the blog is a way to force myself back into the swing of things. I love the give and take of the virtual community, and I'm reminded of how supportive and caring the knit community is. Given that, I set a deadline on returning to the WeHo SnB. Even if I don't exchange one word with anyone there, I always feel heartened by the camaraderie and cheer. And everyone knows the best way to accomplish something is to set a firm date.

My date? 06 September 2007.

Ooopsie.

First, there was the excuse of WMG being back home and back in school and last-minute gift finishing. Then, I was sick and it was Rosh Hashanah and. . . some other feeble reason. Now, it's Back-to-School Night, and WMG has her heart set on me being there. THE STARS ARE IN ALIGNMENT AGAINST ME!!!! Seriously. Why does WMG's school HAVE to schedule functions on Thursday nights? When there are SIX OTHER NIGHTS to choose from?

For example, they offer a parenting class periodically. Normally, I wouldn't go for such pseudo-psycho balderdash (I can say that - I got my BS in Psych), but I'm still looking for that "Ah-HAH!" technique with WMG. We all know she's WAAAAAAAAAAAAY more clever than I am, and its only a matter of time before her super powers kick in. Heretofore, the class has been offered at 11am on TUESDAYS. When I say the school is filled with Pilates-lovin', country club founding member, Beverly Hills or Bel Air livin' soccer moms, I ain't kiddin'. DON'T YOU PEOPLE WORK?! Oy.

Finally, this year (WMG's FIFTH), they are offering the class from 7 - 9 pm. Yay. Finally a nod to working stiffs like me.

But guess what night its on?

Yup. Thursday nights.

They suck.

And no, WMG won't even acknowledge me when I get there tonight, but if I had the nerve to NOT SHOW, she would not let me forget it. Sigh.

So, Ladies and Gentlemen, again I say "Definitely next week." Hopefully this time I mean it.

Previous| Join | Next

Warm Neck

2007-09-19T16:09:00.000-07:00
I totally agree - this has been done before (quite nicely, I might add). Free patterns are here and here (plus some really gorgeous shawl pins).

The actual stitch is very similar to this, which is the one scarf I really want to do. Some day. I mean, after all, I already have the yarn...

Previous| Join | Next

Duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuude.

2007-09-19T10:49:00.000-07:00
Really. Too bad the $375 "pidge" is sold out. If I tried to gift one of these, folks would ask, "where's the rest of my scarf?!" Granted, they are pretty, but I just can't see it. Of course, that may explain why I'll never be upper crusty. Even if I had the money.

Previous| Join | Next

Random Updates

2007-09-18T13:27:00.001-07:00

(fuzzy cell phone pic to prove I was there. For pix much more in focus, go to Ellen's blog, natch.)

By the curious turn of events on Friday/Saturday, I ended up going to see the Harlot on Saturday afternoon, when I *should* have been at the baby shower. Initially, I primarily intended to support my gurl, Ellen, who was doing the introduction (and did a bang up job, I must say!!)

I know Stephanie from her blog, which is, in turn, amusing and insightful and inspiring, and I even thought to enter the Knitting Olympics a couple of years ago (I still haven't finished the sweater that is 7/8ths complete!) Heck, anyone that advocates drunken knitting has got to be okay. But I had no idea that woman is friggin HI-LARIOUS!!! It was like watching funny stand-up for 2 hours (I'm usually not terribly amused at comedy clubs). Something about that Canadian accent. I can't explain it, but I laughed my arse off.

Anyone that can command an audience of several hundred(??) (my powers of estimation are lacking), then spend over an hour afterward signing books, and still come off as gracious and humble, has got to be okay in my book.

Dillon (the baby who wouldn't wait) made his innerweb appearance today.

Whatta doll. You wouldn't know by looking he was a month early!

In case you were wondering, Pico Avenue is the place to find your sukkah.

Sure, they probably don't have power tools, but you want palm fronds?! They got 'em!!!

Also, it's the place for "HI" fashion.

As in: If you think this is fashionable, you must be HI.

Previous| Join | Next

The Baby Shower is THIS Weekend?!

2007-09-14T09:15:00.000-07:00
Oh, SHITTAKE MUSHROOMS!!! Well, I guess Baby Dillon won't be getting a matching cap or pants, like I'd imagined. But concentrated work got him a little sum-sum finished last nite:

Ohhhhh! How CUTE!!!!!!

A close-up of the sweater

A close up of the elly-fantagos. Pattern found here.

The sweater is just a generic baby sweater pattern. Since Boys don't get the fun, crazy colors or textures Girls do (sorry, all my gender-shouldn't-dictate-color friends; these are very conservative, vanilla friends), I stuck with garter stitch for texture, and used some organic cotton I had in the stash (yay me!) I'm thinking Dillon's Mom can just toss this in the washer and lay flat to dry (the ends are knotted and weaved in). Anyone have an opinion on that?

To make it more unique (how do you catch a special rabbit? U-nique up on it!! How do you catch a trained rabbit? Da TAME way!!!), I made a pair of ellies. When I saw the pattern (thank you, knitting pattern central!!!), I knew I had to make 'em. They are just too danged cute. For the baby elly, I used one strand o' cotton in the sage color, and for the momma, I used one sage, one off-white, and larger needles (prolly about US7s). There was a lot of sewing involved, which I generally don't like (especially under a tight deadline), but at least I got to practice my kitchener. WOOT!!! Eyes are some purple Microspun just embroidered in.

It really is much cuter in person than in poorly-lit cellphone camera, so I think I'm okay. Too bad the shower is out in, like, ENCINO, which to my Valley-challenged mind is the same as Ventura or Ojai. Mapquest says it should take 25 minutes, so maybe an HOUR and a HALF later, I'll be there.

Hmmm... I wonder if that's anywhere near the yarn store in Chatsworth that is having a sale....

Ed. to Add: Just got this in the e-mail. Doesn't it just figure, after I ditched SnB AGAIN, and stayed up late finishing:

NEWS FLASH! NEWS FLASH! D's baby shower is being postponed! I guess little baby Dillon really didn't want to miss the shower so he decided to make his grand entrance this morning! he is 1 month premature but doing great! We'll plan to have the shower sometime in November so baby Dillon can attend too. We'll keep you posted! Thanks and CONGRATULATIONS to D, R and (big sister) L!!!!!

Guess he's getting the cap after all.

Previous| Join | Next

What Next?!

2007-09-12T16:20:00.000-07:00
I am so sick of construction, I may actually pop a vessel. Seriously. I think the demo started on our office buildings. . . what, maybe 3 or 4 years ago? And they ARE STILL BUILDING. First, they put up the new CAA building, which doesn't look drastically different from the previously-existing building, but I *know* its a whole new building because we had to live through the demo and build-up. [Actually, I almost died during it - a spike came flying off the demo one day when I was out knitting, and narrowly missed my head. For reals. It crashed into the bank glass wall about five feet away and shattered it.] It's like that old Steven Wright joke - The other day somebody stole everything in my apartment and replaced it with an exact replica... When my roommate came home I said, "Roommate, someone stole everything in our apartment and replaced it with an exact replica." He looked at me and said, "Do I know you?"

I LOVE Steven Wright. I HATE the construction.

First they took away my little plaza where I could sit and knit and read or whatever, and fenced it off. Then they replaced it with a restaurant. Then they took away the restaurant, fenced it off again, and completely tore up the area, so I couldn't even borry the outside tables and chairs. Finally, they opened up a little "park like" area (their description, not mine), which would be okay, but the tables and chairs they have there are cafe-type, with little, tiny feet, which don't work so well with the rolling landscaping. But I *was* getting used to it, when I came out today and was confronted with this.

I tell you, I was seriously close to going postal when I first saw it. But then I noticed that some of the folks that were working on it had on "event staff" shirts.

PHEW. It's only an Emmy Party!!!! Hell, they could have Ryan fricking Seacrest here and I don't mind, as long as it will go away fairly quickly.

Because they still have another good year or two to go to finish rebuilding our lobby, which looks suspiciously similar to the previous lobby. Only different.

Oh, and yesterday's post? It was indeed curling ribbon knit with sharpened pencils (which I think are about US8s). It turned out surprisingly loverly. I'm thinking about doing it again, with beads...

Ed. to Note: CRAP. Looks like there's even MORE CONSTRUCTION lurking in my future. And also? We're "blighted". I've lived in this area for 10 years, and I didn't even know that. With that kind of reputation, you'd think I could get a 2-BR for less than $2k/month!

Previous| Join | Next

Does This Look Infected?

2007-09-10T15:06:00.000-07:00
Or, Do You Think I Need Professional Help?

Knitters are an odd bunch. Seriously. And I often feel I'm the oddest of them all. Today, for instance.

Due to circumstances not quite being back to normal (whatever THAT is!), I forgot to bring my knitting with me today. Those that know me (even the non-knitters) know that I do not leave the house without some form of knitting. And at "lunch", there are two things I do - I read, and I knit (not necessarily in that order). If I don't do both, I get a little nutso.

If I forget my current reading material, no biggie. I can print something off the i-net (thank you, Al Gore!!!) If I forget to do that, I have been seen reading electric bills or some other printed detritus that has collected in my bag.

But if I forget my knitting. . . Well, we joke about stash enhancement, yarn enablers, and even crack silk haze. But at what point does a hobby become a habit? I think I've passed that by leaps and bounds.

And seriously? It's all I can do to not bring this home and finish it tonite.

Previous| Join | Next

Scene Around L.A.

2007-08-10T14:28:00.000-07:00
I guess it's true what they say:

No one needs the Maytag Repairman (scroll to the bottom for a link to the old, OLD commercials) anymore.

Also? If you're into it, they will be filming Will Smith's latest movie nearby (actually, right between FatCatLawFirm and the Cube Farm!) tomorrow. I have a make-up class for my training (hey, firemen. Yay!), so I can't be there, but if you're in the area, it will be filming on Avenue of the Stars in front of the Hyatt Regency Century Plaza Hotel at the corner of Avenue of the Stars and Constellation.

Happy Weekend.

Previous| Join | Next

You Guessed It!

2007-08-06T16:17:00.000-07:00
Yes, yes, yes. That was a description of my love, the Artist. He's my music boyfriend, not to be confused with J. Depp, my real boyfriend. Or Clive (my manly boyfriend). Or, really, all my other boyfriends. I'm such a huzzy.

Well, it's official. As of Saturday, August 4th, exactly ONE MONTH after she left me, I was undeniably sad and longing for my baby gurl. Funny, I didn't know it was the month marker (sleeping through the day will affect you that way). But I was on the phone with WMG for our nightly call, and it just hit me like a ton of bricks. [For those that don't know the story, she basically made a deal with the devil (or at least her grandparents) to go to Hawaii for two months. Since I was in the throes of heartache from the death of my Jagger-girl, I stupidly agreed. Maybe in a few years we'll see it as a good decision, but I think we need the amelioratory passage of time.]

The first week or two, I was stressed out trying to get her to not be homesick, which was not easy to do telephonically. And her g-parents weren't much help, being of the we-don't-acknowledge-much-less-SHOW-emotion variety. Her acclimation came in fits and starts, and I think if the g-rents were more consistent in keeping their promises (to get her into classes and interacting with people her age) it would have gone more smoothly, but perhaps that's just as well. Since, being stressed over the late night admonishing calls from her grandfather ("I don't know what you said to make her so upset!"), and the early morning plaintive calls from WMG ("I miss you, Momma. I wanna come HOME!!!"), I was so busy being angry and frustrated that I didn't have time to be sad.

The following two weeks were chaotic for me, both here at FatCatLawFirm - big boss went to the South of France (you *have* to say it that way; you can't say "southern France" or "France down south") and that always means extra work for me, and personally (much delayed dental visits, including a tooth extraction. LOVELY. Oh, and the highly-coveted Solo Picking Up of Jagger's Remains), so I didn't have time to reflect on how much I missed her.

Saturday night, during our nightly phone call, she was playing a tune for me on an old flute from my childhood. Just being her silly, creative, wonderful self, and I just started bawling like a baby. I'm such an emotional wreck. It seems like I'm crying my eyes out for one reason or another almost every other week these days. Considering I didn't cry ONCE from the age of 8 (I remember the exact day) until I gave birth (at age 34), that is way too much for my liking.

But, at least I know I'm human and that I am immeasurably proud of my WMG. She has been such a trooper, and, other than homesickness WHICH IS APPROPRIATE FOR AN 8-YEAR OLD, DAD, she has handled herself with a maturity far beyond her years. I can't wait to see her, hug her, and zzzerbert her belly until she pees herself.

Speaking of maturity beyond chronological age, check out my Baby O - she's been taking lessons, and apparently, some of the moms were outraged to find out there was a 3 year old in the class (usual age range is 5 - 10 years). Problem is, they didn't know which one was the 3 y/o, except for the fact that she was better behaved and more practiced than their (older) kids. Hee-hee. I wonder how they'd feel if they found out she won't be three until November!!!!!

Previous| Join | Next

I Love This Man

2007-08-02T10:25:00.001-07:00
Can you tell who they are describing?

But, lest there be any doubt as to why this show has been so anticipated, why fans held Minneapolis immobile last month prior to a gig, or why people spray themselves here with bottles of his new scent, it is this. The man is sex, sex, sex. He could power a small town with the sexual wattage he projects from his pinkies alone. At times, it's overwhelming. Each insouciant flick of the hand, each backward glance, each vowel is directed at each and every person. Where most pop stars "wanna make love" to their audience, {} lets you know he would give you a good seeing to - and then some.

Brilliant.

Previous| Join | Next

From the Mundane to the Sublime

2007-07-30T12:17:00.000-07:00
Finished reading HP7. I was very sad when it ended. I am quite satisfied with the way everything went - very much true to the story - but I was just sad. It's like saying goodbye to a good friend.

Saw HP5. This was my least favorite of the books, and as it turns out, probably my least favorite of the movies. Still, the special effects and individual performances were spectacular.

I went baby-visiting, which very nearly turned into baby-napping. Gawd, this kid is cute (what kid izzint?!) But he was teething and kept sucking on my shoulder, which made him that much more endearing.

Previous| Join | Next

You Have *GOT* To Watch This

2007-07-26T10:39:00.000-07:00
Trust me. It's worth it. Concentrate on the first couple they interview.

American Girl Interview

Previous| Join | Next

Hey.

2007-07-23T14:00:00.000-07:00
How are ya? Did ya have a good weekend? Mine was not so bad.

Since it was *SO FRIGGIN HOT*, I considered going boating with an old friend.

I hate to get up that early, so I almost didn't go. But he somehow managed to entice me with a game of "Who's-Yer-Pirate".

At least he's wearing that hat I made him.

Previous| Join | Next

Queen Vic

2007-07-17T11:55:00.001-07:00
Hey! How are you! Where have you been?!

Okay, let's see by a show of hands who of you watched Posh's new show?? C'mon, be honest. Liar.

Well, I watched it. It had the same kind of perverse attraction for me as, say, a multi-car accident, with decapitation, or a Discovery Channel special on how someone carried their own undeveloped twin in their abdomen or something. You have to admit, Mz. Beckham *is* fascinating. All skinny with big boobs and legs that go on and on and on. Plus, I'm getting a little bored with the whole Paris/Brittney/Lindsay debacle.

To be honest, I liked her a lot more than I would have expected. She's classy (at least what she lets us see of her; don't think I'm totally smitten!), enthusiastic, and quite an oddity. I *like* that she dresses for the paparazzi (SP?); at least she doesn't try to pretend like she doesn't want the attention. She seems like she'd be wicked fun to hang out with, but just wicked to cross.

Go on, admit it. You like her too.

Previous| Join | Next

Do You Remember. . .

2007-07-16T15:51:00.001-07:00
There was a movie, probably from the '70's (that's the 1970's, WMG), where the olives had to be picked before the monsoon hit? I have no idea what that movie is about, who was in it, or what it is called, but for some reason it's been teasing my brain a LOT lately.

It would lessen my insanity quite a bit if you could he'p a sistah out.

Previous| Join | Next

Check out this site

2007-07-12T14:37:00.000-07:00
I don't usually do this, but the work this man does is amazing. It is the first thing I have seen that is befitting my angel baby.

As you can imagine, the fees for his work is not cheap. It's kinda like someone commissioning a hand-knit sweater -- if you charged a reasonable rate, say, $25/hour, plus supplies, the price would be exorbitant, which is why most of us wouldn't even consider it.

Still. I think Jaggers is worth the price.

I'm picking up Jagger's remains today, and will be a gelatinous puddle of emotion by the time I get home.

Previous| Join | Next

2 Busy 2 Post

2007-07-10T10:01:00.001-07:00
Life is tough (still) - WeeMonkeyGurl is terribly homesick, the Grandparents don't know how to handle her, and I haven't had time to post. Bad, bad me.

But, in the style of knit bloggers everywhere, I give you kitty pictures.

This is the Bucket (it's a long story). . . And yes, we still have not fully moved in to our new place. Shuddup. It's too hot.

And this is the Bucket's girlfriend.

How do I know that she's his girlfriend? They hang out together on the porch when the humans aren't around, she eats all his food (yet maintains her delicate figure), and when he comes anywhere within her personal space, she hisses and spits at him.

On second thought, I think they went to Vegas and are now married.

Previous| Join | Next

Thinkin Happy Thoughts

2007-06-27T12:19:00.001-07:00
I have determined there is an interesting phenomenon that occurs in nearly every subculture (forgive me if I am late to the party - I’m not much for human interaction and avoid it if at all possible). I found this to be true when I first took up knitting.

First of all, I was surprised to find there even *was* a knitting subculture, complete with it’s own gods and gurus, superstitions and common practices, vernacular and vocabulary, and levels of hierarchy, whether real or perceived. Honestly, who knew?! Thank GORE for the innerwebs, or else I would have been terribly ill-prepared.

Who am I kidding? I was terribly ill-prepared.

And I am finding that the microcosm of dog rescue organizations is very similar. There are protocols and procedures, terminology and nomenclature, and levels of acceptance or ridicule, whether warranted or not.

Like yarn stores, there are rescue organizations that make you feel insipid, unknowing and completely unworthy of their assistance. They are the self-appointed, sanctimonious, snobby, smug sh*tholes that really are there to make themselves feel good. Sure, they will sell you the goods, but they are the type that will convince a newbie that what s/he really needs is a $30 silk ribbon skein of yarn and Crystal Palace US19’s - and then mock him or her as s/he walks out of the store. We all have been to a store or two locally that fits that bill, and some of us refuse to go to certain stores because of the way they treat their customers. (As a side note, I’ve found that, like rescues, once someone starts talking about a negative experience, there comes a lot of “me too!!”s.)

There are the stores that let you know that they are there to help, then let you go about your yarn fondling without making you feel as though you are obligated to purchase the most expensive item in the shop. Same with rescues - there are those that say, “Hey, here’s what we have, we’d really like it if you’d consider one of our dogs, and we’re here to answer any questions you might have.” The bulk of yarn stores are like that. Nice and friendly, not stand-offish and snobby. Helpful but not overbearing. Those are the stores I frequent.

And then there are the rescues that make you feel like you’ve come home. They welcome you, give you a hug and ask how you’ve been. They invite you to have a seat, put your feet up, and oh, it’s so hot today, would you like a glass of lemonade? You feel the kindred spirit and you know that even if you walk out with absolutely no purchases, you will be welcomed back the next time you’re there.

I went to one of THOSE kind of stores last weekend.

The timing couldn’t be better - I had braved Hollywood traffic, complete with street closures for a demonstration, to meet some rescue doggies. The experience there was less than enviable. As we were heading toward the yarn store I had heard much about, I turned to the Jman and said, “If this turns out to be one of those bitchy yarn stores, I am going to cry.” Plain and simple.

I'm HOT. And TIRED. And CRANKY. STOP LOOKING AT ME!

Driving eastward on Los Feliz, one of my most favoritist streets in LA, my spirits were buoyed somewhat. But I was not going to allow myself to feel hopeful. I had my mapquest directions in hand, and WMG in the backseat, and the sun was shining and traffic was moving and good tunes were on the radio. It could possibly turn out well.

The directions took me off the main street and into the warren of Eagle Rock/Highland Park/East LA. I love the area, it just feels ALIVE with ART and COLOR and VIBRANCY, but I thought the directions were incorrect, or I had missed a turn, because it appeared we were venturing into the convoluted streets of residential housing. But then, I saw it: The Big Red Barn. But, no. That couldn’t be it. . . could it?! To the side of the BRB was a colorful, wild and wonderful day care/pre-school, and I remarked to the Jman that if we had lived on the East Side when WMG was really wee, that was the kind of place I’d like to take her.

So we parked, and slo-o-o-o-o-o-owly made our way to the entrance on the side of the BRB. There were two lovely pups, noisily announcing our arrival. . . There, on the fence, was a picture of the legendary Hissy kitty. PHEW. We were in the right place.

HI! YOU'RE HERE!!! YAY YOU!!!

Still feeling like we were maybe invading someone’s private space, we cautiously ventured up the stairs when I spotted - BASKETS OF YARN. Huzzah!! We *were* in the right place. Soon thereafter, I met amiable Annie, who is very well versed in the world of yarn. But first, she offered us (me, the Jman and WMG) a glass of lemonade.

Whilest I shopped, and WMG rested, the Jman was surprisingly entertained by Annie’s BF/SO/Husband/PoolBoy. I say surprisingly, because, having been to a shop or two with me and WMG a few times before, he’d been bored out of his mind (which really isn’t difficult), but this time he had company. MAN company! Then another customer came in, and we all talked about politics (!!!), education, culture and pretty much everything that came to our collective mind. We had such a great time.
You're on the eastside?! You need color. COLOR!!!

These are begging to be felted slippers, doncha think?!

I think I'll make something Autummummy.

I can’t stress enough how nice the BRB is. It is well stocked with all the necessary yarns and quite a few of the extravagant ones. There are books galore, and a few needles, notions and whatnot. Although it is quite a ways from our every day path, it is worth the drive, especially if there is a weekend class you are interested in. (For example, the celebrated Charle Lee will be doing some dying classes there soon, and they have a clapotis class and many more classes to come.) Annie is extremely knowledgeable and helpful and entertaining, and it’s a beautiful property. When you go, be sure to check out the amazing floormats that were made by Annie and her son and the “pagan alter”, formerly known as her grandfather’s desk.

[Annecdotally, when Annie was showing us one of her beautiful cabinets, I remarked, "Nice Nobs," because I am 12. And do you know what she did?? She LAUGHED! You don't get that kind of reaction (if any at all) in those snobbery snores, er, I mean, STORES.]
HEMP yarn (at 1/2 price). I'm thinking something for the Grandmother, you know, for when she goes through the airport security checks with the drug-sniffing dogs. . .

Even le WMG did a little "stash enhancement"

After a very entertaining 1.5 hours, good conversation and excellent company, I was lucky to leave with change in my pocket (Annie has a *great* sale going on) and a spring in my step. She definitely resuscitated an otherwise crushing day.

Oh, and the daycare center? Turns out that’s Annie’s superpower - she’s a daycare provider by week day, and a superior yarn shop proprietor by evening and weekends.

Previous| Join | Next

Crrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrazy House Guest!

2007-06-19T11:53:00.001-07:00
We have a house guest. I picked her up last nite in Venice, where she had traveled to from Valencia, and previously from Las Vegas. Jman and WMG are taking her to San Diego tomorrow. Girl gets around!

Her name is (now) Pockets.

She's a happy gurl.

She's kinda crazy.

Pockets is a rescued doggie from a construction site in Las Vegas. She is the sweetest, goofiest, most amusing little dynamo. She's going to her "forever" home in San Diego, which, fortunately, is the home of Baby O! and Steven, so we'll get to visit her. WMG is already enamored, but Pockets is a little too "high energy" for our family. To quote her original rescuer, "This little girl is a solid bundle of energy, who has NO problem jumping 4ft straight up!!" True dat - she tried to get at my salad last nite!!! AND SHE EATS VEGETABLES (or at least, lettuce and cucumber). How weird is that?!

When I brought her home last nite, WMG had her heart set on sleeping with her, so after I read WMG a story (and Pockets settled down), I waited for WMG to fall asleep. Jman came to WMG's room to tell me he was going somewhere, and Pockets totally protected her - barking at him like a maddog from the bed. Which, of course, woke the WMG up, so I had to lie down with her a little while longer. After she was asleep again, I snuck out of the bed. It wasn't until I was opening the door that Pockets got up. She scratched at the door a little bit, but then went back to bed with WMG. An hour or so later, I decided I should let her out, so I came and got her. Took her to the yard, she did her business, then came back to the door and scratched. Like, "I'm done!" So I put her back in WMG's room. She wanted to be with us so she whined once. I shushed her. She whined one more time. I shushed her again. And that was the last I heard from her. When I went in this a.m., she was sleeping in bed with the WMG. And I know WMG got up at least once to turn down the fan in her room, so she had NO problem with Pockets.

Jman and MEWP took her to the bus stop, which I know THRILLED WMG, and then when she came back, she was all hyped up (she LOVES herself some chillinz). She found an empty water bottle, and was running it all over the place like a dervish. It would slip from her jaws, so she'd kick it, attack it, then run again. I ended up taking it away only b/c I was afraid she chew it up (and eat some of it) when I was in the shower. When I was getting ready in the bathroom, she'd run from WMG's room to my room, to WMG's room, to the kitchen - it was like The Pockets & Pockets Show. :)

Her only "thing" (other than being on crack) is she tends to be a little aggressive with other doggies. Of course, the several that we met on our walk were aggressive toward her, so it was not untoward.

I feel good about having Pockets visit, because I can love her and not feel like I'm betraying the memory of Jaggers. They are *completely* different personalities, and love of one doesn't affect the other. I know, this may seem obvious, but it took actually experiencing it to make it real for me.

I think I might actually make it through this.

We'll be puppy-sitting for the next two weeks, but that doesn't really count as "recovery" because she's family.

Previous| Join | Next

Welcome to The Family

2007-06-15T11:45:00.000-07:00
Wa-Wa-Nessa!!

After nearly a year, the adoption is final. Wa-wa-nessa is OFFICIALLY a part of the family.

Best Pal #2 Ellie and her husband, Lou-Lou, unable to have kids of their own, finally decided to go the adoption route. Man, it was painful. And long. And difficult. Because if there is a more prepared person to become a mom, I haven't met her. Ellie's undergrad degree is in child development. She started her own company that now employs 33 people, including her husband. She comes from a large, loving, very close family. As a matter of fact, her parents finally made the move from Ohio (Iowa? Indiana?) and live a block away (that's Pops in the background). But all that didn't make the process any easier.

Like most couples, they *thought* they would adopt a baby, and they wanted a biracial child (Ellie's Puerto Rican, Lou-Lou's Black). She had the "room" all made up with crib, changing table, murals, etc., but its funny how life sometimes takes a turn. They met Wa-Wa (my nickname for her). That child has the same sense of humor and personality and . . . presence as both Ellie and Lou-Lou. Of course, it was love at first sight.

Early into the process, Wa-Wa was introduced to the inner sanctum (Ellie, Doug, Andrea and I) and our respective families. She fit in like she had been raised by us.

I love Wa-Wa. She has been through some sh*t in her life, but she finally found her forever family and knows it. Sometimes it takes a little longer - I didn't meet mine until I was in my 30's. :) But they are *so* worth the wait!

And, speaking of families, THANK YOU to all my wonderful friends that have expressed their sympathy, empathy and understanding about everything that's happened in the last month. It's been a rough patch, but there's a light at the end of the tunnel (which is probably a freight train racing toward me), and I really appreciate the support I've gotten. Even if the forum is virtual, the comfort is real.

Previous| Join | Next

Gotta Love the Monkeyz

2007-06-13T15:00:00.000-07:00
Speaking of being a smarty-farty, did I mention WeeMonkeyGurl is spending TWO MONTHS in Hawaii?! I swear, that child will be some sort of elected official. She's not particularly book smart, but she is pretty savvy for an 8-year old.

When going to her guitar recital last Monday night, accompanied by the Grandparents and the Jman (Momma Monkey was too worn out by the festivities of the weekend to attend), she asked the G-rents, "So. . . when are you going back to Hawaii? Can I come?"

Of course, the G-rents were all over that in a heartbeat. As the only g-child in existence and likely the only one ever, they are more than ever devoted to her. The Jman had to step in and say that Momma first had to be consulted.

Well, given my reacquaintance with the notion that "life is short" and "know when to let go", I said, "What the heck." They love her, they will take care of her, and maybe even arrange for some things I can't afford, like a tutor or specialty classes she can't get from her summer camp. Since they were agreeable to all that (they have secured the services of a 3rd/4th grade teacher to tutor her and enrolled her in both hula and ukelele (ELLEN!) lessons), I was agreeable to letting her stay for a longer period of time. Turns out two months is not unreasonable.

Hey, if I was able to choose between spending the nastiest, grimiest months in Smellay or in Hawaii, I know which one I'd choose.

Speaking of cute little monkeys, here are some obligatory pix of this past weekend. Steven turned 5 and had his Star Wars-themed birthday party on Saturday.
Birthday Vader with wee sister Olivia as Princess Leia

My beautiful Baby O with a suitably-costumed Gus-Gus

WMG with Baby O as "twin" Princess Leias

Leia v. Tank Gurl (Can you believe the barbie in the background was on her cell phone the *entire* time?!) (and yes, I know Tank Girl is a different movie, but I *love* Tank Girl, and it's set in the future and I had the makings of the costume in my closet, and. . .)

Bday Vader's BFF and *SINGLE* father

I guess the grown-ups weren't supposed to dress up. . .Ooops.

Another Leia who desperately wants to be Bday Vader's girl friend, but. . .

How can she compete with Bday Vader's *real* girlfriend?!

Obligatory Cute Baby shot

And it's true -

The Nice Gurls *always* love the BAD BOYZ.

In the words of CAP,

Tank Gurl rockin' the Mini.

Fortunately, no pictures exist of the a-dolts partaking of the Jedi-Juice - equal parts lemonade and vodka, which WMG pronounces "WAHD-ka". I think she's been exposed to too many cocktail hours. . .

Previous| Join | Next

Ah, The Week's End

2007-06-11T11:53:00.001-07:00
Well, it's been a bit over a week, and although the uncontrollable, heaving, body-wracking sobs have subsided, I still sometimes feel socked in the stomach and an unbearable ache of sadness. Really. This has been harder than ANY break up or death or anything I've ever experienced, and I've been through a LOT.

However, lest you think me morose beyond repair, let me share with you an annecdote of the Wee Monkeygurrl. Jag went down on friday, early afternoon. Jman and I decided not to mention anything to WMG because she had a big weekend - four performances of her school play, culminating with a big dinner celebrating her grandfather's birthday. The Gparents, my 3 brothers, Jman and one sister-in-law were to attend the final performace of the play. 2 brothers and the sister-in-law weenied-out of the play at the last minute, but the fabulous Uncle Douggles stepped up to the plate, driving up from San Diego on Sunday to watch the show. He's the best.

Anyway, WMG did not mention Jag for the entirety of the weekend. Not unusual, as she's mostly focused on herself. Monday night was her guitar recital, which the grandparents were attending. G-mutha asked about Jag whilst WMG was getting ready, but I told her we weren't talking about it in front of WMG yet.

Cut to Tuesday morning, everything's chaotic as I get her packed for school. She asked her dad something, and he went into the kitchen, bawling, mumbling "Ask your mom." Wuss. She looked directly at me and asked, "Where is Jag?"

I sat her down; I patiently explained how Jag was hurt and old and there wasn't anything the vet could do to make her better, so we put her to sleep. My heart was breaking; Jman was snivelling in the back of the house; the tension was so thick you could feel it.

WMG responded, "Oh." Small pout. "Well, can we get a new little doggie - you know, to make YOU feel better?"

That's my girl. So resilient. So strong, so psychotic. She was hitting me up for a little purse pooch before Jag even got sick, there was an opportunity, and she took it. You gotta admire panache like that!

Previous| Join | Next

My Angel Baby

2007-06-05T12:50:00.000-07:00

I remember the first time I set eyes on Jag. Jman and I had been dating for a few weeks, and he mentioned his brother’s dog had puppies. We were "just going to visit" them. After a nearly 2 hour drive (they live in the COUNTRY), we were glad to be out of the car. Eight rambunctious tan and brown pups came tumbling over each other to meet us. They were all paws and tummies and wiggly butts. One pup stood back, surveying the scene, a slight disdain registering on her face. Like her mom, she was solid black. The only one. She was smaller than her brothers and sisters, but she had wisdom they would never understand. It was love at first sight.

Although she didn’t run away from us, neither did she make herself readily available. She was always just a few steps away. When it came time for us to leave, knowing I would take her home with me, we tried everything to capture her. Coaxing with food, sneaking up from opposite sides, pretending like we didn’t care if she came near. Ultimately, Jman had to climb under his brother’s house to the den her mom had made and hand her up to me. She taught me that if there is something worth having, it’s worth working for.

For the first six months, as I waited for my current lease to expire, she was “fostered” at Jman’s mom’s house during the week, where she learned to cha-cha and appreciate good food. She taught me that you can love your caregiver, but still love your mom the most.

After I moved to a pet-friendly place, we started training in earnest. She was so smart and learned so quickly. She behaved like a dream on leash and off. We loved to walk to the dog park, where she would run around like the fastest animal on earth, and always come when I called. She loved meeting new doggies and would always be considerate of those smaller than her. We were inseparable - anywhere I could be found, she would be right there with me. I was single, living alone, and she was the best friend a girl could have. She didn’t hog the bed. And I never left her alone overnight. She taught me it was okay to be obligated to someone other than yourself.

I went on vacation and the Jman stayed with her. She was not happy with me. She managed to pull all the stuffing out of my couch cushions through the zippers she had opened. She taught me that you can be angry with someone you love, express that anger, but not let it destroy the relationship. Or the furniture.

I always wanted a LARGE dog, but everyone said she'd barely clear 40 lbs. She had been the runt of the litter and her mom wasn't more than 60. My gurl grew to be 105lbs, fighting weight. She taught me to never underestimate the runt.

I got her a cat to keep her company. She still loved me.

When the Jman and I decided (quite on a whim) to get married, she stood up for me. She was the only witness and the only one who bothered to get dressed up. She taught me that Las Vegas wasn’t ALL bad.

We moved to LA. She was the only friend I had here, and she kept me from going crazy. I started a new job in a new city with no friends, and I wasn’t even sure I wanted to stay married. The next thing we knew, I was pregnant. My life was in complete and absolute turmoil. The one constant was the J-Dawg, who could be counted on to welcome me home, act as if I were the only thing in the world that mattered, and love me regardless. Long walks and trips to the dog park helped me learn the city, make some friends and clear my head. She taught me that LA wasn’t ALL bad.

As my belly expanded, she was relegated to the floor or couch. She could no longer share my bed. And when the baby came, she wasn’t even allowed in the bedroom, given my hyper paranoia about the newborn and my lack of any kind of support. She never gave me a hard time about it. She taught me that sometimes you have to let the ones you love make mistakes.

Finding housing with a dog is hard. Finding housing with a large dog in LA is extremely difficult. But it is not impossible. Three times since then we have had to move, and each time she went through it without being underfoot, insecure or clingy. I couldn’t imagine being one of those people who look to “re-home” their pets because the new place won’t take them. She taught me that commitment is permanent, not just when it’s convenient.

As we both grew older and more out-of-shape, she was content with shorter walks and less frequent visits to the dog park. She wasn’t as excited to meet new doggies, although she never got aggressive. She still would welcome me home, every day, with the helicopter tail wag (patented - it would go around in a complete circle) and a monologue of how her day went, what she and her cat did (sleep), and how much she loved me. She would do things just to amuse me, and when she knew there was little she could do, she would just be there for me. When the monkeychild got in trouble, Jaggers would slink away, to her time-out place, hoping that would satisfy me. When the Jman was being yelled at, she would do the same thing. She taught me that harsh words can hurt more than the intended recipient.

The most recent move was difficult; it was near impossible to find a place we could afford that would accept a large dog and wasn’t a complete dump. We were turned down twice (the second time *right* before we were to sign the lease), but it all turned out okay, because we found a place that had a little yard out front. Jaggers could lie in the grass and get a suntan (one of her favorite things to do). There are some privacy hedges, and a gate, so I didn’t have to be with her constantly to make sure she didn’t bother anybody, and that nobody bothered her. Yet, we did have a few good afternoons together; she would sun herself while I sat on the patio and knitted. In the heart of the ‘hood, she taught me the meaning of “idyllic”.

Although she had occasionally had a limp in the past, it usually would go away without much trouble. The vet never found anything and just attributed it to old age, and the occasional tweak of a ligament or tendon. Since I’ve suffered from similar ailments, I didn’t worry too much about it. Perhaps I should have. This time, her injury didn’t heal. And her face and head became hyper sensitive. Several trips to the vet, pain meds and anti-inflammatory meds weren’t helping. As much as she wanted to go lie in the grass, she had difficulty managing the three little steps to our house. She couldn’t even eat without crying in pain. She taught me that someone else’s pain can break your heart.

The final trip to the vet was distressing; she had lost 20 pounds in one month and could barely get up from lying down. I had always sworn I would not be “one of those people” who unnecessarily extend my life just because I could. It is my personal believe that people are living a lot longer and in much more dire circumstances that we should, and that we just aren’t designed to live that long. With the few exceptions of 100 year olds that are in perfect physical and mental health, 70 is a good age. 80 is great, if you can swing it. But I personally don’t want to be kept alive by drugs and machines. And I certainly didn't want my beautiful angel to go through that just because I couldn't bear to let her go. She taught me that sometimes, you have to act on your beliefs.

When it was time for her to go, it was just me and the vet. Jaggers was ready, and she accepted it with the grace and dignity I’ve come to expect from her. She has taught me that you can hurt more than you have ever hurt before and still continue to function.

I miss my girl. I miss her big brown eyes and her velvet ears. I miss her silly eyebrow expressions. I miss the white patch of ultra-soft fur on the back of her paw that reminds me of the filling of an oreo cookie. I miss her smell and warmth. I miss her welcoming me home and begging for treats. I can’t imagine ever not missing her, but I can imagine her teaching me that she’s chasing bunnies and dancing with Nana and nothing hurts, and that’s a good thing. But I expect it will take a while before I really believe that.

Previous| Join | Next

To My Five Loyal Readers

2007-04-04T10:33:00.000-07:00
I'm taking a break. Much like nearly EVERYONE else, this is an almost overwhelming time for me, and I won't have much time or inclination for blogging. Hopefully, things will be more settled by the end of the month.

In the meantime, I will be visiting you on the ether, and trying to make it to Thursday nite SnBs. And if you really want your ovaries to ache, check out these kidvids.

Ring of fire (definitely worth the wait for the Big Finish

Folsom Prison (he knows words to songs I've never even heard)

Take a load of fanny take one

take a load off fanny take two (a job so nice, he sung it twice!)

Baby got back (always cuter when sung by a 4 year old)

you are my sushine take one (so precious)

you are my sunshine take two (so. . . loud)

Previous| Join | Next

If You Live in THE VALLEY

2007-03-30T14:32:00.000-07:00

You can always bunk up at my place. 'Cuz you aint getting home tonite.

Previous| Join | Next

Sigh.

2007-03-29T12:52:00.000-07:00
Ah LURVES heeeeim.

Check it out

Previous| Join | Next

At Least SOMEONE Cares About Me

2007-03-28T16:00:00.000-07:00
And my advancing ennui (gawd, I *love* email):

From: Monkey Gurrl
Sent: Wednesday, March 28, 2007 3:45 PM
To: Monkey Gurrl’s Friends @ Work
Subject: I'm Bored.

I dare one of you (or all of you) to pull the fire alarm. Or call in a bomb threat.
-MG

-----Original Message-----

From: MGF@W #1
Sent: Wednesday, March 28, 2007 3:49 PM
To: Everyone
Subject: RE: I'm Bored.

I'm bored too, but I don't want to file down the stairs of the building. Instead, why don't you strip naked, walk into Administrator’s office scratching yourself and shoving pennies up your nose and tell her you might need to go home soon because you have bugs on you?

-----Original Message-----

From: MG
Sent: Wednesday, March 28, 2007 3:50 PM
To: MGFs@W
Subject: RE: I'm Bored.

I can see where that would entertain me, but what about you?!

-----Original Message-----

From: MGF@W #1
Sent: Wednesday, March 28, 2007 3:52 PM
To: Everyone
Subject: RE: I'm Bored.

I'll happen to passing by her office at the precise moment, with a cake on my head, walking Suri Cruise on a red velvet leash. So I'll see it all.

-----Original Message-----
From: MGF@W #2
Sent: Wednesday, March 28, 2007 3:53 PM
To: Everyone
Subject: RE: I'm Bored

Y'all are crazy.

Previous| Join | Next

I'm Bored.

2007-03-27T13:33:00.000-07:00
I'm uninspired. I'm swatching (yes, SWATCHING) for either Marnie's Pismo or Carlsbad for a very dear friend, but he's out of the country and won't be receiving it for months - just in time for summer, no doubt.

I cleaned out my "convenient" stash - that what sits around me downstairs, and managed to come up with a garbage bag (scented, no less) of cast offs that I'm going to donate to Karyn and her kids. When I go through my upstairs stash, I think I'll split it between the Pali kids and Stitches. I like that most of the stuff Karyn's kids go to Stitches when completed, but I also like that a lot of yarn from Stitches goes to senior centers, where older folks on a fixed income can get their hands on fibery goodness (even if it is acrylic).

But I'm totally stressed out on the whole moving thing. I *hate* moving, and you would think I'd be used to it by now! There is so much freaking crap I have to get rid of (4 large garbage bags over last weekend!) The worst part is when it comes to crap that I know I *could* sell for some profit (every little bit helps), but then I remember that the only thing worse than moving is having a moving sale. Especially when you have no available "yard". Urgh. So I think I should donate it, but there are only a few specific places I'll donate to (on principle), like women and children's shelters, and they only have certain hours for accepting donations, yadda, yadda.

Aurgh. I need inspiration. And since I have no knitterly pix, I thought I'd share these with you - Baby Steven and Baby Oh decided to have a birfday party for Gus-Gus and Stella. Don't they look excited?!
Stella, with the ever lovely Miss Oh!

My Gus-Gus!!

Miss Oh! and "Baby Steven" who, according to his mom "has been such a shit for a week. talking back. not listening. calling me names. pushing his sister. and when he gets in trouble he says he doesn't care. i am ready to strangle him." Oh, I think I can relate!!!

Previous| Join | Next

Hah!

2007-03-26T14:04:00.000-07:00
I think I'm gonna have to go with Ucc's suggestion, sort of. Granted, I had to look up "High Quark" in wiki, but it was the definition of top quark that got me: "The top quark interacts primarily by the strong interaction but can only decay via the weak force. It almost exclusively decays to a W boson and a bottom quark."

Boson looks too much like bosom to ignore, and by the time I'm in my 80's, well, I have no doubt I'll be reduced to a W Bosom. :) But beyond that, it's not gender specific, so it's even more appropriate.

And yes, I generally do throw these away, but for some reason, this time I thought, "WTF? Why NOT respond?" It's not like any of those yahoos will remember me, anyway.

Previous| Join | Next

Really Quick-Like

2007-03-23T14:06:00.000-07:00
I just got the questionnaire from my grad school for the Alumni Directory. I need a suggestion for my "prefix" and "suffix". I was thinking, {Lady} MonkeyGurrl, but that kinda reeks of the patriarchal societal crap. Any suggestions? {Lord God King Boofoo}?? And my degree was a Master of Arts. So should I put "M.A." as the suffix? MAMA? Finally, since I hold the esteemed position of Secretary, I was thinking about putting "Slave to the Ever Oppressive White Man" or "Cog in the Machine" - is there something more amusing? I know all y'all are learneded folk, so what would you put?

Previous| Join | Next

I Wanna Say "THANKS!"

2007-03-23T13:22:00.000-07:00
To Uccellina and Miz K, first of all, for finding those exquisite listings. I owe y'all BIG TIME for helping to KEEP ME FROM MOVING TO THE VALLEY. Next, thank you to all the WeHo SnB'ers that were there last nite, and supported the WMG. I swear, I did NOT come up with that idea (WMG is quite clever when she wants to be), and you guys made her very happy. She just loves coming to hang out with y'all, but the buying of the chocolates was serious whip cream for her.

Y'all are the best. And even 'tho the Westwood SnB has "comfy chairs", I'll always come back to you!!

Previous| Join | Next

Aw, HELL

2007-03-22T11:51:00.000-07:00
For all my kvetching about the Crappy Little Apartment, Karma got back to me and informed me I get to move!

So. All my local knittahz, can you he'p a sista out?

Housing Needed - Clean, quiet, low-key, responsible family (1 kid) needs 2+ BR townhouse/house/apt for max of $2000/mo. Must accept our very well-trained, well-behaved (husband works @ home) 10 y/o lab mutt. We would love to stay in the Wilshire Vista/Picfair/Miracle Mile area, but have been priced out of the market, so we will consider any leads. Please call Johnny at 310/739-6366 or email Johnny@MysterieTalent.com.

Previous| Join | Next

'Sup, DAWWWWWG!

2007-03-20T15:43:00.000-07:00

Jaggers, my 100-lb Lab Mutt, with her fuzzy overlord, Bucket.

One thing that surprised the heck outta me when I moved to LA was to find what a dog-dense town it is. I don’t know why, but I never would have thought LA would be as dog lovin’ as it is. I *love* dogs, and they love me. When I take my beautiful Jaggers for walkies, we are greeted by the neighborhood dogs.

First, there’s the old shepherd from the green back house, ½ block down. Then crazy Maisy, a HUGE pitty that looks JUST like a cow (and I don’t mean this in a mean way!) She is tall, white and has rust-colored spots. :) She charges down the driveway like a bat outta heck. Next door to her is Persia, a beautiful golden ridgeback, who never barks until Jaggers is directly in front of her gate, then stops as soon as we walk past. Sometimes, just for fun, I’ll back up (to set her off) and forward (to make her stop) a few times.

Across the street is Piper, a standard poodle. Despite my inherent fear/loathing of standard poodles, I ADORE Piper. She’s a doll. Then there’s an older dog of indeterminate breed (he’s behind a fence), who goes crazy when we walk by, and his next door neighbor, Jay-Jay, a spunky little (is there any other kind?!) terrier, whom we can’t hear, but we can see him barking like a maniac from inside the picture window.

There’s an Aussie sheepdog across the street from Crappy Little Apartment Building, who twirls like a dervish when barking at us, then old collie mutt whom I just love. There are two dogs of varying degrees of lab that live next door to the CLABuilding. They are crazy and love having each other for company. Their family is textbook – white, middle class, husband, wife, grandmother and grandson (about middle-school aged). And within the CLA Building, there are three (one brand new) Yorkshire terriers, a mini-chow type, two Chihuahuas, a gorgeous Rottie named Tina, and of course, my Jaggers. They are all happy, healthy, friendly dogs.

Like babies, to me, all dogs are beautiful. But there is one dog of which I am constantly aware. She* is a beautiful blond lab. She looks purebred by her color, shape and bearing. She is a GORGEOUS dog. The backyard of her family’s house butts up to our next door neighbors’, so I have a perfect view from my nosey-neighbor-next-door bathroom window into her yard. I don’t know when I first became aware of her, but she’s certainly been their the whole time we’ve lived here (almost two years). I think I really took notice of her because she is such a GOOD dog. She has a thick, gorgeous coat, excellent structure and a beautifully round head. She seldom barks. Only when the neighbors’ dogs come out and run to the wall to say “HI! HOW YA DOIN’?! WANNA COME OVER AN’ PLAY?!”, she’ll respond. But neighbor doesn’t let his dogs stay out too long; I don’t think he likes the noise.

The other day, a squirrel stole an orange from the neighbors’ back yard. He sat on the crossbar of a telephone pole, nibbling at the orange, directly over the Blond Lab, teasing the heck out of her. She barked that day. On Saturdays, when the kids from the apartments directly behind us are yelling and squealing ALL DAY LONG, she’ll bark once or twice to say “HI! HOW’YA DOIN’?!”

Some mornings, when I’m getting ready, I can hear a difference in the morning sounds – more than the usual sing-song of the hydraulic brakes from the bus stopping on Fairfax, the ravens being chased by the little brown birds protecting their nests, the cars honking to pick up their rideshares. If I look out my window, I can see my Blond Lab standing up, wagging her luscious tail, as if to say, “HI. ARE YA COMING OUT TO SEE ME?! HOW ARE YOU?? I HAVEN’T SEEN YOU IN *SOOOOOO* LONG!!!” But she doesn’t bark. She is such a good girl.

She is cooped up in the corner. Her cage is made of chicken wire and spare 2x4s. There’s a makeshift “house”, just a roof, really, made of more 2x4s and some spare roofing material. She guards a yard overrun with rotting, rusting, festering junk. Stuff made of Grand Ideas and Good Intentions. Her nearest company is an old Pontiac on cinderblocks, covered by a worn blue tarp. That tarp has not come off the car in the two years we’ve lived here. She could knock over her coop with just one jump; one accidental sitting on a 2x4. But she doesn’t, because she is a good girl.

She was probably originally gotten for a child who has long since forgotten about her, and someone else remembers to feed and water her daily. She certainly isn’t malnourished. Or she was intended to “protect” the yard, but she doesn’t have a vicious bone in her body, so she was relegated to the furthermost corner. But the coop was made for a much smaller dog, maybe constructed when she was but a pup. She barely has enough room to turn around without knocking the fence. When she settles under the “house”, the whole structure shakes, as if it’s being held up by a few stray pieces of bubblegum and duct tape. But she is careful not to knock the structure too much, to not disturb the delicate balance of the southwest corner of the junk-strewn yard. Because she is such a good girl.

I fantasize that one day, I’m going to go over and meet her. I’m gonna pet her and play with her and give her the love and attention she deserves. But I know I won’t, because I’m just like her - each cooped in our too-small cage, pretending to be such a good girl.

Previous| Join | Next

I NEED HELP, Part Deux

2007-03-15T16:28:00.000-07:00
Now that I have a sizable stash, there is nothing I want to knit. :( Nothing for WMG, because she is on my sh*tlist for her behavior (and if I'm not lovin' the recipient, I'm not lovin' the knit). No babies are due. I just finished charity work and a BOATLOAD of knucks (although I am considering making another pair for Sandy, to replace the ones stolen by the Egg Donor). Toys aren't thrilling me. I need something portable and mindless and quick.

Any suggestions?

Oh, and just because he's yummy and he brightens up my day:

Previous| Join | Next

Playing Ketchup

2007-03-14T11:04:00.000-07:00
I am too verbose. Which is why I never maintained friendships as a child when my family moved from place to place - I would start to write a letter and end up detailing every miniscule thought and circumstance, and by the time I got to the 4th page of the handwritten single-spaced missive, I just said, "F*ck it", and went on.

In both high school and college papers, I was reprimanded for going OVER the page limit. By the time I got to grad school, I learned to curb my yammering (somewhat).

One reason I don't post as often as I'd like to is because I start describing things and feel I should tell the entire backstory and get so bogged down with the minutae I begin to wonder who in the HECK would want to read all this crap?! and give up and go home. I know. Already I've lost you.

So I'm trying a new tact: Listing.

1. The Egg and Sperm Donors - after thinking I was granted a reprieve, they showed up on Sunday at our CLA, *just* after I dropped Unca Douggles and the Wee Monkey Gurl off at the theater. They would rather miss seeing their granddaughter than have to endure 5 minutes with the Unca. Whatever.

2. Their Progeny - since I thought I was going to see the Brothers and my one In-Law, I finished a pair of knucks for Sandy (Kev's wife). They ended up quite nicely, out of Twizé Twing, to which I added a beaded skull-n-cross bones (chart courtesy of Severina, which is possibly the best S&C chart EVER. Simple, but effective.
WMG wanted them (natch), but they were too big.

L'egg donor (who is very disenchanted with her only daughter-in-law - god only knows why) decided they were too good for Sandy, but perfect for her. Seriously. She absconded with them. She who usually sniffs at my "little knitting", grabbed them like they were the golden fleece and would not let go. The thought of her wearing a skull design was amusing enough to let her have them.

Plus, she scares me and I was afraid she'd physically injure me if I tried to get them back. (She's little, but she fights dirty!)

3. My Girl Boss had a birthday. She's the one that saw the knucks I knit for my use in the office in Regia Bamboo (they look like a party on my hands), and said, "Oh, gosh, those are really great. Really, Really great. Those sure are great." Also, she's the One Person in the office that is cold as often as I am. She wears a lot of brown, so I knit her knucks in Debbie Bliss baby cash in a rich, dark chocolate color.

I have no patience for patterned embroidery, so I did some "free form" stuff (doesn't that make me sound crafty?!)

I was kinda going for a cherry blossom thang.

5. It was also my niece's birthday. Guess what? She got knucks. She loves dogs. I thought I had a pic, but maybe not. They are in LB Microspun in a beautiful royal blue, with "DAWG LUVR" on the fingers, and little puppy buttons on the hand part. Of course, she loved them. :)

6. I've been feeling charitable. So I knit up some headbands for an
Irish dance troup. They were a fun diversion. Very easy and fast, so it make me feel like I accomplished something.

7. On Sunday I met some friends from out of town for brunch. The food and atmosphere were both fabulous. Michael Tyson came in midway and sat at a table directly to my right. I didn't believe it was him until he turned to the right and I saw the ink on his face. He is a LOT better looking in real life; or at least, a lot less scary. Afterward, we all wanted to walk the Kinney and Venice Boardwalk. I think *EVERY* Southern Californian needs to hit The Boardwalk at least every year or to so as to remind themself why people living everywhere else in the world think of us the way they do.

8. Although I managed to avoid it for most of the week, I made it to the end of the sale at A Mano. Even at 75% off, I managed to spend a few bucks. But stash enhancement is life, no? It was Jman's first time witnessing yarn procurement. I think he was overwhelmed. But I gotta new toy, and Shannita was nice enough to explain to him why I was so excited. Since I have no current projects (and they only had them in size 0US and 1US, I'm playing with them now. :)

Hmmm. Looks like this listing stuff doesn't abbreviate me much, huh?!

Previous| Join | Next

Sometimes Life Is Scary

2007-03-12T17:15:00.000-07:00
Sometimes we do things that frighten the beejeezus out of us. For me, it's not something like skydiving or riding a motorcycle in a miniskirt or hanging out with the hookahz in D.C. (not hooking, just hanging out...)

Everything I've ever done, I've done well. When I give answers I'm generally right. That's not bragging - the trick to all that is I *don't* do what I don't do well. Skiing (water and snow), ice-skating, dance? I kicked arse from the get-go. Tennis, golf, bowling? I think I've done each (maybe) twice. In my life. Basically, anything you can do as a solitary endeavor, I rock; things you have to do in a group (or that generally involve someone other than me) frighten me.

I can take any general info standardized test and score in the 90th percentile (or higher), but I can't speak in front of an audience to save my life. As a matter of fact, I almost didn't pass the comps in grad school because of this inability.

A few people have recently confessed their nervousness at attending their first Stitch-n-Bitch (or facsimile thereof) meeting. Y'all aint got nuthing on me. I knew Purl and Miss K virtually, but I still (get this) had to take 2 antihistimines, a cocktail (gin, of course), and a VALIUM to calm down enough to walk up the stairs at the Farmers' Market. Seriously.

Most people think I am one of the bravest people they know. If only they knew the truth. I'm brave when it comes to things that scare normal people. I'm a little chickensh*t when it comes to normal stuff.

Like. . . Asking for favors. I was brought up poor and proud. In my mind, needing help is a sign of weakness. EVEN IF I KNOW THIS IS NOT TRUE objectively, subjectively my insides curdle at the thought. Included in this are things normal people have no problem with - like asking for a reference letter from a teacher or a boss, or advice from a friend who's career is relevant (like, talking about a MEDICAL ISSUE with my BEST FRIEND who is a DOCTOR, or asking my boss, who is a LAWYER for LEGAL ADVICE). Or, asking a complete stranger for a charitable donation.

Every year, Wee Monkey Gurrl's school holds a high-brow "Silent Auction" to raise funds to pay for the auxiliary services the school offers. Now, this is in addition to the "annual donation" (about $350), and the catalog sales and the candy bar sales (in this day and age?! Where are the healthy-eating police when you need them?!) and the t-shirt sales, etc., etc. FOR A PUBLIC SCHOOL. I think this is a great school (when they're not constantly hitting me up for my non-existant dollars), so when an opportunity recently arose, I took advantage of it... FOLKS, I ASKED FOR A DONATION.

And you know what? The earth didn't stop turning. I wasn't immediately struck by lightening, and the Four Horsemen didn't come.

Ah'z so proud of me.

And by the way, he said "yes." So, y'all, seriously, if you're in the WeHo area and want to hit a gallery, or if you're in the market for Fine Art, go to the Glass Garage Gallery. Because it was my first time and he was ever so gentle with me.

Previous| Join | Next

Wow.

2007-03-12T11:40:00.000-07:00
Some nice Italian dude decided to give me a million bucks. SCORE! (but don't tell anyone!!!)

Date: Mon, 12 Mar 2007 6:11:04 -0500
From: Fondazion Di Vittorio
To:
CC:
Subject: DONATION GRANT

Fondazion Di Vittorio, ITALY
http://www.fondazionedivittorio.it

Concern.

The Foundazion di Vittorio, would like to notify you that you have been chosen by the board of trustees as one of the final recipients of a cash Grant/Donation for your own personal, educational, and business development. The FDV, established 1977by the Multi-Million groups and now supported by the Economic Community for West African States (ECOWAS), United Nations Organization (UNO) and the European Union (EU) was conceived with the objective of human growth, educational,
and community development.To celebrate the 28th anniversary program, The Vittorio Foundation in conjunction with the Economic Community for West African States (ECOWAS), United Nations Organization (UNO) and the European Union (EU) is giving out a yearly donation of US$1,000,000.00. each to 100 lucky recipients.

These specific Donations/Grants will be awarded to 100 lucky international recipients worldwide; in different categories for their personal business development and enhancement of their educational plans.

You were selected among the lucky recipients to receive the award sum of US$1,000,000.00. as charity donations/aid from the Vittorio Foundation, ECOWAS, EU and the UNO in accordance with the enabling act of Parliament.(Note that all beneficiaries email addresses were selected randomly from over 100,000 internet websites or a shop's cash invoice around your area in which you might have purchased something from).

You are required to contact the Executive Secretary below, for qualification documentation and processing of your claims.

After contacting our office, you will be given your donation pin number, which you will use in collecting the funds. Please endeavor to quote your Qualification numbers (N-222-6747, E-900-56) in all discussions.

Executive Secretary: Gianlucci Carlo.
Email: gianlucci_carlo@yahoo.it

You are by all means hereby advised to keep this whole information confidential until you have been able to collect your donation, as there have been many cases of double and unqualified claim, due to beneficiaries informing third parties about his/her donation. [What, you mean, like me posting the info on my BLOG?!?!]

On behalf of the Board kindly, accept our warmest congratulations.
Regards.
Mr. Malcom Sparo.

Previous| Join | Next

Way to Go

2007-03-08T16:16:00.001-08:00
WeHo

Also, I find this amusing: A trainer at the San Diego zoo got the end of his index finger bit off by a chimp he was training. "Another chimp in the cage rescued the severed tip when another trainer gave the signal for the chimps to retrieve items that didn't belong." "Zoo officials theorized that Ikela, the 15-year-old chimp who did the nipping, might not have been feeling well. Ikela is pregnant and could have been annoyed or tired by extra monitoring due to her pregnancy." Boy, I can relate!

Previous| Join | Next

Black Thursday

2007-03-08T10:30:00.000-08:00
A very special friend of mine has taken off for parts unknown. Well, not entirely unknown, just . . . a certain part of the world that is in hideous turmoil. Where going to a cafe (or school or a funeral) can get you blown up. It's not a surprise that this friend is on his way there, but it still feels like I've gotten socked in the stomach. By scut farkus. And I didn't even get to throw a snowball first.

And it doesn't help to know that people die every day in auto incidents and gang crossfire and freak accidents, and that by being in the position my friend is in, he's probably taking more care walking down the street than I do when I play on the freeway.

To make matters worse, my Boyfriend's daughter is seriously ill. UPDATE: She's doing much better, and there are reports she was being treated for blood poisoning contracted by stepping on a rusty nail. OWWWIE, but not life-threatening. Thank the gods!

Is it too early to crawl back into bed?

Previous| Join | Next

The Joy of Being Unencumbered

2007-03-05T16:19:00.000-08:00
When One is unencumbered by the constraints of motherhood for 24 hours. Oh, the trouble One can get into!!!!

First, because One doesn’t need to go home and make sure One’s WMG has completed her homework and eaten her veggies and taken a bath, One must spend an additional 2 hours (additional to the customary 2 hours) at Tarjayz, because they have some new bras that looked like they MIGHT fit so One HAD TO try them on. . . but they didn’t. Sigh. So, at closing time, One gives up and goes home.

One’s dog, who didn’t take the trip to SD, is very excited when One comes home - “OhMyGawd. I TOTALLY thought you had abandoned me!!! Do you have a biscuit? El Cat has been chasing me around every. Oh Mama, I LOVE you! Do you have a biscuit? I’m so glad you’re back!! What’s that Smell? Do you have a biscuit? I’d very much like a biscuit!” So One takes her dog for a little walkie-walk, singing silly sings (out loud) to her and admiring all the houses One would LOVE to live in, rather than her Crappy Little Apartment.

Upon returning, singing “Jagger, waggers, waggily tail. . .” One nearly RUNS INTO A DOZEN UNIFORMED POLICE OFFICERS, who are attempting a covert approach on the Yellow House Across The Street. Except that One’s dog is causing the dog next door to the Yellow House Across The Street to bark. Stunned out of her reverie by the youth, vigor and BODY ARMOR of La Policia, One quickly crosses the street to the CLA building, taking refuge in her CLA, and surreptitiously spying on the goings-on from her bathroom window.

After 15 minutes of flashlights going off and on, a bit of a skerfuffle and the carting away of one person in a white t-shirt, One gets bored and goes to have cereal for dinner. Since One is tired and there’s nothing exciting on Late Nite TV, One goes to bed.

And wakes up . . . AT THE CRACK OF DAWN.

Seriously. Without One’s Wee MonkeyGurrl to wake her up at 6am, 6:23, 6:47, and so on until WMG either gets beaten or is otherwise occupied, One will sleep until 8am and then wake up FRESH AS A FRIGGIN DAISY. Amazing. So One will decide to do some things One wanted to do. BUT FIRST, One must obsess over how One will get Uncle Douggles and WMG to the Pantages the next day, given that the LA Marathon goes right down Hollywood to Vine. One must waste HOURS mapping out the route and the street closing times and the intersection reopening times (one mile every thirteen minutes. . .), until One realizes - ONE IS WASTING PRECIOUS DAYLIGHT on something that can be done at a later time. So One goes to take a shower, but starts obsessing on One’s grey hair - not the fact that One has grey hair (which One has in copius amounts), but that some hairs will have grey tips (2 -3 inches), and then switch BACK TO BLACK (or brown or whatever) all the way up to the root. One wastes more hours tracking said grey tips to the roots (pluck if they’re skunk hairs, leave if they’re not), and then decides to CHOP OFF (roughly) 4” of hair. “That’ll take care of those grey tips!” One thinks. OCD much, any ONE?

Finally (somewhat) decent for travel OUT OF DOORS ON A SATURDAY, one goes to a yard sale TWENTY MILES AWAY. Because all the local ones are crap, you know? Naw, One goes there solely to mock to the Yard Salers because One knows yard sales are NO FUN, and promptly upon arrival announces “I’m not going to take Any Thing because I already have too much crap at home.”

Of course, One manages to walk away with SEVEN Things. One is glad One didn’t see the Sylvester ashtray or the CD holder made to look like a t.v., b/c then One would have taken more Things that One doesn’t need or have room for.

When One is hanging out with the Yard Salers, One invites herself into the house under the guise of wanting to meet Yard Saler #1’s furry creatures. The group gets to chatting in The Cat Room, and Yard Saler #2 starts to turn a deeper shade of purple (given her allergic disposition toward felines). Before the group has the sense to leave the Cat Room, One and Yard Saler #1 were talking about age, and One mentions how she is far older than YS1, which YS1 doesn’t believe (bless her heart!)

“Why,” says YS1, “How old ARE you?”
“How old are YOU?!” One retorts.
“I’m 34 - but I’ll be 35 in (some spring/summer month that One has already forgotten, no doubt due to her advanced age.)”
“I’m 43.”
“Wow,” disbelief registering on her face. “You must moisturize.”
One finds that infinitely amusing.

One Journeys On.
One goes to a sale at a local yarn store. But first, One gets stuck in traffic on the legendary freeway (101, of course!). One gets confused as to which way One is going (b/c One seldom goes to The Valley), and so what should have taken 20 minutes ends up taking nearly an hour and a half. That Fresca One enjoyed at YS1’s house is starting to force it’s way out!!

So get this (and tell me if maybe it’s just me that’s crazy), One walks into the TINY boutique store where there are “designer” clothes on one wall, and cubicles filled with yarn on the other. One only knows about the sale through the LA SnB list and there are no signs anywhere, so One asks the proprietress, “So, what is the sale?”

“It’s on yarn.”
“Yes, I understand that, but what is 'ON SALE'.”
“Some are 30, some are 50 and some are 75 percent off.”
“Well, how can I tell which is which, unless I’m supposed to bring each skein up and ask you?”
“OH. Well, the yarns with the green dot above the cubbies are 20% off. . . .blah, blah, blah.”

Now, perhaps it’s just me, couldn’t that have been answered two questions ago?

BUUUUUUUUUUUUUTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT...

One walked out of there with a bagful of yarn for under $60.
Here it is all loosey-goosey

(One got soy and bamboo and "Wick", OH MY!)

And here it is, ready to go into The Stash

Monkey says: YUMMMMMMMMY!!!!!

One is exhausted. One wants to go home. One drives down the street and sees Pinkberry and considers stopping, but it’s crowded and on the east side of the street. One drives through Koreatown and sees a store front with the name “Seoul Dogg”. One hopes it’s not their specialty.

One heads home where One must take out the trash, change the linens for the visiting Uncle, and generally tidy up the CLA. One again has cereal for dinner. One thinks about YS1’s cute little house and how jealous One is that YS1 is unencumbered, and thinks, the grass is always greener...

Then One gets ready for Sunday, because that’s going to be an even BIGGER adventure!

Previous| Join | Next

The Condemned Woman Has Been Granted A Reprieve

2007-03-02T14:09:00.000-08:00
Or, "How to fix it so you don't have to go to dinner with your family". (Hey, not everybody can have a family love fest like CAP!)

Thanks, everybody, for your suggestions. The Newsroom sounds like something I would like to do WITHOUT the crazy Donors, so I could enjoy myself! Some other places I was considering were ammo cafe, citizen smith, hollywoodandvine, eat on Sunset, and social hollywood (based on the Strip atmosphere and $$$ ratings), as well as La Boheme, The Terrace (at Sunset Tower), Republic LA and Asia de Cuba (for just the $$$ factor).

HOWEVER, The Donors could not cope when I told them the Unca would be joining us, and used some flimsy excuses (oh, WMG's got too much going on, there's the Marathon going on, Kev says there's no where we could get reserves for Saturday... Blah, blah, blah) to beg off until they come through again in May. Sperm Donor said, "I'm sure the boys can be a little flexible", to which I replied, "Well, they've waited YEARS, they can wait a few more months." HAH. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

So we're probably still going out to dinner on Saturday, just us and Unca Douggles, and probably to one of the Culver City haunts I've been wanting to check out (Ford's Filling Station, maybe?)

But there's one thing that strikes a chord of fear in my heart for tomorrow: "Sale at The Little Knittery - This SATURDAY ONLY I will be putting every ball of yarn in here on sale. 20 to 75% off all yarns!" I've never been to the Little Knittery, and I think I may be up at the crack of dawn (or at least by noon) to go tomorrow!!!

Previous| Join | Next

I NEEED Help!!!!!

2007-03-01T17:07:00.000-08:00
(NOT) short story - the crazy sperm and egg donors are coming to town this weekend. The reason? One of my older brothers, Kev (whom no one has heard from in FIVE AND A HALF YEARS), decided he wanted us to all be a family again. The younger brother, Fireboy, the same one who lived with Jman, WMG and I for over 3 years and had a falling out with The Donors (but we still supported him in all he was doing), then suddenly DISAPPEARED FROM THE FACE OF THE EARTH about 2.5 years ago, also wants to meet up.

Firstly, I tried for years to get in touch with the brothers, especially when WMG was small. Kev and his wife avoided contact with me for no reason ever enumerated. It was important to me to have WMG know her family when she was young (especially after Jman's mom died), but they avoided us like the plague. Now, WMG says she doesn't even remember EVER MEETING Kev or his wifey (she was 2 when they last met), and she's pissed at the Fireboy because he never once called, sent a card, emailed, NOTHING for the last 2.5 years. I'm not bitter, but I really just don't care to see them and I hate making a special effort to work it out.

Nextly, they want to meet up at our Crappy Little Apartment. Not only is there not enough room for my family, in addition to the Donors and three LARGE sized, full-grown adult males, but I also don't feel like cleaning up the place for their visit, and the Jman's not going to be around to do it.

To make things even more interesting, WMG and the Jman are going down to San Diego Friday afternoon. One of the nieces (who is on a softball scholarship in Tenn) is playing in a tourney at USD. Jman's other brother (who we see at least 2x a year) is coming out from AZ. And Jman's father (who we see a few times a year) has been recently diagnosed with cancer, so the Jman would really like to spend time with his family. I totally would too, but I hate going to SD for just one day. It just wipes me out.

Finally, Uncle Douggles (my best friend) is taking WMG to see Wicked on Sunday (an ex-mas gift to her), so he's coming up from SD on Saturday to spend the nite at CLA.

Oh, and don't forget - the donors don't like Uncle Douggles b/c he's my ex-boyfriend and ex's shouldn't be friends (they didn't like him when we were together b/c he is Jewish. It pisses The Egg Donor off to no end to know that he and I and our respective families are still friends, particularly after I got married 9 years ago, and EGGSPECIALLY after he got married (last summer).

Anyway, I've been a nearly-veg for most of my life. I have no philosophical objections to eating meat, I just generally don't like it. Since the Egg Donor was recently warned about adult diabetes, she's gone on a major health kick - basically eating all the stuff that I've been eating for YEARS and then LECTURING ME about it. AURGH.

So, in honor of this auspicious fiasco - er, get together, I *get* to pick the restaurant. But I MUST be sure they serve VEGETARIAN foodstuffs. I told her I know about a few great vegan places, but most of them are on the eastside.

She doesn't know what "vegan" is.

So, long story even longer, can anyone recommend a restaurant on the westside that has a considerable vegetarian/vegan menu, but still serves meat, in case The Brothers have a need for dead animal flesh? I'd prefer something outrageous (like a gay fetish bar in WeHo) and expensive (but not too, since I don't want to get dressed up), since I want to make this as annoying the Donors and their progeny as it is for me.

Oh, and I've invited Uncle Douggles to come with us. :) I'm not bitter, I'm just a trouble-stirrer.

PS - I've made a major life change. I don't know if I'll be posting it b/c of its nature, but I'm hoping it "sticks". So send me the Positive Thought Vibes, if you get a chance. THANKS!!

Previous| Join | Next

Happy New Year!!!

2007-02-23T11:38:00.000-08:00
Good thing traditional Lunar New Year celebrations last 15 days - otherwise, I'd *really* be late.

Sun nin fai lok.

One of WMG's teachers told her she wasn't Chinese. I told her she is (her grandmutha is Phillipino; if the teacher can definitively conclude WMG doesn't have any Chinese in her, then she must be far more insightful than I), and WMG stood up for herself. That is one powerfully stubborn little gurlie. But I'm proud of her.

Also, I have a New Year's resolution this year. More on that later, when they're not making me work.

In the meantime, gung hei faat choi.

Previous| Join | Next

How I spent the weekend

2007-02-20T16:28:00.000-08:00
Giving in to familial pressure, I decided to pack up the Jman, WMG and Jagger dawg and head for San Diego. For the first time in a long time, we didn't have a gazillion commitments to see various branches of the friends and family, so we just spent time with Duggles and his crew.

I ended up biting off more than I could chew
Censoring the annoying kid next door
Chillin' wit da Monkey
And hangin' out wit mah boyeeeez
Good times, folks. Good times.

And the good news is, providing a preponderance of the work doesn't sell out before April, I will have a whole month to peruse the exhibit. And how is this for making art more approachable - when I realized I would not be able to attend the opening, I inquired as to the nature of the refreshments being served. This was the response by the gallery owner/director:

"We have decided that Mermaid Pie is going to be dill tuna sandwiches in pita triangles. For food and beverage at our shows, we always come up with the words first, then decide on what that is going to be later. We have a strict policy to never again serve the cliche of wine and cheese at a gallery opening. Thus, we have gone from Champagne and Mushrooms to Tea and Octopus to Osmanthus and Ambrosia to Afikoman and Wine."

I love a good sense of humor.

Previous| Join | Next

Life's Little Questions. . .

2007-02-20T15:26:00.000-08:00
Apropos of nothing. . .

If the pace of traffic, generally, is about 65 mph, and the HOV lane is clear, why do some people find it their moral imperative to go 60 mph in the HOV lane?

If someone is conspicuously NOT smoking (i.e., reading a book, knitting, etc.), why would someone sit NEXT TO that person to smoke, given that there are plenty of other places to sit and smoke?

And conversely, if someone is conspicuously smoking (say, at an outdoor bar or cafe or someplace else where the choice has not been legislated away), why would someone choose to sit next to that person and make gagging and coughing sounds, along with the dramatic wave of the hand?

Why do self-important groups of people find it necessary to walk abreast of each other, and expect people walking in the opposite direction to make way for them?

And most importantly, who the HELL is Martha (see 4th comment) and who drove a stake up his arse?

Previous| Join | Next

BIG Weekend. . .

2007-02-15T15:33:00.000-08:00
Okay, we have a three-day weekend coming up, and it's not like I haven't had something to do on previous long weekends, but this one just seems chock FULL of interesting stuff. And of course, I feel obligated to go to SD to visit with family and friends, on top of everything else.

First, there's this art show opening I want to go to. I happened to see a card of the work, and for some reason, I'm drawn to it. I want to go. I want to know what "mermaid sandwiches" are (I can guess as to "amber mead"), and those will be served at the opening. Anyone wanna come with?! Seriously.

Afterward, there is another exhibit that could prove to be interesting. Especially with "several bottles of Icelandic schnapps that made it through customs" being served.

At the same time, a group of folks from the office is going to the house of one crazy attorney (seriously, she is certifiably crazy - crazy rich and crazy in the head)for cocktails before adjourning to the 'hood to see this play. Our word processor played a part in the production and Ol' Crazy Head has really taken him on as her cause célèbre. To be honest, I wanted to see the production anyway, and thought the WMG might enjoy it, but the thought of actually entering the Looney Tunes abode makes it that more attractive. She lives in upper Bel Air and the house is supposed to be spectacular.

And of course, there is the Mardi Gras celebration that
Ellen's been yammering on about. Which looks like its going to be a lot of fun as well. And a festival of sorts... Oh, and let's not forget Momi Lavenders Chinese Pop Glam Winter Bash and other various celebrations of the Lunar New Year. Thank the gods the Dragon Parade & Car Show isn't until NEXT week!

PHEW. I'm exhausted just thinking about it. Mebbe I'll just spend the weekend in bed!

Previous| Join | Next

Mmmmmmmmmm... PURTY!

2007-02-13T17:06:00.000-08:00
It's five o'clock. I think this is a sign.

From my boss's office, to the left (Santa Monica Blvd in Beverly Hills):

To the right - my commute home (Pico Blvd at Beverwil):

We used to get rainbows ALL THE TIME when I lived in Hawaii, but I never lost appreciation for the beauty of 'em. And this is one for which you can see the entire arc (although I can't capture it on my cellphone camera from my boss's office). Gorgeous. Almost makes LA seem beautiful. Now I'm gonna go drive home with my top down.

Previous| Join | Next

WTF?!?!?!!

2007-02-09T15:26:00.000-08:00
Okay, I was going to post about post-birthday observations and such, but I woke up this morning pissed at the world. I think this whole psycho astronaut/Zsa-Zsa Gabor's husband is Anna Nicole's baby-daddy thing is just getting to me. But I mellowed some and my rant evaporated.

Then, I got this:

----- Original Message -----
From:
To:
Sent: Monday, January 29, 2007 6:48 AM
Subject: Stitch & Bitch Cafe forum
>
> The following is an email sent to you by an administrator of "Stitch &
> Bitch Cafe". If this message is spam, contains abusive or other comments
> you find offensive please contact the webmaster of the board at the
> following address:
>
> stitchnbitch@sewfastseweasy.com
>
> Include this full email (particularly the headers).
>
> Message sent to you follows:
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
>
> Stitch & Bitch Cafe has new products being released this year. One
> specifically will be coming really soon. Once more information is
> available we will share it with you.
>
> In case you are not aware, Stitch & Bitch Cafe has online video learning
> priced at only $7.99. Learn the basics to knitting, crochet or sew a
> makeup bag or lacy tanga panties. Our staff is in the process of making
> more selection in this area so any feedback you have is welcome. What do
> you want to learn?
>
> Additionally, our pattern selection will be increased this year. As
> always, Sew Fast Sew Easy is working hard to provide easy patterns with
> detailed instructions. Now we want to hear from you.
>
> Sincerely,
>
> Stitch & Bitch Cafe

Wanna hear from me, do you?! Ooooooooooooooooooookay baby. You'll be hearing from me!!!

Previous| Join | Next

First, A Poem

2007-02-05T10:54:00.000-08:00
Happy Birdday to Me*
I fell out my tree.
Thought I’d go shopping…
What a silly monkey!!!

I went to this store
They had bargains galore
I filled up my basket
But I still wanted more.

Soy silk and silk wool **
I started to drool
Bamboo and some cotton
I looked like a fool.

50% of in back
I had an attack
At $1.79 per ball,
I put 6 in my sack.

I sound like a boor
But I still wanted more
Then came the epiphany
I am a yarn whore.

The lesson, my friend
Now that this poem’s at its end,
Even tho its Super Bowl Sunday
It isn’t a requirement to go off the deep end.

*it wasn't really my birthday DAY, but since the day is on a school day, that was the closest I'm gonna be to celebrating.
** just as a note, these are all vibrant, beautiful colors, it's just that camera phone was doing it's artistic thing again.

Previous| Join | Next

A Parting Shot

2007-02-02T17:22:00.000-08:00

I've had three seperate people make complimentary comments on my breastesses today (they were each female and straight). Which got me to thinking, what could possibly be attracting their attention?

What I forget a lot of the time is that people walking by the cube are standing up, whereas I am sitting down. Perspective is everything.

The phone is taking funky pix, but I thought this was well enough to illustrate what passers-by are seeing (or attempting to avoid seeing), and arty at the same time. Somebody book me at a gallery. I'm gonna be the Next Big Thing(s).

Previous| Join | Next

WHATEVER, Ellen!!!

2007-01-31T17:05:00.000-08:00

Ellen's reference to them being readily available notwithstanding, MY SnB calendars are going to be FREE - not even $0.99!!! AND delivered to you!

That having been said, I gotta admit - LaurieAnn got me with the JDepp news release. Seriously. SPITTING chewed carrots all over my keyboard. That's a new one. And the "frayed knot" - AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! But, since there were only five entries (double entries don't count even for people with the most gorgeous baby EVAH http://http://accordingtojen.blogspot.com/2006/10/im-baaaack.html), EVERYONE GETS ONE!!! Plus, there will be one left over for someone at WeHo SnB.

I'll email Sachi, Tina and JenL for their snailmail address, and bring Annika and LaurieAnn theirs (hopefully!!!) tomorrow night.

Thanks for playing.

Previous| Join | Next

Is January Over Already?!

2007-01-30T17:14:00.000-08:00
Welcome to 2007. What took me so long to get here?

Well, the one thing I like about being a . . . hmm. What is a nice way of putting this? A "non-over-acheiver" like me is sometimes it bears rewards.

Back in the ex-mas rush of things, I asked the Jman to keep an eye out at Costco (R) for the Stitch-n-Bitch calendar or pretty much any calendar he could get at a reduced price. Of course, he completely forgot about it until I mentioned an LA SnB-er said she had found the SnB calendar at a Silverlake $0.99 store.

Well, he's been looking out.

And he found some.

And I told him to buy as many as his little allowance would allow, which is all of 7.

So. The first six people to make me pee in my pants from some wiseacre remark in comments will get the extries. If you're a WeHo SnB-er, great. Even if you're not, I'll mail it out to you. 'Cuz that's how I roll.

In the completely conceivable case I don't even get 6 comments, I'll bring the balance to the next WeHo SnB I attend, and let you guys scuffle over them with all the finesse of an attendee at Filene's Basement Annual Bridal Event.

Oh, and BTW, I *HATE* this new Google-based Blogger.

Previous| Join | Next

Welcome to the World, Little One

2007-01-26T09:20:00.000-08:00

Wyld Blue Owyeung, born 25 January 07, 0116 hours
7.8 lbs, 20". Healthy, happy and amazing.

Previous| Join | Next

I have officially hit The Wall

2007-01-25T16:18:00.000-08:00
Oh, my gawd. Yesterday went well. The Wee Monkey Gurl was so well-prepared for the procedure that when the tech started to explain what would be happening, she just zoned right on out. :) That's mah gurl!

Tuesday nite, we went to a fashion show at the trade show where my gurlfriend was showing her clothing line. It was very cool to see the booths at the trade show - mamahood has changed much in the few short years since WMG was bornt. But note to self - no matter how thirsty, NEVER drink free wine. Sure, it was poured from a bottle, sure it was kinda really (too) sweet, but I do NOT drink wine in general, and I SHOULD NOT drink wine. Especially when I *know* I'm gonna be doing some real drinking afterward. Oy.

WMG showed up with the Jman at the trade show dressed like the princess she is. She had a really great time, feeling all grown up about being out so late. :) Then the Jman got to take her home to wash her hair while *I* got to hang out with mah gurlz at the Standard. What a dive. But the rooftop bar is nice, and the crowd was so non-trendy out-of-towners, I felt like we were being received as local divas. Good for us.

Five a.m. came around early yesterday.

BUT. The really Great news is that my girlfriend, K2, gave birth this a.m. around 1:45. Mom and Babe are happy, healthy, perfect in every way. How could this have happened? It was only a month ago (or so it seems) that she told me she was preggers. AND I HAVEN'T FINISHED HIS SWEATER YET!!!! Okay, I admit - I put it aside for ex-mas knitting but I could have sworn I had more time!!! AURGH. Guess I know what I'm going to be doing for the next day and a half (I'm going to visit them this weekend).

Once I take a nap.

Previous| Join | Next

Warning - Text Heavy Post

2007-01-22T15:20:00.000-08:00
So, a few folks have been inquiring about the Wee Monkey gurl and her ex-mas eve-eve adventure. Well, we made it to the neurologist 2 weeks ago (a little over a week after it happened).

With WMG and me just barely over the nasty tummy virii, and Jman just beginning, we were in a swell mood to hang out in an over-crowded pediatric waiting room, complete with screaming babies, snotty tykes and a grotesquely overweight little boy who did NOT want to see the doctor. Can’t say that I’d blame him much.

The Doc turned out to be very thorough, capable, well-mannered and a tad of the wacky - just enough to keep her human. She took quite an extensive (and exhaustive!) history for WMG, and as much as we could give her about WMG’s extended family - which is limited, given the fact that Jman’s in-laws (i.e., my egg and sperm donors) are not exactly forthcoming about even the hint of a possible physical, mental or spiritual imperfection. (They cover up a LOT. Seriously. I only found out my father had a heart attack about 15 years after the fact, and from an unrelated 3rd party.) And the Jman’s family suffers from a plethora of white trash illnesses (I am NOT judging; they simply were born and raised in the midwest, eat only meat, potatoes and some sort of fried lard, and to them, exercise is a foreign concept. Not one is at or below (or even close to) the target weight for their height/age. I love them, but they are not the most healthy folks I know.)

Basically, Doc confirmed what I was thinking either (1) b/c I'm so damned smart, or (b) b/c she's damned smart. She said given the symptoms (and despite the family history), WMG most likely had a seizure. WMG has a propensity for migraines (which she gets from both me and the Jman), and one may have triggered the seizure. Doc's very cautious about starting *anyone* on the medication, for which I'm glad, particularly when we don’t know whether this is an isolated event. I agree; I'd really rather not put WMG on anything she'll have to take for the rest of her life (which is, I think, what you have to do with anti-seizure meds) unless her life depended on it. Since I have experienced a one-time-only seizure (back in the 90’s, before WMG was a glimmer in my eye), Doc thinks it’s very likely the one-time-only may apply to WMG as well. Of course, the other side of the coin is that my seizure was NOT one-time-only, and that I just didn’t realize what had happened b/c I was either drunk or medicated or I just don’t remember. Looking back, I can think of one or two episodes (one was crashing while riding my cousin’s 10-speed, resulting in multiple skull fractures) that may very well have been small seizures. Oh, gawd. Now I’m gonna start inventing drama!!!

Naw, got enough of that on my own. Doc said that we'll know more after WMG gets an EEG, which will happen on Wednesday (so SnB’ers, that *may* mean I won’t make it again to Farmers’ Market. :( . Doc recommended against advising WMG’s teachers because (1) it won't help them react if she ever does have a seizure at school; and (B) she finds that treating a kid differently could have more adverse repercussions. Can't argue with that.

All-in-all, I was pretty (happy? satisfied?) with the visit. The Doc basically confirmed what I thought and is taking a conservative tack. The only thing I didn't like (but can't argue with) is that WMG would probably get a better nite’s sleep if she slept alone in her own bed. Man, that was the hardest thing to own up to. People look at you like you’re some sort of child abuser when they find out you co-sleep with a baby; believe me, it’s even worse when they find out you have an 8 year old. I just don't know what I'll do without my cuddlebumpkin, especially if that means Jman has to sleep with me. Mebbe it won’t be so bad if we ALL sleep in our own beds.

Oh, and the doc said that MEWP's and Jman's heads are abnormally large (in the 90th percentile). Mine, on the other hand, was literally OFF THE CHART. Really. See? Y’all didn’t believe me!

And although there is no empirical evidence to substantiate it, Doc has a working theory (that she’s keeping stats on) that big heads have a tendency for OCD and autistism. Or rather, the children of people with big heads have OCD and/or autistic tendancies. OCD and autism. Hmmm. Knitting, anybody?!

Previous| Join | Next

How Sad.

2007-01-22T09:53:00.000-08:00
Clicking on this link gave me the biggest thrill I've gotten in a long time. Well, care of the innernetz, that is.

And you thought I was surfing for p*rn!

Previous| Join | Next

We're Still Around. . .

2007-01-18T17:25:00.000-08:00
Wow. Wow, wow, wowwie wow-wow. What a frickin way to start of the new year. When preparing to support my friend in her loss of female innards, the WMG and I came down with a nasty little buggie. OH MY GOODNESS. It wasn't too bad for me, but poor WMG just was spewing from both ends, usually between midnight and 3am, so that made for some interesting coupola days.

My girlfriend made it through her surgery with flying colors. THANK THE GODS. She is such a trooper. I briefly interrupted my catchin-up-with-ex-mas knitting for a quickie comfort giftie. It wasn't as quick as I had hoped, however, because I was totally flying solo (i.e., no pattern for the wicked). PLUS, I intended to model it after her doggie, who is a gorgeous, solid black Tosa, which is not only rare, but undocumented in Southern California (so we surmise she's here illegally) and she was found in the LA Animal Shelter by my bestest pal, Douggles, who was there to claim Frankie, whom J-man had rescued outside our house when we lived by Roscoe's. Phew. How's that for a digression?! Anyhoo, I decided to use this yarn that I "accidentally" found at a Wally World in San Diego. Of course, I didn't get a black skein at the time because, what the heck would I need black for?! (Joke for all that know me.)

I decided to go check out the Wallys in Torrance because I'd heard great things about it. Great indeed. There was only ONE SKEIN of the black left, but I still managed to spend $203 and fill up not only the trunk of my car, but the back seat and passenger seat as well. Nice. Well, in addition to some much needed (and yet to be utilized) storage bins, I got some lavender-scented beads, which I though I could put in the giftie's belly, since lavender is supposed to be soothing.

I think I overdid it with the beads (it being my first time, I thought they would air out a bit), but of course, 'Dre was completely gracious and said how much she loves lavender petted the giftie the whole time.

(Blurry camera photo.)

When she returned home, she sent me this email:

"Olivia and I fought over what she insisted was Stitch today. My little stuffed puppy. She wanted it. Steven although insisted it looked like Stella [the Tosa]. This is how I won out over the Stella/Stitch battle. Olivia kept saying it was hers. So I told her that her pink cowboy boots were mine. She said that I had my own cowboy boots. I said but not pink. So she gave in.

"By the way, i didn't tell you that the dolly you made is on the "A-List." She has 3 (well 4 if you count the bear she uses as a pillow) toys that she lets sleep with her EVERY night. (Dolly is in that group) then the others need a special inviation when she feels like it. She is such a diva."

Oh how I love that gurl.

More on my own Wee Monkey Gurl when I have a minute...

Previous| Join | Next

Holy Crap

2007-01-04T17:37:00.000-08:00
I found it. Or at least, I found a crochet version. And it's not for lack of trying, believe me. But, Anonymous, after all this time and effort invested, you're gonna have to at least tell me your name!Pooch/Hooch

Previous| Join | Next

Dolly Dolly Dolly - Get Your Adverbs Here!

2007-01-04T09:23:00.000-08:00
Exposition - From the beginning of November through the end of December, I had a tough time getting my pictures to send from my camera phone to my computer. A few times it would work, most times it wouldn't. It was driving me NUTZ, I tell ya. Beyond the normal level of nutticism. Therefore, there are a few things that I didn't have the distinct pleasure of sharing with all y'all and getting the requisite kudos and compliments. Cuz y'all know I *thrive* on that kinda thing.

Rising Action - I received a phone bill that was about $50 more than the usual $10. I called the company to question the charges. Seems that every time I tried to send the data (and it failed b/c of lack of connectivity), and when it asked "resend?" and I hit "yes", I was charged TWICE. Some times it would just resend on its own and charge me AGAIN. It was bad enough that I was not getting my pictures, but I was getting charged for not getting my pictures.

Conflict - Not only did the Jman get me a fahncee new camera for ex-mas, but we also got a trade-in on our old, sucky phones. I had about 24 hours to do whatever I could with the old phone before the new ones were activated and I couldn't access them. I had a gazillion pictures that hadn't been able to send in the last two months, but I didn't want to lose them forever!

Falling Action - Not only did the customer service rep cut my phone bill in half (still not right, but close enough for me), he checked on my settings which enabled me to send the pictures.

Denouement (the whole point of this post was give me an opportunity to use that word!!!!) - I got some pichaz fo' yaz.

At last, I present the final rendition of Olivia's Dolly!!!

Monkeys like nekked dollys!!!

A close up of Dolly's hair, which I ingeniously constructed by taking 3 plies of yellow and mixing with 3 plies of off-white to get a color closely approximating the color of Baby O's hair. I then crocheted a bunch of those wormy-type things we all did in junior high. Some I did with fewer plies to give her a nice, kicky hair-do.

A close-up of Dolly's face, which (to me, at least) more than vaguely resembles Baby O's. . .

And as I remarked to anyone who would listen, when you start knitting a SKIRT and BOLERO for a dolly, you've really crossed over into crazy craft lady land.

If you ever see me scrap-booking, just shoot me.

Previous| Join | Next

Again, Who Wudda Thunk It?!

2007-01-03T14:27:00.000-08:00
In trying to track down the status of the quilt for Grandma Purl, I came across this test. Purely out of curiosity, b/c we all know I am SO not a nerd, I took the test. I was surprised to receive the result.

Must be all that graduate work I did . . .

Previous| Join | Next

HAPPA GNU EAR!

2007-01-02T15:37:00.000-08:00
So, I thought I was a 15 y/o boy, then I reverted to being a 12 y/o girl. Now, I'm back to being a 15 y/o boy. The Jman saw "Eragon" (the book) at Costco and bought it for me. Despite it being classified as "juvenile" literature, I'VE BEEN SUCKED IN!!! Now I *know* I will never see the movie, because CGI just can never compare with E Magi Nation. Granted, it *is* juvenile literature - obvious, clichéd and predictable, but I still love it. I love dragons; always have, always will. And it doesn't hurt that this particular dragon is one of extreme intelligence and mystery, and she is of the deepest color blue. . .

I hope everyone had a safe and sane New Years' celebration. I know I did - we watched "Shaggy Dog" on On Demand© (gawd, I love that!), then gave kisses and hugs at midnight. I made up little wish bags for us to put under our pillows - dollars for wealth, a vitamin for health (had to borrow WMG's; hmmm... might have to get me some o' my own...), an angel coin for blessings, and some form of good luck charm (horseshoe for the Jman, 4-leaf clover for the WMG and the kanji symbol for luck for me) - so we can have all of that in the new year. MEWP's bag is pink gauze with pink beads, so she was purty happy about that.

In the spirit of NY's resolutions, I got some containers for yarn overrun. Currently they're sitting in the middle of the living room floor, but hopefully one day they will be used for their intended purpose. . .

And in the spirit of a totally MELLOW New Years, I completely forgot about Faith's New Years Day partay. Complete and total brain fart. I remembered it friday nite (warned the Jman that I'd be at a biker/leather party!), and then the brain cloud that descended immediately wiped it from my memory until this morning as I was driving to work. And I'm really, really bummed. Because (1) I love Faith; (b) it's not often that I get to go to a party with a bunch of Harley riders in full regalia; and (iii) I am *SO* excited about Faith's new house and I could not wait to see it! Oy. Way to start the new year off.

Instead, I did 6 loads of laundry and cleaned out the WMG's drawers. Wooo-hoo!!!

Previous| Join | Next

I Thought I Was A 15-Year Old Boy

2006-12-28T13:01:00.000-08:00
Of all the movies that are being premiered these days, the one I was most excited about was this. Hey, dragons, wizards, magic - I am ALL OVER that. Plus it doesn't hurt to have John Friggin Malkovich or Jeremy Irons starring in your movie. But that's just an excuse - I'd see it if it starred Al Franken and Ronald Reagan.

HOWEVER, I saw a commercial for a movie last nite that changed my POA (plan of attack) completely. It has everything I *hate* in a movie: an "actress" I can't stand, a child molester, infidelity, soccer moms with mini vans, etc., etc. But, DUUUUUUUUDE. It stars Jackie Earle Haley!!!

My first love. Kelly Leak, the OG Bad News Bear. I was so in lust with his air-hockey-playin', 13 y/o cigarette-smokin', motorcycle (okay, dirt bike) ridin', skinny little ass. I was 12 when that movie came out, and I think it made an indelible impact on me.

After that, no respectable Izod-wearing, checker-playing, polite-talking goody two-shoes ever stood a chance with me. Bad Boyeez 4 EVAH!!!

And you know what? He still looks goooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooood!!!

He's still a bad boy. :) He's been out of The Biz for years, but his performance in this movie (and in this little movie) has gotten raves.

I've always wondered what ever happened to my first love (he's delivered pizza, driven a limo, had a couple of kids, and started a successful commercial production company). It's kinda like cyberstalking your highschool sweetheart, but this goes well beyond that. You go, Jackie. I still love you.

Previous| Join | Next

It wasn't all bad...

2006-12-27T10:46:00.000-08:00
After the 6 hour ER stay, we managed to drag our arses on the road and down to Ramona. For those of you unfamiliar, it's known as "god's country" and for good reason. It's like driving to Big Bear, but without the benefit of a good ski run. And at night, with the Old Lady (Jman) driving, it can be quite adventurous. Oh, and let's mix in the fact that his brother didn't know the proper exit from the freeway (and it was to HIS house we were driving!!!)

Once safely ensconced in the home, we were happy to see everyone - Uncles (one from AZ), cousins (one from KY), aunties and grandpas. It's the paternal side of the family, and while they can be a bit. . . *country*, they are good people. WMG got to hang with her cousins and that always thrills her.

We left the next morning sans shower - it's a little hard to have privacy when your father-in-law and brother-in-law are in the next room, with an adjoining bathroom, and there are NO DOORS. Did I mention the house is still being built? Nice.

South to Paradise Hills we went (a few miles north of the SD/TJ border), where I had a nap and what was quite possibly the BEST shower of my life. :) This time, we visited one of my best friends for the last 15 years, and to me, that's a lifetime. She recently adopted a 12 y/o girl, so it was more fun for the WMG. They made cookies FROM SCRATCH and generally acted like pre-teen girls.

West was the next direction - to Del Mar area. Just to drop off the Jag dawg. Then North to Rancho Santa Fe - the polar opposite of Ramona. This is where folks like Janet Jackson and Elton John have homes. As a matter of fact, the house where we went for ex-mas eve dinner was originally built for Elton, but the builders ('Dre's parents) decided they wanted to keep it for themselves. Can't really blame them.

It was the poshest of posh affairs - Robbie, their personal chef, had been cooking for 3 days. There was roast beast, turkey, fish, all kinds of side dishes that probably have fancy names but just tasted fantastic to me, and what was the BEST brussel sprouts I've had in ten years. The company was a beautiful mix of the rich, famous, and us. :) The kids had a great time performing in the "viewing room" while the movie played on them. Don't even get me started about the fantastic rooms the kids have - and this is at their grandparent's house! Good times were had by all.

Back down to Del Mar, for SLEEP and exmas day with Douggles, his wife, the Dawnster, cousins Ashee and Warnnen, Mama L, and a surprise visit from our hard-core washingtonian republican, Sitruc. Just to make things interesting, there's Jaggers (100 lb lab), Lola (85 lb bulldog), Frankie (75 lb pitty), and Lucy (205, er, 25 lb cat). WMG made out like a BANDIT. She got nearly everything on her list (the jacuzzi and private airplane were a bit out of everyone's budget). And I didn't do so badly. Thanks to the popularity of POC and POC2, there is no lack of goodies to make me happy.

We made it back to Smell Lay by 8pm, and promptly washed up and went to bed. I didn't dream of spiders or falling or being nekked in front of an audience, and the WMG slept like a log, so all's well that ends well. And to all, a good night.

Previous| Join | Next

Eye Yam Sofa King Tie Eared

2006-12-26T13:13:00.000-08:00
Aw, HELL, whatta weekend!

I hate ex-mas. I've always hated ex-mas. It has nothing (well, little) to do with the organized religion issue, but everything to do with the fact that (say it with me, Miss K), when I was little, INEVITABLY I'd commit some grievous offense and end up being in the closet (or the corner, or the basement) during the festivities. Well, except for Mass, b/c I would *always* have to go to Mass. As I got older, I began to suspect the egg donor never really purchased presents for me, and just found reasons for punishment so she wouldn't be found out. The brothers never got in trouble. Go figger.

Anyhoo, as a young adult, I was thrilled to be set free from the requirements of the season. The only reason to celebrate in any way was because I could get free drinks and act like a fool, but I don't really need ex-mas for that. So all was well.

Then I had the Wee MonkeyGurrl, and had to fake it for her sake. It wasn't so bad, except for when the Jman's in-laws were in town. But valium and gin are pleasant holiday helpers.

This year was no different than the previous - we were scheduled to be ALL OVER San Diego County within the three days. Fortunately, I was released from work a little early on Friday, so I could attack the 8 loads of laundry and gazillion presents that needed to be wrapped. Because of the brother's unanticipated call (and b/c I'm neurotic like that), I had a few extra pressies to attend to.

I stayed up well past Craig Ferguson, but it was worth it because I LOVE HIM AND I got to see Twisted Sister perform "Oh Come All Ye Faithful", which sounded way more like "We're Not Gonna Take It", but I'm not complaining. It was very disconcerting to see Dee with all his makeup and HAIR singing "Oh, come let us adore him. . . Christ, the Lord." But well worth it.

So... About an hour later than I wanted to get up on Saturday, I was rushing around, trying to get things ready so we could get on the road. We were supposed to be in Paradise Hills (a few miles north of the border) around noon, so we had to leave by 10/10:30. I had showered, dressed, and packed most of what I needed. Jman had gotten breakfast for the WMG, who was otherwise occupied with cartoons. He went out to fill up the tank and WMG came to join me in the lavatory, happy to put on lipstick and a little powder.

As we do every morning, she stood in front of me while I sat on the toilet to brush her hair. As usual, she was goofin around with the towel hanging on the wall directly in front of her. We were in good spirits and talking about whether she would bring her pillow with her (to nap on the drive), when she slowly started turning toward me and dropped like a rock.

Just crumpled.

Smacked her nose on the side of the bathtub.

I tried my best to catch her, but I was totally caught unaware. I gathered her into my arms and yelled (trying my hardest to keep the panic out of my voice) at her to wake up. And I saw something that I never want to see again - her eyes, totally without life or spark in them. Dead eyes.

Now, I've jumped out of airplanes, I ride a motorcycle, I (inadvertently) get into fist-fights with complete strangers, but I have never, EVER been as frightened as I was at that instant.

I picked her up and put her in my bed. By that time, she was awake, but unsure of what had happened. All she wanted to do was sleep. I didn't know what happened either, but I thought if she had a concussion (perhaps at school?), the one thing you're not supposed to let them do is go to sleep. So I let her turn on cartoons. :)

Of course, the first call I made was to the Ellster, to let her know we weren't going to make it for lunch. Then I called the Douggles, b/c he is a doctor and I though I would just run it by him. The full panic hadn't hit me yet. He was not of much help (peds are different!), so I called the answering service for the pediatrician on call. That's when the Jman came home and gave me a hard time for not calling him. LIKE HE WOULD BE ON THE TOP OF MY LIST?!?!?!! Besides, he was next...

After the ped called back and we talked, she advised taking the WMG to the Emergency Room. What a misnomer! I don't know exactly where the "Emergency ROOM" is, but we were in the Waiting Room (twice!), the Triage Room, the Exam Room (which wasn't really an exam room, but a hallway outside the room where beds 34 - 36 were), the Radiology Room, the Bathroom, and the Discharge Room. It had been 7 years since our last visit to the ER (we were new parents; we had NO ONE to talk to about baby behavior, and the WMG was quite the colicky baby!) I was asked to do things no mother should ever have to do to her baby - one was hold her arm down while the nurse shoved a stake (okay, injected a catheter) into her teeny, tiny, delicate leetle hand. The other was try and get the WMG to pee in a cup. Y'all think this should be second nature, but for an 8 year old, it was more foreign to her than her Momma cooking a four-course meal and being up before noon on Saturday. She couldn't squat over the toilet (she's too short!), so we ended up making quite the mess.

My poor gurlie. She was so brave and so scared and so hurt. She had no idea what was going on, but tried to have a positive attitude. I tried to work on the one ex-mas gift I hadn't yet completed, but I just could not concentrate.

Finally, all the tests were run and decisions were made. She didn't have anything easily identifiable (no heart attack, no stroke, no low blood sugar or low blood pressure, no cranial injury), so we were allowed to leave the ER and travel to San Diego with the caveat that we keep a close watch on her (just try and stop me!) and follow up this week with a neurologist.

We ended up hitting all the spots we were scheduled (just a little bit out of order), and had to tell and re-tell the story each time. There was no good reason - she'd eaten; she wasn't highly excited; she didn't get up suddenly; she hadn't been running around like a crazy person; she's too young for it to be hormonal.

But for now, she's okay. I worry that this will hit me at some point in the next couple of days and I'll be a complete basket case. I worry that she'll have epilepsy and never be able to get her drivers' license (something she's already talking about!) But you know how they say that sometimes you need a smack upside the head with a 2x4 to realize how good you got it?

Okay, Powers That Be, I got it!

Previous| Join | Next

An Actual Conversation

2006-12-22T14:28:00.000-08:00
When I was hitting up Jo-Anns the other nite for some last minute finishing touches to holiday goodies. I was at the check out when a man interrupted me and the cashier.

"Excuse me, I hate to be a bother, but can I ask you a question?" he said to the cashier.

"Buddy, you already did," thought I.

"Can you tell me where else there is to get yarn?"

The cashier and Customer 2 (an interesting cross between an extreme crafter and an obsessive bargain hunter) both mentioned Michaels, to which he had already been, and found the yarns better at Jo-Anns.

I noticed his companion, a very sweet, shy blond girl, and asked her what kind of yarn she wanted. "Mohair..." said she.

Smiling, I said, "Oh, you want the good stuff."

The cashier suggested "Mild Wiber"** on 14th. "Oh, don't go there," I said, "They're not very nice."

Customer 2 agreed, stating that she lived near the owner, who already has her fortune and runs the store solely as a tax write-off. I mentioned Compatto, on Wilshire, and that they were very nice, or if she wanted more variety, to check out Yarns Unlimited on Pico. They have *everything* there. The couple thanked us, and took their leave.

But the conversation didn't end there.

Cashier: "I guess you're right about Mild Wiber. We've asked her to extend her hours, but she didn't have any interest."

Customer 2: "Yeah, the owner is my neighbor. I've asked her to teach me to knit. . ."

Me: "Oh, well, if you want someone to teach you, go to - "
Cashier and Me: Stitches from the Heart!!

Lesson Learned: If you don't need my business, and you act accordingly, I won't patronize your store (I know you don't care). But if you're kind and helpful and take care of your customers (even those who may be viewed as working for competing businesses), word will get around.

** Y'all know who I mean by "Mild Wiber". Right?

Previous| Join | Next

Tell 'Im to Knock Over the Tree

2006-12-21T09:28:00.000-08:00
Really.

Previous| Join | Next

Clearly Not Worried About Inbreeding

2006-12-20T12:53:00.000-08:00
Turns out Kimodo Dragons are parthenogenic. Cool.

Previous| Join | Next

Reflecting...

2006-12-19T17:28:00.000-08:00
I don't remember much of my childhood. Rather, I don't remember most of my childhood. I have entire years of my life that have no memories. When I was younger, I blamed that on the many moves (daddy is a Marine), many schools, and multiple head injuries. When I went through therapy, I thought it might be something else. Whichever, what I do have are a very few recurrent memories. There is one in particular that I haven't been able to shake, and lately it's really been bothering me.

I know it happened when we were living in Hawaii, so I was between 8 and 10, I'd guess 9. Why not. My mother had dropped me and my two older brothers off in a parking lot for some reason. Back then, people did that kind of stuff. (In the summer, we'd leave the house after breakfast and wouldn't come home until we were hurt or hungry.) I'm guessing she had to take my baby brother (by 6 years) to a pediatrician appointment - otherwise, I'd have been stuck taking care of him.

In any event, I was doing something to annoy my brothers. I have no idea what, probably just begging to play in their reindeer games, whining, and generally being the nuisance younger sisters can tend to be. My middle brother, K, who was 11 months and 2 weeks older than I was, finally had enough. Before I knew what was happening, he had me pinned down on the tarmac, kneeling on my chest, smacking my jaw as hard as he could with his knee. I thought my head was going to split open and all my teeth would fall out. I can remember feeling the pebbles digging into my back and the faintly tarry smell of the black top. I can also smell the beach, but this was Hawaii, and you could almost always smell the beach.

After he decided I had enough, he let me up, but not without first clocking me upside the head one more time for good measure. I sat behind the bus stop, my back against one of those metal barricades, and listened to K and my older brother, M (who was 11 months and 3 weeks older than K), talk shit about me. I think they were trying to make me cry. Just to fuck with their heads (and b/c I was twisted like that, even then), I started laughing maniacally. "What a freak!"

K and I have had a love-hate relationship all our lives. He was the golden boy, the parents' favorite, the one who could do no wrong, until suddenly, he was kicked out of the house at age 16 for some imagined offense. We finally became friends, given his (temporary) status as undeserving of my parents' love. I tried hard to maintain his friendship, but it was difficult, as he was constantly moving, shaking, making a deal. When I graduated college, he paid for his GED. When I graduated from grad school, he opened his first strip club. When I had the first grandbaby, he made his first million.

When the Wee MonkeyGurrl was born, he was practically a fixture in our lives. He was back in the parents' good graces. Then, inexplicably, he disappeared once again. I called, I left messages, I tried to contact him thru the younger brother, but I haven't heard from him in a good 4 or 5 years.

Why did he call me yesterday to invite me to Christmas dinner at his place? And why did he not return my calls for years, even though he and his wife and dog live an hour away?

I tell myself that I don't care, and on some levels I don't. But on some levels, I'm still the little gurl with the split lip, wondering what sort of a freak I must be to never have the love or respect of my brothers.

And you know? There's a song out now, that reminds me terriby of him. Here.

Of course, the video trivializes violence toward women in a predictable way, but the lyrics, particularly the chorus, resonates.

Just another reason to love the holidays.

Previous| Join | Next

Because Life Sucks Without Photos

2006-12-13T11:39:00.000-08:00
I'm regurgitating all the crap I get by e-mail. But sometimes, it's pertinent. Take THIS for instance. If you go to the web site,you can pick out a "thank you" card and Xerox will print it and send it to a soldier that is currently serving in Iraq. You can't pick out who gets it, but it will go to some member of the armed services. My daddy was a career Marine and some of my best friends are in one service or another. Regardless of how you feel about the war (lawd knows I'm against it!), it's a great idea for some demoralized people.

Speaking of which, I'd like to point out that TARGET already has their Valentine's Day goodies out on the floor. What the F*CK?!?!?! And also, I always thought customer service was the absolute worst at Target (or Wal-Mart, or any other of the high-end emporiums I frequent) because of the location and/or clientele. I can be *so* wrong sometimes. I went to Cost Plus (Westwood) for xmas goodies last night, and even with a positive attitude (i.e., post-work cocktail) and the patience of Job, I think it remarkable I left without committing a major felony. People, I know it's "THE SEASON", but really. A little civility never hurt anyone.

Previous| Join | Next

Odd Balls

2006-12-12T12:03:00.000-08:00

Too frickin appropriate for me and all those I love.

Also, if you haven't seen it already, go check this out. I laughed my arse off (because I'm coarse and politically incorrect like that).

Previous| Join | Next

Oy Vey, Whatta Day!

2006-12-11T13:56:00.000-08:00
So, I ended up going to the felt club on Saturday. While I don't doubt that it was their "biggest event ever", I think the organizers either had no idea of the popularity of the event (doubtful), or did themselves a real disservice by making available the "goody bags" for the first 250 visitors. I was there at 12:45 (event started at noon), and already people were leaving with goody bags in tow. The place was so incredibly crowded I stayed for all of ten minutes - the time it took me to go from one side of the room to the other. There *literally* wasn't enough room to breathe, much less give full appreciation for all the items being exhibited. Which is sad, really, because I had full intentions of spending some serious cashola . . . or at least up to the $200 I had in my wallet. Next time, the organizers might want to give away 10 goody bags per hour, or at 2 or 3 various times during the day. That way, you won't find yourself in a zoo at noon, with a graveyard by 3pm.

Since I found myself with a few extra hours to enjoy the beautiful FALL-like weather (crisp, cool, just a hint of rain in the air), I adhered to the MonkeyGurrl's Basic Saturday Road Rules and went on an adventure. MGBSRR are basically as follows: (1) you must go somewhere you haven't been before; (b) if you are going somewhere you've been in the last 6 months, you can have a general map of where you are going, but no door-to-door directions; (iii) no freeways (except when the road on which you're traveling inadvertently turns into an on-ramp, which has happened more times that you wudda thunk); (fourth) NO u-turns. Under any circumstances. and (V) no getting yer panties in a bunch b/c of traffic.

Which leads me to some pretty interesting parts of town. But mostly lets me enjoy the day meandering to and fro, with nary a care in the world. Annoyingly, my profoundly accurate sense of direction prevents me from getting too lost, but at least I'm beginning to understand how these different (cities? towns?) relate to one another geographically (vis-a-vis, Glendale/Burbank).

I serendipitously (by way of one of my favorite parts of town) made it over to Unwind, where I knew they were hosting the HI-larious Stitch McYarnpants and her traveling museum of kitschy stitches. She was every bit as sweet and unassuming as her posts are wittily acerbic. And seeing the knit and crochetted monstrosities up close and personal was a bit frightening - it brought me face-to-face with the memories of some of my early forays into acrylic.

I wish I had pictures, but my cell phone *still* isn't transmitting!!!

Previous| Join | Next

How Many o' Me?! How Many o' YOU?!!!

2006-12-07T16:56:00.000-08:00
Here's an interesting thought. My marred (spelling intentional) name:

HowManyOfMe.com
There are:
0
people with my name
in the U.S.A.
How many have your name?

Reeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeally? ZERO?!?! Hmmm. I guess I don't count for nuttin.

As for my given name,

HowManyOfMe.com
There are:
2
people with my name
in the U.S.A.
How many have your name?

One other. And she's some chiro/gym-rat/something-or-other out in the great northwest. Right about my age. And given the relative dearth of folks with my last name, we're probably related. {{shudder}} Scary!

Previous| Join | Next

Gonna Be a BUSY Weekend!!

2006-12-06T16:09:00.000-08:00
Well, the high holydays are here - you can tell by the opportunities abounding for conspicuous consumption. Lucky for me, I'm po', so there aint no money to be spent.

But I *am* contemplating going to the West 3rd event - even if I don't buy, there is wine and other goodies FOR FREE.

the only bad thing is, it's during our weekly SnB, which I missed last week, due to much needed shopping for the firm holiday party.

I'm gonna have to ponder that.

ESPECIALLY since there will be no drunken knitters meeting at the Frolic Room this week. {{sob}} I got two invites - one from The Knitters Studio and one from Zulu. And I wonder why I'm broke all the time!!

On Saturday, there is the monthly meeting of stitchers at the Farmers' Market, which is always a hoot. I met some really nice folks the last time I got up on a saturday AT THE CRACK OF DAWN, er, I mean, before noon, to knit. And I could really use the time to work on The Holiday Knitting (which will NO WAY be ready in time for said holidays. Urgh.)

Afterward, we have the big Felt Club XL event. Wow. I wonder if they'll take payment in blood? Body fat?? I have plenty of that to spare!!

Btw, I heard a rumor that there are "candid" shots of the firm holiday party circulating. If I can get my hands on them, I promise to show you The Dress, and prove to you that my artist's rendering is not off the mark.

Previous| Join | Next

Lady In Red

2006-12-05T12:38:00.000-08:00
Well, "holiday" party is over, and I managed to not embarrass myself (too much) or sacrifice any small animals. I think I stole one guy's date, but she was *cute*!!!

Actually, very unlike me, I was Little Miss Talkie-Talkie Gurl. You couldn't shut me up with a 2x4 to the back of the head. I talked to people I've never even met before. I was working the tables like I was Nathan Petrelli at a fundraiser. Which is an interesting idea, because then I'd be both incestuous and. . . is there a word for someone who wants to have sex with himself?

Anyhoo, since so many folks are more visual and I managed to avoid any film or digital documentation of the evening, below is an artist's rendering of my outfit. I went with the red because (IMMA HUSSY!!!!!) it's the only color I haven't worn at previous parties (2 black, 1 purple and THREE shades of blue!!!)

My jewelry was nice.

Previous| Join | Next

Who Ya Callin' a HO?!

2006-12-01T10:43:00.000-08:00
The season is upon us - tonite is our annual Holiday Party for FatCatLawFirm, LA. When I first started working here, some 7 years ago, the attendees were limited to employees of the Firm. No spouses, no dates, free alcohol and good eats. Much debauchery was to be had. Well, I never really witnessed anything much beyond pissy drunkenness, but I heard RUMORS...

Anyhoo, it's a very hifalutin' affair. My first year, it was at the Peninsula. Very chi-chi.

The hotel is really nice. This being my first year, I was inappropriately dressed in a nice, conservative blue suit. I'd heard about law firms that had "employee only" holiday parties, but I'd never witnessed one. I thought it would be very Peyton Place-esque.

My attorney, Mr. S, is the nicest guy in the world. I was in for a great surprise when I saw him dressed as Santa Claus, climb up on a chintz-covered reproduction chair, and deliver his cutting observations on the accomplishments of the office in the past year. His style is a lot like Letterman, only more erudite and a bit less unctuous. I laughed my a$$ off.

The office manager got drunk and prattled on about her dogs. I left after the dinner, since WeeMonkeyGurl was only 6 months old at the time, and I'd just won a bunch of money on a game show. I should have hung around - after dancing, a bunch of folks went over to the bar, where they met Shaq.

Over the years, there have been two parties at RegBevWil,
where I managed to embarrass myself to the fullest (highlights include drunkenly yelling at people to "shut up while Santa's talking" and breaking the strap on my bra), and three at Hotel Bel Air, where the dance floor is actually a stage with, oh, eleventy steps down. . . which is a far way to fall. But the surroundings (the swans! the topiary!) are enchanted.

But my favorite location (and site of this year's debacle) is The Club. The dance floor is an actual FLOOR, the bar is a real BAR, and the facilities are POSH. La-dee-da!! Last time we partied there (the *first* time dates were allowed!), I took home the jacket of our managing partner (whom I thought had left and forgotten it!), leaving him without a wallet or his car keys for the balance of the weekend. Oh, it took me WEEKS to get over that embarassment!

All this fahncee dress (i.e., CLEAVAGE) and free booze reminds me of a sweet time back when I lived in San Diego, when I was asked to a "Dining Out" by a very handsome young Naval officer. Having never been to a prom or other formal affair, I was a bit concerned about what to wear and how to behave - I wanted to be attractive to him, but not like this. In any event, that was a very special experience. Sometimes I think I try to replicate it at the parties, but it's just not the same. I guess the absolute dearth of men in uniforms will have that effect.

Wish me luck, and turn off your cellphones. There will be drunk dialing tonite.

OH, WAIT - I forgot to ask. I went to Ross(™) last nite to find a dress (you can tell I have a LOT invested in this!) I usually have a huge problem finding anything because I'm "cushy". Last nite, after trying on (no kidding) at least 40 dresses, I came home with FOUR (and all for under $100!). I have my choice of (a) a red (b/c I'm a HARLOT! a HUSSY) grecian number (lycra, floor-length, yadda, yadda); (2) a midnight blue velveteen column dress (very elegant, but dark); (iii) a purple *gown* (literally; it has swirls and layers and a tasteful applique!); or (four) black tea-length dress that for the life of me I couldn't figure out why I liked it until I realized it was a black version (with seriously low cleavage) of this dress, when Maria gets rid of that witch and finally gets the Captain. WHICH SHOULD I WEAR?!?!?!

Previous| Join | Next

Blue Man

2006-11-28T16:08:00.000-08:00

Uncle Douggles got a make-over from the gurlz whilst he was "sleeping". What a good sport. In some strange way, I found this appealing.

I am so far behind on my posting, my reading, and my knitting, it's not even funny. I completed Baby O's birthday dolly and have pictures and everything, but the stupid cell phone has i-net access only when it wants to. For instance, the above Uncle was one of, maybe, TWENTY pictures I attempted to share. I'm hoping Santa gets me the present I deserve (HAH!) for xmas. Otherwise, I'm SOL.

I had the best turkey day ever - my BFF@W, Jac, made a throw-down soul spread. Turkey (first ever!), ham (okay, honeybaked), greens (YUMMMMM!!!!!), beans, black-eyed peas, sweet potato (or yams) with peacans and coconut, rolls, some killer stuffing, and FOUR kinds of pie - pumpkin, pumpkin cheesecake, apple and berry cobbler, and apple crumble. I'm happy to report I sampled EVERYTHING and went back for seconds.

Of course, Wee MonkeyGurl and the Jman had to roll me home. . .

Then it was down to San Diego for post-turkey day feast with Doug and the gurlz, and Baby O's birthday on Saturday.

Can you believe she is only two?!?!?!

Her big brother is already fighting off the boys at day care.

AND, she had an ALPACA and angora goat at her party!!! Hopefully, I'll have some pix to share soon...

Previous| Join | Next

But I Have No Personality!!!

2006-11-16T13:08:00.000-08:00
I got this link from a friend. I put very little stock in personality tests and horrorscopes (unless you're talking about the crazy, amazing, ON POINT ones from CAP

But this one had fun sounds, cute graphics, and it was short, so I figgered, what the heck. This way, I could compare "me" to "ANTI-me". First I answered it as honestly as I could; then I answered it picking the absolute WORST colors (in my mind). A comparison of the results yielded support for my hypothesis - that all of these "tests" contain a component of general personality types, so any taker is bound to more or less agree with the results. . . unless you're one of the sociopathic individuals featured regularly on my favorite t.v. shoes (run-on sentence, anyone?)

1. Graphic of House; choice of colors: red, yellow, brown, gray or mint

Me (red): You have a strong personality that likes to take risks if the rewards are worth it. You don't like being told what to do and prefer to take matters into your own hands.

Well, yeah. No argument there.

Anti-Me (grey): You are a person who approaches their finances aggressively and with purpose. You make sure you have covered every angle by consulting the best professionals, then move in for the attack.

Hmmmmm. Agressive and with purpose. That sounds kinda like me as well.

2. Graphic of A Shirt; colors: red, yellow, royal blue, black or chartreuse

Me (royal blue): Preferring a more casual appearance, you are more comfortable in jeans and a t-shirt than in a suit. You don't like over dressing for any occasion, although you never look scruffy.

Mostly true – except for the scruffy part. I *always* looks scruffy! Even when I’m dressed up!!!

Anti-me (yellow): You are bubbly and approachable. Unrestricted by the latest fashion trends, you buy clothes only when they look good on you.

See, this starts off as being textbook anti-me, but then, the switch-up! I am *so* "unrestricted by fashion trends" that I'm considering using that as my new tag line.

3. Graphic of Rose; color: mint, red, baby yellow, white or pink

Me (pink): Variety is the spice of life! You are comfortable in any crowd or situation, and always come away with new friends.

About 50/50; I’m not comfortable in the least, but I act as if I am. And I usually come away with one or two new folks. . .

Anti-me (mint): You are a very friendly and always at the center of attention. However, this sometimes prevents you from establishing deep and lasting relationships as you spread your friendship thinly.

Hmmm. I think that’s more me than ANTI–me.

4. Graphic of car; colors: grey, red, yellow, black, baby blue.

Me (black): In your mind, the image your friends have of you is very important. You like to have the latest brands and are prepared to invest a lot of your money in quality and expensive possessions.

Well, the image my friends have of me is one of the more important things in my mind. But brands and possessions are the LEAST of my cares, and if people judge me on those, I will be found sorely lacking. I would say that is ANTI–me!

Anti-Me (yellow): Always searching for a bargain, you have many possessions. However, you tend to sell them immediately as soon as they go out of fashion.

That is *SO* me! Well, except for the fashion-conscious part. Aurgh. WTF is going on here?!

5. Graphic of Cell-Phone; colors: grey, black, red, blue, orange.

Me (grey - hey, if you're not caught up in the cell phone mania, you would admit it should be grey (which translates to silver) too!!!): A good listener. You are comfortable allowing others to take the spotlight and share their adventures. You are protective about your friendship and ensure the best for your friends.

Yes, I try. I *am* such a giver, aint I?!

Anti-Me (orange - BLECH!!!): Variety is the spice of life. You are comfortable in any crowd and get along easily with anyone.

That sounds familiar… Only now, it's Anti-me!

6. Graphic of Teddy Bear; colors: chartreuse, brown, tan, lavendar, pink.

Me (chartreuse - I luv mah funky aminals!!!): For you, friendship is an extension of business. Your care and attention is given only when it helps your personal situation.

Uh, ah, NO. Not just “no”, but F*CK NO. Helloooooo! Have you ever even met me?!

Anti-Me (BEIGE- how unbearingly BORING): You are very considerate. Friendship is the world to you, and you are friends with everyone. Be careful, as sometimes this works against you if you are too trusting.

Hee, hee. *So* not me. I trust NO ONE.

Amazing. I think I'll go consult a psychic next.

Previous| Join | Next

Gratuitous Baby Shot

2006-11-14T12:39:00.000-08:00
Of kids not even remotely related to me. Their grandfather is the former managing partner at FatCatLawFirm (LA office) - I have never even met their parents!

But how freakin' cute are they?!?!?!

Gotta love the bubbles.

Previous| Join | Next

I Was *SO* excited

2006-11-13T16:24:00.000-08:00
Saturday, I awoke BEFORE noon. Le Wee Monkey was in a mood, so I decided to take a day for myself. I started by going to the once-monthly Saturday SnB meeting at Farmers Market. Lovely group of ladies. This is a slightly more mature, conventional group than the Thursday nite group, but I still had a great time.

Afterward, I journeyed east(?)ward, in search of The Perfect Fit. Spurred on by this review, I took a drive to lovely downtown Glendora. Hey, it was a nice afternoon, I had the convertible. What more could I want?!

After a personal (REALLY personal!) fitting, I settled on two new undergarments. The first is strictly utilitarian, BUT IT WAS IN MY SIZE!!! No more going-up-a-band-size-to-go-up-a-cup-size for me!!! The second I bought because it's so purty.

Actually, prettier than the picture because it is in this beautiful, royal and navy blue color.

Which goes to show what happens when you pick style over function. NOT that I had a lot to choose from (three, to be precise). It never ceases to amaze me that despite the number of (naturally and enhanced) large-breasted women I know, there is an absolute dearth of well-made, attractive, comfortable bras for anyone over a C cup. Really. I don't even bother to walk into Victoria's Secret anymore. The smallest band size you can get for a cup size D or larger is 38 in most stores. WTF?!?! Here, in the world's capital of outrageous bodies and cosmetic surgery, we can't get a lousy D+ bra?!?!

Anyhoo, all excited, I put on the purty one this morning. And for the most part, I've loved it - it fits well. But DANG. What I would give for a nice, smooth microfiber right now. That way I could stop flashing my highbeams at everyone.

Previous| Join | Next

Halloween Redux - THE SHOES

2006-11-07T11:12:00.000-08:00
Finally finagled the pix from the Jman.

Here are THE SHOES And just for you pervs and peers, a (not so) random Cleavage Shot
Don't forget - the ability to vote is one of our most precious privileges, so go early and often.

Oh, and for anyone else participating, the deadline for squares for
G-Mutha Purl is quickly coming up. I finished weaving in ends and will be sending mine today.

(green and cherry are Cascade Pima Silk, tutti-frutti colored is Berroco cotton twist)

Previous| Join | Next

Weekends. . .

2006-11-06T11:40:00.000-08:00
Here it is, No-freakin-vember, and it's 90° and balmy. Gawd, if ever there was a reason for putting up with the craziness of So Cal, this weekend was it.

Started off the weekend by hooking up with a few fellow knitters at the Frolic Room. Yes, I went back to the scene of the crime. I felt I had to apologize for my obnoxious behavior two weeks ago. And of course, those I thought I offended most, responded with a nonplussed, "Oh. Don't worry about it." I guess even at my most outrageous, I don't even compare with the daily antics of the denizens of Hollyweird.

Sunday was a red letter day for the WeeMonkeyGurl. Ever since she was a wee bitty Monkey, she knew that when she turned eight, she'd be able to get her ears pierced. Fortunately, her (mis)behavior on and around her birthday failed to compel me to make the effort to follow through. HOWEVER, she seems to have turned the corner (it's hard to type when your fingers are crossed!), and is doing nicely both in school and at home. So when asked Friday night (yes, I was home before she went to sleep!), I told her she could get her ears pierced over the weekend.

Poor thing. She was so freakin excited. She's been waiting for this FOREVER (or at least since she was 3 and noticed the other girls had "hoes in deir eahs"!) Due to other demands (namely, catching up on some much-needed sleep!), Sunday was slated to be The Big Day. Although she tried desperately not to wake me before 9am, she was just too excited. As the clocked began to change from 8:59, she was at the ready with microphone in hand - "Wake up, Mama. Time to wake up!"

I tried to prep her for what was to come. I joked about getting her first tattoo when she was 12 and body piercing when she's 15. She said she didn't want anything else, except maybe to have her bellybutton pierced. I warned her that the belly button is about 10,000 times more painful than the ear (I honestly do not think I was exaggerating). We went to Claire's, because, after polling every person I know who has a girl, and questioning the parents of every newborn with pierced ears (yes, I do walk up to complete strangers and ask them about their body mutilating practices), that appears to be the only place to go. I was actually rather surprised by the knowledge and professionalism of the 18 y/o that handled the piercing ("Jenny" at Fox Hills Mall, in case you're interested).

Oh, when that first earring went in, I felt like I was shot through the heart. It immediately took me back to when WMG was a teeny, tiny tike and got her first shots. Just this look of shock, bewilderment and then, PAIN. Giant tears welled up in her huge, trusting eyes and her lips quivered. Jenny quickly did the second ear and handed her a pink lollipop. Jenny was The Bomb. WMG ravaged the lollipop, and confirmed that she will NOT be getting her belly button pierced.

Mah gurl quickly recovered, especially after she spied a sparkly chapeau to accent her new sparkly ears. So she worked me for it, and since my stomach was still in shambles, I easily gave in. She *does* look amazing.

Afterward, we tried to get something to eat, but the ONE THING at the food court that even remotely appealed to me was unavailable. Since I had not had a chance breakfast, Mama was becoming a cranky little monkey. We decided to go to Santa Monica, because I wanted to check out the Contemporary Crafts Market. After a bite to eat, I bid the WMG and Jman adieu, as they went to watch SC3 (there is not enough money in the world to make me go there!)

The Crafts Market was, in a word, overwhelming. It was like the Sawdust Festival on steroids. At first, it was nice, interesting, unusual, high quality, but then I realized I was seeing just the outside vendors. Hey-su Creesto. I literally found myself getting lightheaded and confused. There must have been eleventy-thousand booths, at least. (Again, NOT exaggerating!)

These guys were my favorite. They welcomed the visitors at the entrance.

This fellow is receiving transmissions from Marz. I don't know how else to explain that lime green band on the bottom of the picture. But that's how he knows to nod his head up and down.

He is my fav. His tail wags. :)

I did manage to procure a few holiday presents (yes, spent WAY too much), so it was worth the effort. But I don't think I'll ever try that again - TOO. MANY. VENDORS!

That's like complaining about Too Much Yarn. Seems insincere, but apparently, as with everything else, I DO have a limit. Good to know.

Previous| Join | Next

Halloweenie

2006-11-02T13:26:00.000-08:00
Despite the fact I am still peeling adhesive from my (real) eye lashes, I love Halloween. And fortunately, the WMG pulled it together long enough to actually be able to dress up and go to a party. YAY, WMG!!!

It was Jackie's party we went to (my cubemate/BFF@w/etc.) She didn't get much work done while at work. (But that isn't terribly unusual for her. I've learned a lot in the last seven years about hair appointments, brow appointments, "waxing" sessions, how to speak to a "babydaddy", etc., just from sitting next to her.)

fight the power. roar.

Just slavin' for the ever oppressive white man.

Originally, WMG was going to be a rockstar-fairy-princess. Then she decided she would be a dead fairy. Finally (no doubt after watching Scooby-Doo "Ghoul School" a few too many times), she decided she would be "Drah-coo-lahz Dawwwhtah". (you have to say it in voce spooky.

Hard to be scary when you're cracking yourself up.

But dang, she's gorgeous.

I'd hoped to have pictures of The Shoes to share, but apparently someone feels they need to limit the amount of pictures they can send me at any one time. I think its someone's way of feeling pertinent.

Previous| Join | Next

Yes, I still Knit.

2006-10-30T13:16:00.000-08:00
But several items I'm currently working on are for recipients who occasionally visit me here. But I can show you this. I'll give you three guesses (more if you're naughty!) as to what this is.

Went to the Craft 'Zine launch. It was nice, and it got me over on the east side, again. From the "I never win anything!" file, I was in the party maybe 3 minutes (long enough to fill out an entry form), when I won a door prize! Woo-hoo.

Including

And

Monkeys like freebies.

Afterwards, I headed over to my new favorite clothing resale place (BBC on Sunset) WITHOUT step-by-step mapquest instructions(!), and bought a few possibilities for Halloweeny. Not that I need them, but hey, at $8 for 3, how can I pass that up?

Then, over to Annika's house for an estate sale. Well, actually, I prefaced my visit with the old "I have less room and more crap than you, but I really want to see MY baby, Sam" line. Worked like a charm. All I took with me (other than the feeling of a beautiful baby in my arms) was a very portable feng shui item. Not sure how it works, or what it's supposed to do, but it's already up and functional at the Monkey Abode.

Sunday, went to lunch with WMG and Jman in Westwood. Out of all the places available to us, would you believe the fast food counter in the Whole Foods Market best suited our needs (diversity of palate and limited time)?! Too funny. But I had a fresh mozzarella, 'mato and basil sammich that was TO DIE FOR.

Afterwards, we saw why might easily be THE FUNNIEST play EVER. EH-VER. I know it was the funniest I've ever seen. I (I wish literally) laughed my a$$ off! Oh, it was poignant and touching and humorous and compelling. What a wonderfully brilliant show. And I'd never been to any of the theaters on the Veterans' Administration grounds (actually, rather ominous, especially going by the imposing Mental Health Administration building - I could see all sorts of psych experiments being perfomed there!), and the Brentwood is just lovely. Very intimate.

So. . . How was YOUR weekend?!

Previous| Join | Next

Long Time, No Post

2006-10-26T16:02:00.000-07:00
Sorry for the absence, but (1) recovery from the first ever WeHo SnB HAPPY Hour took longer than expected; and (B) they're making me earn my keep again!

First, let me just say that L. Ron Hubbard towed my car. Just another reason to hate the crazies. Second, let me just say, I really need to get out more often, so that when I do, I don't act like a 16 year old cheerleader drinking grain alcohol for the first time. REALLY. Thank the gods there are still nice folks in Hollyweird that will take care of a loser drunk like me, I still had the good sense to walk away from a bad situation, and Jman and the WMG don't mind getting up at 1:40 ON A SATURDAY MORNING to pick my sorry arse up.

Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea culpa. I promise not to sin no mo'. At least, not until the next WeHo SnB HAPPY Hour. :)

I'mma baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad gurl.

OH WAIT - One more praise - to the gods of pharmacology: Thank you GOPs (Can you imagine?!) for Ambien. I was able to sleep off the most horrendous hang over EVER by taking just one of your beautiful weetle pee-els. I got off a lot easier than I should have. (EARLY pix here, iffin yer innerested.)

Previous| Join | Next

2006-10-18T14:35:00.000-07:00
Well, the WeeMonkeyGurl’s birthday weekend was a blast. Friday night, we headed down Anaslime way. . . we had the hotel room for three (3!!!) nights. Managing to hit all Friday nite rush hour traffic, we got there in time to check in, and for me to make my order at Joe’s Crab Shack (none of us got crabs. . . that we know of!) before returning to the room to watch the rebroadcast of Gray’s Anatomy. See how I love my WeHo SnB group?!?! I give up watching the show on its original nite just so’s I can hang out with y’all.WMG (a/k/a, the UniBomber) with Cousin Alex and Uncle Mike

So. Saturday, WMG and Jman went to The Dland Parks with Cousin Alex and Uncle Mike. WMG and Cousin Alex(is that not the cutest picture EVER?!)

I saved money by sleeping in (in complete luxury!) until noon, then shopping at Target, conveniently located across the street from the hotel. I was in HEAVEN, people. I originally only intended to get tape (for present wrapping), but the weather had turned unexpectedly warm, and I had only packed jeans. I was desperately trying to find something less cumbersome that would look okay with my chaussure de jour, my platform combat boots. Clearly, shorts were out. And skirts were in SHORT supply! It appears as if the buyers at Target don’t differentiate between So Cal and Idaho when it comes to seasonal dressing. However, I managed to find some little thing that created quite the look. After purchasing that, some snackies, bottled water, extra wrapping paper, and a few little extra birdday goodies, I *still* managed to spend less than the cost of a one-day parkhopper ticket. Hmmmm….

Back to the hotel. Where I set up the “goodie bags” for the girlies. And decided why waste the lovely weather? I test ran my new skirt poolside, with some knitting to keep me occupied.

Sittin' and knittin'

It was lovely. Once the sun went down, I spent TWO HOURS wrapping presents. Mostly for WMG, but when at the FELT CLUB last weekend, I managed to find something perfect for her uncle/godfather/person-formerly-known-as-my-best-friend.

When she returned from The Parks, WMG *begged* to open “just one present”. After much pleading, I relented. She chose one, then changed her mind, but I said no, she had to open her first pick. Hee-hee. Out of ALL THE FANTASTIC PRESENTS, she picked. . . A twelve-pack of SOCKS. Not even colorful, pretty socks, but boring, white, wear-em-every-day-to-school socks. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. I am evil. I think I may have laughed a little too hard, because she ran to the bathroom crying. Hey. It was FUNNY.

And yes, once she pulled herself together, I let her open another package, and was very happy to receive the princess pjs.

AT THE CRACK OF DAWN on Sunday (a/k/a, 8 am!) we woke to prepare for our day at OG Dland. Not that I have anything against Cali Venture, but the best ride there is the roller coaster, and both Jman and WMG’s birthday-mate, Douggles, are too chicken to ride it. The wee gurlies are too young. And Douggle’s former girlfriend/new bride, the Dawnster, manages to get me into all kinds of trouble. So it’s traditional theme park for me.

Monkey-Made Momma Crown

WMG and her Unca Duggles

Man, what a racket. I think I went on a total of 5 rides. For $60. Such a bargain.

Shaka, brah

It was good to see that The Diz has finally figured out how to pander to the less-than-wholesome crowd. With the success of POC and POC2, there is a whole host of “pirate princess” items. For the most part, I was able resist the lure, but I gave in on the military-style black hat for practical reasons (I *need* it when I’m driving with the top down!!) Even though it was 2.5 times more than what I would pay at Target for the same thing, this came with a black, sparkly “Pirate Princess” patch and what look like earrings on the brim (which closely match my own multiple earrings). Combined with my camo-mini, platform combat boots, and black skully tank, I was feeling very Janet Jackson/Rhythm Nation. A few mandatory skull baubles (earrings), bangles (bracelet) and beads (necklace) later, I was DONE.

Just da Gurls

WMG got in on the pirate act, too. She would not relent until she got the PIRATE PRINCESS mouse ears. Apparently, all the goods we got are available only on the campus (including, I assume, Downtown Diz), because I haven’t been able to find the items on-line.
Since D2 & The Gurls had to work/school the next day, we left the park (relatively) early.

Which was okay by me, because I was a bit Dlanded-out. Besides, we had PRESENTS to open!!!!

Opening pressies!

WMG Booty!!

After another night of blissful, air-conditioned, clean-sheeted sleep, we journeyed homeward. Good times were had by all.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Previous| Join | Next

MonkeyGurlKnits

Interesting.

Johnny Penea Photography promo 3.mov

ThankYouLoveYouByeBye!

I'm Midge.

Speaking of Debauchery. . .

The Weekend

Like, OMG!!!!

Saga of the Saggy Bobbles

ISO A Perkier Bobble

So Ya Wanna Be A Rock Superstar

No one can stop me now, tonight I'm on the loose

Aw, HOLY HELL

Don't Bother Me

I Swear, It's The BOOTS!

The Road to Hell...

Warm Neck

Duuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuude.

Random Updates

The Baby Shower is THIS Weekend?!

What Next?!

Does This Look Infected?

Scene Around L.A.

You Guessed It!

I Love This Man

From the Mundane to the Sublime

You Have *GOT* To Watch This

Hey.

Queen Vic

Do You Remember. . .

Check out this site

2 Busy 2 Post

Thinkin Happy Thoughts

Crrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrazy House Guest!

Welcome to The Family

Gotta Love the Monkeyz

Ah, The Week's End

My Angel Baby

To My Five Loyal Readers

If You Live in THE VALLEY

Sigh.

At Least SOMEONE Cares About Me

I'm Bored.

Hah!

Really Quick-Like

I Wanna Say "THANKS!"

Aw, HELL

'Sup, DAWWWWWG!

I NEED HELP, Part Deux

Playing Ketchup

Sometimes Life Is Scary

Wow.

Way to Go

Black Thursday

The Joy of Being Unencumbered

The Condemned Woman Has Been Granted A Reprieve

I NEEED Help!!!!!

Happy New Year!!!

How I spent the weekend

Life's Little Questions. . .

BIG Weekend. . .

Mmmmmmmmmm... PURTY!

WTF?!?!?!!

First, A Poem

A Parting Shot

WHATEVER, Ellen!!!

Is January Over Already?!

Welcome to the World, Little One

I have officially hit The Wall

Warning - Text Heavy Post

How Sad.

We're Still Around. . .

Holy Crap

Dolly Dolly Dolly - Get Your Adverbs Here!

Again, Who Wudda Thunk It?!

HAPPA GNU EAR!

I Thought I Was A 15-Year Old Boy

It wasn't all bad...

Eye Yam Sofa King Tie Eared

An Actual Conversation

You Have GOT To Watch This

I Was SO excited