Thursday, October 28, 2010

Some NFL Teams Should be Pink*

I am NOT going to talk about what happened at the Broncos Raiders game last week.

I will, however, make a brief observation on the NFL.

Many of the teams that most need to be pink aren't.§

When all the snide and snark drains away, I still want this:

I have all kinds of good Nintendo stuff, Liberace stuff,# mascara stuff†† and maybe even a bit of knitting stuff.‡‡

Really... stay tuned!§§

*FOOTNOTE (asterisked... no, seriously): That's "pink" as in "Victoria's Secret," not "Pink" as in "Get This Party Started."

FOOTNOTE (crossed): Brother texted me: "What the hell happened? I came in, it was 0-0, I put the groceries away, it was 14-0" While I was answering him, trying to find different ways to say "suck," they scored again. Dr. Doom opted for donuts at Safeway as a viable fun alternative to the game. OK, now I'm really not going to talk about it. And it truly takes a saint not to bitch about such a debacle.

FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Look how funny I am! I made a panty pun!

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): Detroit Lions, I'm looking at you.

FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Wii! (and in my head that's "wheeeee!" so it's another sort of pun, just doesn't translate well to print)

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Really.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Really.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Shock and awe!

§§FOOTNOTE (the mind boggles. Twice.): This blog is what RSS feed was MADE for.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Werk of the Day

I had a dream last night that Hans and I jokingly set up Cat for Scale as an oil property - oh, not in any real way. This wasn't some elaborate practical joke. We just got to giggling about oil property sales and how some people must pick properties they want to buy or sell and... voila! Cat for Sale!

During our weekly conference call with the marketer on our current divestiture, Hans made an aside about the Nine Lives 4-1 well and the marketer overheard us and asked the API number.§ We thought he knew we were joking, so we made up an API number, randomly adding digits until he stopped us.

Then the ersatz well showed up on the sales brochure that went out to potential buyers.

Then we had to explain to the Senior VP and General Counsel that it was a joke.

Then the Senior VP and General Counsel explained to us how you never want to remove items from the sales brochure, only add them.

Meanwhile, the API number we fabricated turned out to be in the hottest oil field in the western hemisphere and high-powered multinational oil conglomerates were in a bidding war on my cat.

My freakin' cat.

I need to go work at McDonalds now.#

Or maybe I need a vacation.††

FOOTNOTE (crossed): Like some girls pick football teams in the pool - the uniforms are pretty, I used to know a guy from Tennessee, that Tom Brady is just so dreamy... not that guys couldn't possibly do this to, but I've never heard one admit to it.

FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Which is French for "couple of dumb-asses."

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): A social security number for wells - all unique, never used twice, the first two digits indicate the state, the next three are the county and the remaining are a unique identifier, occasionally incorporating coding for horizontal or offshore or other types of wells.

FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): This is true. If we're not sure about something, we leave it out so later we can go, "Surprise! We found you 1200 more acres and a tank farm!"

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Though I fear two months at McDonalds would bring dreams of the cat with a side of fries.

††FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Bright light city gonna set my soul, gonna set my soul on fire...

Thursday, September 23, 2010


America before Pearl Harbor... in vivid Kodachrome.

Sure, not my usual fare, but I love this stuff. And I love all of you. So I share.

I'm saintly that way.

Monday, September 13, 2010

Heady Stuff

How much more cooler can you get with a cupcake wrapper? None. None more cooler.

Because this cupcake wrapper goes to eleven.

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Word of the Day

Hey, look! It's my middle name!

FOOTNOTE (crossed): Those footnotes aren't just for decoration, baby.

FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Plus, Marin Anacoluthia Untiedt has such a nice ring to it.

Monday, August 30, 2010

My Life in Munitions Engineering

Christmas my freshman year in college, my father gave me a book called "Discover What You're Best At." It consisted of a number of sections, each with an SAT/IQ-style test to evaluate the test-taker's proficiency at a career skill like logic, clerical, business acumen.

When I got back to my dorm room in January, I dutifully waited for my roommate to go out catting about so I could have the two hours' required uninterrupted peace to get through the tests. I tested. Carefully, I tallied my scores.

I was off the charts in all categories%... except one.

You know those spatial relations tests? The ones where they show you a bunch of cubes stacked together in a configuration, then ask you to choose which one is the same, but from a different angle? That one, not so much.

Checking my scores against the career possibilities listed in the back of the book, it said I could be anything I set my pointy little head to§ except a mechanical engineer or munitions expert.

It said nothing about modular knitting. Maybe it should have.

As I may have mentioned, I'm knitting two Tamarix Quilt baby blankets for my two favourite# cousins.

Now, you†† can knit the thing in 100 individual squares and sew them all together. Or you can knit it together as you go along and *not* sew 100 individual squares together.

I hear you.

Heather, the designer, is very graciously shepherding@ a KAL on Ravelry. Damned good thing for some of us who are destined never to field strip an AK-47.

There's a tutorial in the magazine, part of the pattern practically, that shows how to knit the whole thing together as you‡‡ go. Problem is, my spatial retardation doesn't allow me to go there without a fight.

First, she gives instructions on how to join a square on the left or on the right. It took me ten minutes to figure out whether it was the new knitting or the old square on the left... but I got that one on my own.

Then I cast on the requisite 39 stitches for a new square, picking them up along the edge of the existing square. Only I didn't think far enough ahead to realise that 39 stitches is two sides of a square, so I should only have picked up 19 or 20 stitches, then cast on the rest. I was halfway through the new square before I realised something was horribly wrong.

THEN, since I was knitting from left to right, it never occurred to me to think right AND left. I assumed if *I* was going from left to right, the only way anything could be done was to join the old knitting on the left end of the new knitting.

NOW I've finished the first row of squares. I told Heather I was planning on knitting ten strips of squares and sewing them together, and she pointed out§§ that I¶¶ could knit the whole thing together as I went along.

*blink blink blink*

I am paralysed. How should I proceed? Should I 1) dive in and try to knit, sometimes joining on two sides, 2) stick with my original ten-strips-and-sew plan, or 3) try building a bridge in my living room for mechanical aptitude practice?^

FOOTNOTE (crossed): Possibly as a reaction to me telling him I was a theatre major.

FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): I believe it was 2.2 seconds, a statistic to make Porsche jealous. My first roommate was... social.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): Which, by the way, did nothing to help me discover what I was *best* at.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): "Free to Be... You and Me" is earworming me like a mother right now - those Target commercials don't help

FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): From the latest Interweave Knits.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): ...and most fertile.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): And by "you," I mean "I."

@FOOTNOTE (atted): Ha! Sheep joke!

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): I

§§FOOTNOTE (I am incapable of straight thinking): Very optimistically, given my proven inability to turn right when the situation called for it.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (beat the drum slowly): And by "I," I mean "Heather or some other munitions expert."

^FOOTNOTE (careted): Or - and I just thought of this one - I could knit in a spiral, forcing me to knit the last square together with FOUR other squares. To gain saint points, of course.

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Good Times, Good Times

From Kelley... who knew me when.

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

An Account of the Recent Past

How 'bout a big, ol' wide-tongued full lick of the pig?

In which we briefly explore Dr. Doom Turns 6,% Lake McConaughy, the Colorado Renaissance Festival§ and Lakeside Amusement Park

Dr. Doom's 6th birthday was animal-themed and included a visit from the Jungle Lady and her many reptiles, amphibians and bugs.

There was a snake cake.

A rubber gift snake for the birthday boy...

...which maybe should have been presented at the end of the show for minimal distraction.

Anyway, there was snake discussion.

And snake jewelry, both in the form of a Scarlet Kingsnake bracelet...

...and a python necklace.

I don't know about you, but I would never want to subject a snake to a passel of six-year-olds. Six is a... squirrely age. Though it was worth the price of admission for this exchange:

"My brother found a snake when he was camping and he caught it and he brought it home and now he has, like, six snakes."

"My brother is in jail."

The turtle races were pretty good too.

[SUMMARY: And a good time was had by all... except maybe the snakes.]

The annual trip to The Lake included a record 757,000 kids this year...

...but that didn't stop me from crossing "skinny dipping" off my bucket list.

As has become tradition,†† Shanny and I stayed up late one night at the campfire chatting, stargazing and exploring the funky, soulful world of Shanny's massive music collection.

Just after the moon dipped below the southeastern horizon, Shanny said, "I don't want to freak you out or anything, but it's a beautiful night, the weather's perfect, the moon's gone down and there's nobody around. You want to try skinny dipping?"

There we were, neck-deep in water, looking at the rural sky coated in a crust of stars. The water was cool, but not chill. Nothing nibbled at protruberances. The small-town tide lapped at our every nerve ending. We chatted, then wrapped up and got warm by the fire.

The next morning, Connie greeted me with, "I understand you got naked with my husband last night." And she giggled.

I love my friends.

Other than that, there was the usual water, sky, recreation...

Well, the Wave Runner was new this year.

But there was the usual floatilla of shiny plastic inflatables.

And the campfire.

In scientific news, The Lake was up 27 feet from where it was last year when we were there - at 96% capacity.‡‡

There wasn't a lot of beach to go around and we teamed up with a group of campers to hold our grove...

...which was under surveillance from the myriad campers who didn't come in on Thursday and maybe never found a spot to pitch their tents.§§

But, like the steadfast dragonflies,@ we held our space for the weekend.

Until it was time to say goodbye for another year.

[SUMMARY: A good time was had by all.]

Steve isn't skydiving this summer, so he has a mess of time to do other things. Under the auspices of "I haven't been to the Renaissance Festival in twenty years or more," we decided to go to the Renaissance Festival.¶¶

My how things have changed. Like Times Square, Disney has had its influence. Y'all know I've got nothing against pirates, but a good quarter of the faire now seems to be devoted to Captain Jack Sparrow.

There are no wenches, those dingy, corseted broads who kissed men with overpainted lips of crimson, neon pink and orange for a dollar. All in all, the thing where absolutely everybody is trying some gimmick to get a buck is gone.

On the bright side, there were greyhounds and ducks and the cutest little piggle## you ever did see. And a spiffy carillon.

On the other hand, a museum of medieval torture devices that was simply awful. And not for the torture.

Plus? A woman in full costume was brandished a frickin' Twilight umbrella and talking on her cell phone when the rain started. That's so not 15th century.

We decided we don't need a Renaissance Festival fix for another 20 years.

[SUMMARY: Disney should stick with movies.]

Steve and I also visited Lakeside Amusement Park.

Back in the day, Steve an I both worked at the historic Elitch Gardens,††† which was only blocks from Lakeside. From the top of the Twister at Elitch's, you could see the Vegas lights of the entry tower at Lakeside.

Now, Elitch's was classier. It maybe had better rides. And it was neater, more prone to fresh paint and never a lightbulb out of place. But Lakeside had seedy charm. There was a Fun House and far fewer families went after dark. It was a brilliant hub of overdressed late-teen and twenty-something single life.

Back in the day.

Now the Fun House is gone, possibly a victim of insurance regulations.‡‡‡ Every third ride was deconstructed or closed for repair.

Though the park was supposed to open at 6:00, there wasn't the slightest movement to test the rides, set up the ticket booths, start the hot dogs a-grillin'... it was an employee ghost town until nearly 6:30. At that time, four rides were running.

As the night went on, more rides opened - the ones that weren't under repair or chopped for parts - probably to save on payroll.§§§

The Wildcat coaster was fun and the Zoom was great fun.¶¶¶

But we left at 9:30, having ridden everything but the Merry-Go-Round, and agreed that we could go another 20 years without going to Lakeside.

[SUMMARY: We are crossing things OFF the list, Steve and I.]

That's how I spent my summer vacation.

Coming soon... current events. Like tomatoes. And knitting.

FOOTNOTE (crossed): Through words, pictures and footnotes, and mostly as an exercise in cleaning off my camera.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): In April.

FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Nudity! Alcohol! Adult situations!

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): The only place besides Steve's living room where anyone has understood my rock-paper-scissors-lizard-spock shirt.

FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Seedier than field full of wheat, sadder than a lost puppy.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Except that year we didn't.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Up from 54% the previous year.

§§FOOTNOTE (a twisty, windy road): Heh. Twelve.

@FOOTNOTE (atted): Of which there may been more of even than children.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (two left feet): As a tiny, geeky confession, I worked at the Renaissance Festival in the summer of 1986. It's what you do if you're a theatre major with a Dungeons & Dragons past.

##FOOTNOTE (tic tac): So cute he made me baby talk. And I usually only do that ironically. Hey! Ironic Babytalk would be a great name for a band.

†††FOOTNOTE (my cross to bear): NOT to be confused with the travesty that is Six Flags Elitch Gardens, and current home (right across the street from the theatre) of your dear ol' AntiM - I live where (I say) the floral clock used to be. Steve says it was the administration building. Until we have pictures, I'm sticking with "floral clock."

‡‡‡FOOTNOTE (old fashioned wooden coaster tracks): Steve thinks maybe an ADA thing, though he kept saying "ADD," which I thought was funny.

§§§FOOTNOTE (a shocking turn of events): Steve thinks maybe more because the employees straggle in, hungover, whenever they straggle in.

¶¶¶FOOTNOTE (upright brigade): Which is a skyshot like the one on top of the Stratosphere in Vegas, with a slow lift followed by a free-fall. I couldn't help point out (because I'm twelve) that it looked like a giant, colour-changing penis against the dusky sky, to which Steve added the image of a cock ring carrying people up and down it. Quite ruined the ride for Steve.

Victoria's Secret?

The sultry little tramp knits.

Cableknit Sweater Corset

And here I'd always thought of her as more of a crochet girl.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Saturday, July 31, 2010

Riding the Coattails

It's kinda hot and I'm doing the blog equivalent of sprawling on a hammock and letting someone fan me with palm fronds.

Look what Donna found.

And, y'know... she's a hell of a hammock fanner.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010


Actually, I'm irritated in an old geezer you-kids-get-off-my-lawn way about blown-up-in-my-backyard fireworks right now.

Huh. I've already digressed and I haven't even started talking yet.

There are three great things I saw this weekend that I wish to share, plus a bonus of two happy things that happened:
  1. I landed home Saturday afternoon and flipped on the TiVi.§ There was a baseball game right in front of me, which I was just about to turn off, when I noticed the player up to bat was Angel Pagan. I wish I could have kids so I could name one of them Angel Pagan.
  2. Driving to Jerusalem Restaurant for a very patriotic Third of July dinner, I passed the giant convent/Catholic convalescence home in the 'hood. There was a Barbie-pink scooter waiting at the giant gate to make a left onto 29th. "Wish I had a camera," I thought. "This would be a great blog bit." Then the scooter pulled in behind me and it was a bearded guy in aviator sunglasses and that made it all the better.
  3. On the same drive, I was at a red light and across from me were two of the whitest, yuppiest, Chanel sunglass-wearing, designer polo shirt-clad 30-something dinks# ever seen, playing a vuvuzela and waving a South African flag out of the sunroof on their BMW. I'm not saying they *couldn't* be South African, but if they are, they're on the wrong side of the popular political tracks and maybe shouldn't be displaying the equivalent of one of us wearing a loin cloth and a feathered headdress and doing the Tomahawk Chop out of the windows of our BMWs.
Then I got to Jerusalem and the ever-so-adorable chicklet who took my order asked what my shirt meant.

"Rock-paper-scissors... lizard-spock," I replied to a peal of delighted laughter.

Then she cooed and exclaimed over my emergency wallet.††

It was a good day.

And that was a totally elegant segue into a package% from my not-so-secret-pal Jo.‡‡ Because my emergency wallet looks like this:

And Jo, not knowing a thing about my emergency wallet,§§ sent me this soap:

Which was an adjunct to that month's subject prize, the washcloth¶¶:

And came with a bonus soap dish:

And totally bath-related pirate cupcake set##:

So thank you, Jo, both for your patience and for the lovely gifts.

Give me another two months and I should be caught up.

FOOTNOTE (crossed): But real fireworks, performed by professionals, are one of my favourite things.

FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): That may be a record. Lyda's going to be so proud when she sees.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): As one does.

FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): I took Spanish, so I know it's pronounced "ON-hell pa-GONE," but he'll always be Angel Pagan to me. Plus? If you Google "Angel Pagan" (even without the quotation marks), you don't get a single religious reference for pages.

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): And I mean both in terms of "Jebus Cats, what a couple of dinks" and "Double Income No Kids."

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): The wallet that goes in my pocket in which I keep my driver's license, debit card and a small chunk of cash to hold me over when I leave my purse somewhere three times out of ten. Usually home, mind you, but one should have the necessities with one. If that one has juvenile onset Alzheimer's like this one does.

%FOOTNOTE (percented): I'm smooth like peanut butter. Note how I not only tied it all together with the Cute as Hell theme, I managed to not let on that this package arrived two months ago and I'm just getting to it now.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Who just revealed herself to me per the terms of our year-long swap agreement, in which I was totally wishy-washy and said, "Oh, let's be secret for six months, then not-secret for six months." I am fair, if indecisive.

§§FOOTNOTE (sssupposedly): I think.

¶¶FOOTNOTE (two heads better than one): Which was hard to photograph adequately, but does, indeed, have a black skull motif rampant on a black background.

##FOOTNOTE (that's the symbol for shock): Why? Where do you eat your cupcakes?

Saturday, July 3, 2010

p.s. -

Responsible bloggers don't drink and blog.

Aren't you glad I *pffffft* in the face of responsibility?

Friday, July 2, 2010

We Interrupt Our Blog Schedule†...

I'm puttering through a handful of blogposts, including:
  • Pole dancing
  • The many wonderful things my year-long now-not-so-secret pal§ has sent me
  • The many wonderful things Nintendo has sent me
  • Stupid sparkly handspun and an executive tiara#
In the meantime, let me amuse myself by telling you - quickly - that Hans

[our Hans]

went to see

[brace yourself]


[in IMAX††]

on opening night.‡‡

Take a moment.§§

FOOTNOTE (crossed): BWAHAHAHA! Because I'm sure you're setting your watch by my blog these days. Schedule... BWA!

FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Because puttering is the order of the day here at Chez Barfly.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): All will be explained in due time. Perhaps now would be a good time for another "BWAHAHAHA!"

FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Gods, I love my friends. How else would someone be browsing a wool festival and go, "Sparkly. Purple, grey. Foggy, atmospheric, sparkly... stupid sparkly... vampire. Marin"?

#FOOTNOTE (pounded): If you don't think executives should have tiaras, you're not familiar with the insecurity of executiveship. If I can confess right here, nothing in my life (not boys, not college, not spandex, not yearbook pictures) has made me more insecure than being an executive.

††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): Possibly in 3D.

‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): Bought the tickets *in advance*.

§§FOOTNOTE (turn it around): Because we love Hans, and in all fairness, he's the best of best boyfriends; his girlfriend is out of touch with her Twilight contingency, so Hans wanted her to see the movie. AND he decided that she spent a lot of time doing what he wanted to do, so maybe he should do something she wants. If more men were like Hans, there would be no sit-coms.

NOTE: It made me feel better, and may make you feel better, that Hans did not like stupid sparkly vampires.

ALSO NOTE: He told me. He didn't tell his girlfriend. In the land where sit-coms don't mean anything.

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Thank you, but...

Why the Cowboys?

My first true heartbreak as a sports fan came when the Cowboys beat the Broncos in Super Bowl XII.

We had very little money, but my parents rented a motel room in Tabernash because the motel had cable§ TV. In the mountains in 1978, we rarely saw a clear TV picture.

Cowboys. *pffft*


FOOTNOTE (crossed): ... frickin' ...

FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): As in "Where in the hell is Tabernash, Colorado?" For those of you scoring at home, I have also lived in "Where in the hell is Gunnison, Colorado?"

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): And colour!

Excuse #11

The "Why I Have Neglected My Blog" series:

I was going to stop at 10, but this wandered across my email and I had to take to my couch with the vapours, precluding blogging for a few days. Under the subject "Subject: You might want to change your mind about Twilight" and the text "After reading this brilliant plea^ for a faithful movie adaptation of the fourth book, 'Breaking Dawn':"§

Why Breaking Dawn Must Be Made

FOOTNOTE (crossed): From someone with a charmingly alarming sense of humour.

FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): I'm not sure "vapour," when used this way, should take the British spelling. "Vapours" seems like a quintessentially Southern antebellum sort of thing.

^FOOTNOTE (careted): Doubly brilliant in that it reveals that stupid vampires don't just sparkle, they SCUBA.

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): I haven't exactly changed my mind, but this did have the effect of making me wildly curious and likely to beg, borrow or steal Breaking Dawn just so I can witness the train wreck for myself.

FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): I know there are a bunch of delicate flowers out there. Thematically, linguistically... you're gonna want to take to your couch with the vapors.

ETA: This excuse goes to 11!

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Excuse #10

The "Why I Have Neglected My Blog" series:

I don't know exactly what it is, but I suspect it was Hans's doing.


I had to take a little trip to the 1999 Building this afternoon. While I was there, I went to the information desk and asked about the arms.

First, let me take a moment to mention that the brain trust that runs the information desk was none too geeked about my asking. Not reluctant, not angry, but not particularly inquisitive or bright.^

He did, however, have an answer: it's a permanent mobile scaffolding§ for window washing.

Crack investigative reporter that I am, I was prepared to ask him probing questions - did they find it more economical to hire window washers who didn't bring their own scaffolding? did window washers stop bringing their own scaffolding? did they ever decorate the arms with Christmas lights in a festive nod to the holiday season? could I do that for them?

Alas, I sensed he was in no mood to get all Vanity Fair about it, so you get the Dear Abby version instead.

Still, you had a right to know.

FOOTNOTE (crossed): Screw it. I'm doing footnotes.

FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Because that's the kind of information service I provide to you, the Rickety consumer.

^FOOTNOTE (careted): C'mon... if you were in his shoes and someone asked you something other than "do you know when the next train comes?" or "which floor for Time Out Temps?" wouldn't you be jazzed?

§FOOTNOTE (swerved): My words, not his. He may or may not be familiar with "scaffolding."

FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): 1.5 column inches. But Abby never did footnotes.

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Excuse #9

The "Why I Have Neglected My Blog" series:

Because I don't think I can go any further without a brownie, thanks to Sarah.

Excuse #8

The "Why I Have Neglected My Blog" series:

The sun was in my eyes?

Excuse #7

The "Why I Have Neglected My Blog" series:

Internet sabbatical.

I've been Internetally active for 17 years. Every now and then, I overload and I don't want to have anything to do with the passwords and the typing and the flaming and the Princespeak and the lost hours and the lack of sunshine.

The combination of Facebook (which I'm growing to loathe, but will lose a bunch of people if I don't stay), Twitter (which I love to death) and this blog (which I need to remind myself is mine and I can do what I want with it) is a lot more than I've ever maintained before.

I was tired of it.

Excuse #6

The "Why I Have Neglected My Blog" series:

I'm trying a bunch of new stuff, like embroidery and pole dancing and considering entering a writing challenge and you don't want to hear about those until I know what I'm talking about.

OK. That one was really weak.

Excuse #5

The "Why I Have Neglected My Blog" series:

Some days I'm just not funny.

Excuse #4

The "Why I Have Neglected My Blog" series:

I have moments of extreme guilt over not properly lauding My Friends at Nintendo, my Year Long Swap Pal, Anna-Liza and others who have sent me lovely things that I'm really very grateful for and I want to put up pictures, but there's this thing with a camera cable...

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Excuse #3

The "Why I Have Neglected My Blog" series:

I am tired of footnotes. Partly because they're exhausting and time-consuming and sometimes I don't feel clever enough to do them, and partly because a couple of people have said mean things about them and now I'm self-conscious about the footnotes.

So I think the footnotes may have to go.

I'm considering a system of italics and clear speaking.

Excuse #2

The "Why I Have Neglected My Blog" series:

I hate to play the executive card, but I did just take a job not that long ago. And, while I'd swear I wasn't doing half as much as I was before The Big Move (trust me, for me, it was HUGE), I seem to be roughly one bazillion times as busy.

Stupid paperwerk.

I am a Grateful Show-Off

LOOK! This is the last batch of stuff before I hid my camera cable from myself.

I love it! My swap pal is the BEST! She's so awfully clever - just look at the knitting pirates.

There's more! I've received a full complement of spiffy stuff from Swap Pal.

More will come, but until then, oooh and aaah at the pretty, pretty bounty.

Still-secret Swap Pal, I am truly grateful despite my callous ways.

And this! Because The Moo loves me, she has contributed to my collection of Stupid Sparkly Sweethearts!

I'm going for eBay glory one of these days...

And a SKULL bag. For the grocery store. So the crunchy granola kids who check me out at Sunflower Market can tell me how rad I am.

Yep. Those are my friends: giving me the illusion of radosity for nearly 43 years now.

Excuse #1

The "Why I Have Neglected My Blog" series:

I lost my camera cable. Instead of leaving it plugged into the USB port where I always know where it is, I coiled it up neatly and put it in my drawer and promptly forgot about it.

I am shocked - SHOCKED, I tell you - that it didn't suddenly spring out of the drawer the second I decided to buy a new one.

But I didn't buy a new one because, eh, I wasn't really blogging that much anyway.

Vicious circle.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Barbie Plastic

You wouldn't believe me if I told you. You'd think I was exaggerating or getting snarky or weird or something.

Barbie Plastic.

Just go look.

Then come back and tell me how much you want a Barbie Shoe Ring.

Wednesday, April 28, 2010