penn put his cheek against mine and just sat there so sweet. long enough for daddy to get the camera and take this somewhat blurry, but adorable picture of us.
Oct 31, 2004
Oct 30, 2004
then pudding
i could've been on the news today, but i was lazy. mothers for kerry were meeting for a rally today at the town hall (?) and i was sooo going. i tried to get someone to go with me because then i knew i would get there because of the obligation, however . . .. 2 o'clock came around and i hadn't gotten directions yet. the rally was supposed to only be for an hour and i figured we'd miss it. damnit. just saw it on the 10 o'clock news and it looked like a blast.
we had a wonderful saturday though! on our way to whole foods we passed the west village where there seems to always be an animal adoption going on. cute puppies everywhere. i take penn to see them every time i can, so we made the block and played with fluffy cuteness. one dog barked a lot and loudly and i think disturbed penn a bit, but it was still fun. the weather was so nice that even though i was parked directly in front of a sign that said "if you park here and walk across the street you will be towed" and of course, i walked across the street, we took a nice walk. weekends in the west village are so fun and busy.
national coming out day was october 11th, but i'd swear it was today. it was cute, refreshing, to see even young teenage boy couples together. hard for a 16 year old gay boy to get a date in texas, i'd imagine, but you wouldn't guess it today. then again, we do live in the west village, which, according to the charts (yes, there are charts. you'll have to believe me because i can't find the link now) is one of the most highly populated gay and lesbian areas of dallas.
then, on to whole foods where penn got angry because i took a bar of sandalwood soap from his mouth in the whole body aisle. 365 botanical shampoo and conditioner is my new favorite shampoo ever. benji smells me every day and tells me how good my hair smells. you'd think i'd get tired of that, wouldn't you. but i don't.
then home for a smoothie. we drink a smoothie every day for a snack. penn puts the straw in his mouth and does not take it out until he hears the little gurgly sounds that mean the cup is empty.
smoothie recipe: in a large glass, 3 whole strawberries, 1/2 banana, 1/2 cup vanilla yogurt, 1/4 cup (estimate) apple juice, and fill the rest up with very vanilla soy milk. blend. yum!
then to the park where we played and chased birds and walked everywhere. penn can almost stand up on his own without holding on to something. mmmm, so proud.
he threw three mini fits today. once, in the grocery over the soap. one at home because he wanted the phone while i was talking to daddy. and one at the park because he wanted in the trash can and i wouldn't let him. hah. not huge fits, mind you, just that sound he makes that sounds like crying, but there are no tears. maybe a little furrowed brow, reachy arms, and frustration. he used to kick his little legs at things when he was angry. that's always cute. i always get these jealous comments from mothers about how i seem to be able to take anything out of penn's hands and he doesn't mind. mmmm, not any more. damn.
i made a list of all the pictures i have to do and there are far more than i had thought, so .. . back to work. then pudding. i'm supposed to have banana pudding for benji by the time he comes home.
we had a wonderful saturday though! on our way to whole foods we passed the west village where there seems to always be an animal adoption going on. cute puppies everywhere. i take penn to see them every time i can, so we made the block and played with fluffy cuteness. one dog barked a lot and loudly and i think disturbed penn a bit, but it was still fun. the weather was so nice that even though i was parked directly in front of a sign that said "if you park here and walk across the street you will be towed" and of course, i walked across the street, we took a nice walk. weekends in the west village are so fun and busy.
national coming out day was october 11th, but i'd swear it was today. it was cute, refreshing, to see even young teenage boy couples together. hard for a 16 year old gay boy to get a date in texas, i'd imagine, but you wouldn't guess it today. then again, we do live in the west village, which, according to the charts (yes, there are charts. you'll have to believe me because i can't find the link now) is one of the most highly populated gay and lesbian areas of dallas.
then, on to whole foods where penn got angry because i took a bar of sandalwood soap from his mouth in the whole body aisle. 365 botanical shampoo and conditioner is my new favorite shampoo ever. benji smells me every day and tells me how good my hair smells. you'd think i'd get tired of that, wouldn't you. but i don't.
then home for a smoothie. we drink a smoothie every day for a snack. penn puts the straw in his mouth and does not take it out until he hears the little gurgly sounds that mean the cup is empty.
smoothie recipe: in a large glass, 3 whole strawberries, 1/2 banana, 1/2 cup vanilla yogurt, 1/4 cup (estimate) apple juice, and fill the rest up with very vanilla soy milk. blend. yum!
then to the park where we played and chased birds and walked everywhere. penn can almost stand up on his own without holding on to something. mmmm, so proud.
he threw three mini fits today. once, in the grocery over the soap. one at home because he wanted the phone while i was talking to daddy. and one at the park because he wanted in the trash can and i wouldn't let him. hah. not huge fits, mind you, just that sound he makes that sounds like crying, but there are no tears. maybe a little furrowed brow, reachy arms, and frustration. he used to kick his little legs at things when he was angry. that's always cute. i always get these jealous comments from mothers about how i seem to be able to take anything out of penn's hands and he doesn't mind. mmmm, not any more. damn.
i made a list of all the pictures i have to do and there are far more than i had thought, so .. . back to work. then pudding. i'm supposed to have banana pudding for benji by the time he comes home.
Oct 29, 2004
always a list
things i should be doing instead of writing this:
1) finish touching up latest shoots pictures, burn them to cd, upload them to computer for client, and order prints.
2) answer ungodly amount of e-mails.
3) re-pot a plant.
4) empty diaper pail.
5) clean catbox.
6) take out trash.
7) clean toilets.
8) find where the hell that faint catpiss smell is coming from. (our kitten, catfish, peed on some bags they took out when i got the new washer. i cleaned and cleaned, but can still smell it.)
9) fold laundry.
10) make and mail my grandmother and cousins already belated birthday cards.
11) put up dishes.
12) sweep/mop--again. (damn kid and his apple juice cup.)
13) put the catfood back in the bowl. (reason: penn)
it is 10:30 p.m. i predict i will get few of these things done. *sigh* ah well. there are more important things to life than clean clothes and bathroom corners that smell like lavender. the cats are fine eating off of the floor.
benji is gone to south carolina for the weekend on a shoot. even though benji and i don't do much when he gets home from work around 8ish, i still miss him.
for the longest i lived alone. i looovvveeed living alone. i am an obsessive neat freak and enjoyed the only mess in the house being my own. i enjoy the lack of bitching. i enjoyed waking up and making as much noise as i wanted. i enjoyed cooking for myself and not having to worry if anyone else will like it. i enjoyed smoking in my house, at my old typerwriter, tapping out the days thoughts, weaving it into poetry. i enjoyed staying up very late and sleeping in very late. i enjoyed having new company over to marvel at my ability to turn an el-cheapo craphole apartment into a unique artistic abode. i enjoyed the complete control and perfection that was mine.
and now---now i have to wake up early and follow a mess around all day long. i have to endure benji coming out of the bedroom in his underwear to give me a wicked angry sleepy head look because penn and i are playing the catapiller xylophone too early. i have to endure benji's grunts and groans as i bring talky little penn into the bedroom so i can get dressed. i have to endure this baby thing pulling on my leg all day long begging for this or that and everything. i have to endure another contained box of shit (cat box and diaper pail) in my house. i have to endure sticky everything plus floors (i'm a real stickler for a dirty floor). i have to do every dish as it gets dirty or face a mountain. same with clothes.
and you know what all this does to me?! makes me lonely when benji goes to south carolina for the weekend.
off to the list.
1) finish touching up latest shoots pictures, burn them to cd, upload them to computer for client, and order prints.
2) answer ungodly amount of e-mails.
3) re-pot a plant.
4) empty diaper pail.
5) clean catbox.
6) take out trash.
7) clean toilets.
8) find where the hell that faint catpiss smell is coming from. (our kitten, catfish, peed on some bags they took out when i got the new washer. i cleaned and cleaned, but can still smell it.)
9) fold laundry.
10) make and mail my grandmother and cousins already belated birthday cards.
11) put up dishes.
12) sweep/mop--again. (damn kid and his apple juice cup.)
13) put the catfood back in the bowl. (reason: penn)
it is 10:30 p.m. i predict i will get few of these things done. *sigh* ah well. there are more important things to life than clean clothes and bathroom corners that smell like lavender. the cats are fine eating off of the floor.
benji is gone to south carolina for the weekend on a shoot. even though benji and i don't do much when he gets home from work around 8ish, i still miss him.
for the longest i lived alone. i looovvveeed living alone. i am an obsessive neat freak and enjoyed the only mess in the house being my own. i enjoy the lack of bitching. i enjoyed waking up and making as much noise as i wanted. i enjoyed cooking for myself and not having to worry if anyone else will like it. i enjoyed smoking in my house, at my old typerwriter, tapping out the days thoughts, weaving it into poetry. i enjoyed staying up very late and sleeping in very late. i enjoyed having new company over to marvel at my ability to turn an el-cheapo craphole apartment into a unique artistic abode. i enjoyed the complete control and perfection that was mine.
and now---now i have to wake up early and follow a mess around all day long. i have to endure benji coming out of the bedroom in his underwear to give me a wicked angry sleepy head look because penn and i are playing the catapiller xylophone too early. i have to endure benji's grunts and groans as i bring talky little penn into the bedroom so i can get dressed. i have to endure this baby thing pulling on my leg all day long begging for this or that and everything. i have to endure another contained box of shit (cat box and diaper pail) in my house. i have to endure sticky everything plus floors (i'm a real stickler for a dirty floor). i have to do every dish as it gets dirty or face a mountain. same with clothes.
and you know what all this does to me?! makes me lonely when benji goes to south carolina for the weekend.
off to the list.
they're not "our" people
words i hope never come out of my mouth: "you're hanging around the wrong crowd."
right now i have the luxury of choosing penn's "friends." (see: aquaintences.) i believe i've run across one little child i may just have to deny him.
first let me say, i pass no judgement on the child (1 1/2 yrs.) or mother. it's nothing either of them could probably help. but . . .this child is so whiney and territorial and full of complaints. he annoys me. as far as i can tell of penn's blooming personality, he is kind and curious and empathetic and joyous. he smiles and laughs. he doesn't mind sharing. when he ventured to explore something the other child (we'll call him S.) thought was his, S. whined and cried. at first, penn was concerned. "why is he sad?" he seemed to wonder. then penn realized that it was because he touched certain things that were not S.'s, but that S. thought were somehow his, that S. cried. so then, every time S. cried, penn would poke his bottom lip up at me and cry. poor little guy. this possesive kid whined every five minutes.
once S.'s mother was holding something both children were interested in. when penn touched it, S. cried, so his mother grabbed another thing, exactly like she was holding, for penn to hold. S. wouldn't have that either. geez louise. i've never even seen this kid smile.
S.'s mother sort of encouraged penn to touch his things in order to get him used to it. at first this was fine. then no. i will not have my child traumatized so that you're child can learn how to not be annoying.
i think we may not be friends with S. and his mother. and that is sad, as they are nice people. but i don't think penn will mind.
right now i have the luxury of choosing penn's "friends." (see: aquaintences.) i believe i've run across one little child i may just have to deny him.
first let me say, i pass no judgement on the child (1 1/2 yrs.) or mother. it's nothing either of them could probably help. but . . .this child is so whiney and territorial and full of complaints. he annoys me. as far as i can tell of penn's blooming personality, he is kind and curious and empathetic and joyous. he smiles and laughs. he doesn't mind sharing. when he ventured to explore something the other child (we'll call him S.) thought was his, S. whined and cried. at first, penn was concerned. "why is he sad?" he seemed to wonder. then penn realized that it was because he touched certain things that were not S.'s, but that S. thought were somehow his, that S. cried. so then, every time S. cried, penn would poke his bottom lip up at me and cry. poor little guy. this possesive kid whined every five minutes.
once S.'s mother was holding something both children were interested in. when penn touched it, S. cried, so his mother grabbed another thing, exactly like she was holding, for penn to hold. S. wouldn't have that either. geez louise. i've never even seen this kid smile.
S.'s mother sort of encouraged penn to touch his things in order to get him used to it. at first this was fine. then no. i will not have my child traumatized so that you're child can learn how to not be annoying.
i think we may not be friends with S. and his mother. and that is sad, as they are nice people. but i don't think penn will mind.
Oct 28, 2004
movie review: supersize me
penn and i are pescatarian. (we're vegetarian except for seafood) (sidenote: i was going to just add a link to "pescatarian," rather than explain it, but have found vegatarians call us posers. couldn't find one positive informational page about pescatarians!)
we eat mostly fresh organic foods, aside from frozen "veggie meats." i felt guilty once, about always warming up penn a veggie meat of some sort and then realized---hard to get fresh veggie burgers. most "home cooked" veggie meals are ones penn can't feed himself and penn is all about feeding himself. not to mention the fact that he's quite impaitent when it comes to his dinner. i am soliciting all pre-toddler veggie recipes here.
tonight, as i worked away on the lastest shoots pictures i watched "Super Size Me." if ever i needed validation on my food views (and i don't) this is it. if you pay attention, this documentary will successfully curb your mac attack.
director morgan spurlack spends thirty days eating nothing but mcdonald's food, ordering everything on the menu at least once and "super-sizing" his order if asked. (paraphrased from the netflix sleeve) the effects fast food has on his body is amazing. he gained 17 lbs in 12 days! what took him one month to put on took him 9 months to get off. he ate more fast food in one month then approved by nutrionists to eat for eight years. doctors kept up with all the numerical stats i can't remember now, but apparently prove his liver turned to fat among other disgusting things. is that possible? your liver turning to fat? perhaps i heard wrong.
i wasn't amazed at the effects of mcdonalds on a human body. that should be evident. i was fascinated by a story done on lunch menus. disgusting fat laden sugar ridden foods. and sure, kids get a choice: of pizza, fries, little debbies, soda pop . . .etc. one school for "troubled kids" changed their lunch menu for little cost difference. they served only fresh organic foods and no soda pop or candy bars. they noticed a big difference in the attitude and grades of their students. amazing.
life gives life, as they say. death gives death.
we hardly ever eat out at a resturant and i eat fast food maybe once every two months. usually fries if i do. i may never hit a drive thru ever again. (and why do they spell it "thru?") those yellow arches----the make me cringe now.
four stars. two thumbs up.
we eat mostly fresh organic foods, aside from frozen "veggie meats." i felt guilty once, about always warming up penn a veggie meat of some sort and then realized---hard to get fresh veggie burgers. most "home cooked" veggie meals are ones penn can't feed himself and penn is all about feeding himself. not to mention the fact that he's quite impaitent when it comes to his dinner. i am soliciting all pre-toddler veggie recipes here.
tonight, as i worked away on the lastest shoots pictures i watched "Super Size Me." if ever i needed validation on my food views (and i don't) this is it. if you pay attention, this documentary will successfully curb your mac attack.
director morgan spurlack spends thirty days eating nothing but mcdonald's food, ordering everything on the menu at least once and "super-sizing" his order if asked. (paraphrased from the netflix sleeve) the effects fast food has on his body is amazing. he gained 17 lbs in 12 days! what took him one month to put on took him 9 months to get off. he ate more fast food in one month then approved by nutrionists to eat for eight years. doctors kept up with all the numerical stats i can't remember now, but apparently prove his liver turned to fat among other disgusting things. is that possible? your liver turning to fat? perhaps i heard wrong.
i wasn't amazed at the effects of mcdonalds on a human body. that should be evident. i was fascinated by a story done on lunch menus. disgusting fat laden sugar ridden foods. and sure, kids get a choice: of pizza, fries, little debbies, soda pop . . .etc. one school for "troubled kids" changed their lunch menu for little cost difference. they served only fresh organic foods and no soda pop or candy bars. they noticed a big difference in the attitude and grades of their students. amazing.
life gives life, as they say. death gives death.
we hardly ever eat out at a resturant and i eat fast food maybe once every two months. usually fries if i do. i may never hit a drive thru ever again. (and why do they spell it "thru?") those yellow arches----the make me cringe now.
four stars. two thumbs up.
Oct 27, 2004
consumer report
eating and drinking for baby is reserved for the high chair. although i am an obsessive compulsive neat freak at heart, i allow as much mess as penn needs to make at home with eating and playing. however, i try to contain it on moppable surfaces.
there have been some exceptions. if i'm eating something at the kitchen table, which is technically in the living room due to bad apartment design (the floorplan labels it a dining room----i seriously beg to differ), and penji wants a taste, then i let him. this exception has gotten out of hand. now he drinks in the living room all the time. drinks and dribbles and turns his cup upside down and carries it everywhere. he carries his little plastic cup with straw around to every room leaving little apple juice and water trails. once these little dribbles get walked on enough they turn to little dirty stain trails marking the path of baby penn and his worship of his little plastic cup with straw. not a big deal----but the little stains drive me crazy.
i tried woolite oxyclean and scrubbed and scrubbed the stains into a faint and distracting memory. i scrubbed so hard i made the carpet fuzzy. woolite oxyclean made my fingers turn white and sting. when i ran out i went to the store for more carpet cleaner. instead of the painful woolite i got resolve spot magic. it claims to dissolve tough stains instantly. these alleged removable stains include greasy food, motor oil, red wine, ink, coffee and grape juice. i bought it.
i am telling you, in seriousness and honesty, RESOLVE SPOT MAGIC REALLY WORKS EVEN BETTER THAN IT SAYS IT WILL! no lie. all of my dribble stains are gone. even the old ones that woolite didn't work on. i am thrilled.
something else i recommend: celestial seasonings teahouse chai: honey vanilla white tea. i use 1 bag, 3/4 water, 1/4 very vanilla soymilk, and 1 teaspoon sugar. combine all and nuke for 1:30. loan the baby out for thirty minutes, sip, and enjoy.
there have been some exceptions. if i'm eating something at the kitchen table, which is technically in the living room due to bad apartment design (the floorplan labels it a dining room----i seriously beg to differ), and penji wants a taste, then i let him. this exception has gotten out of hand. now he drinks in the living room all the time. drinks and dribbles and turns his cup upside down and carries it everywhere. he carries his little plastic cup with straw around to every room leaving little apple juice and water trails. once these little dribbles get walked on enough they turn to little dirty stain trails marking the path of baby penn and his worship of his little plastic cup with straw. not a big deal----but the little stains drive me crazy.
i tried woolite oxyclean and scrubbed and scrubbed the stains into a faint and distracting memory. i scrubbed so hard i made the carpet fuzzy. woolite oxyclean made my fingers turn white and sting. when i ran out i went to the store for more carpet cleaner. instead of the painful woolite i got resolve spot magic. it claims to dissolve tough stains instantly. these alleged removable stains include greasy food, motor oil, red wine, ink, coffee and grape juice. i bought it.
i am telling you, in seriousness and honesty, RESOLVE SPOT MAGIC REALLY WORKS EVEN BETTER THAN IT SAYS IT WILL! no lie. all of my dribble stains are gone. even the old ones that woolite didn't work on. i am thrilled.
something else i recommend: celestial seasonings teahouse chai: honey vanilla white tea. i use 1 bag, 3/4 water, 1/4 very vanilla soymilk, and 1 teaspoon sugar. combine all and nuke for 1:30. loan the baby out for thirty minutes, sip, and enjoy.
Oct 25, 2004
memories
my naked baby peed on the floor. if a grown man peed on a floor i would evict him immediatley and take away all free passes for re-entry. but, when the baby suddenly lets loose a precise and surprisingly long stream of uring beneath his fathers chair caring not that this isn't the coolest thing he's ever done, well, i must break into a sappy rendition of "memories" and grab a towel.
later, when i brought it up, benji said, "why didn't you tell me? i kept wondering what that wet spot i was stepping in was!" hah. i did tell him, he was just on the phone, and i thought i soaked it up with a towel.
another recent gross memory: we have magnetic poetry on our refrigerator that penn is fascinated with. apparently he ate the word "to." i know this because i found the word "to" in his diaper, among the normal diaper occuping items. namely poo.
later, when i brought it up, benji said, "why didn't you tell me? i kept wondering what that wet spot i was stepping in was!" hah. i did tell him, he was just on the phone, and i thought i soaked it up with a towel.
another recent gross memory: we have magnetic poetry on our refrigerator that penn is fascinated with. apparently he ate the word "to." i know this because i found the word "to" in his diaper, among the normal diaper occuping items. namely poo.
a re-representation
ahhh, it appears i have grossly misrepresented myself. here is a comment from brian in response to my post about ashlee simpson's embaressment on saturday night live:
Maybe it's time to remember some basics. The real musicians are not the performance "artists" that populate MTV. The real musicians are not always the ones with the straight teeth and the cute little belly-baring shirts. The real musicians aren't acoustically edited and tonally augmented to correct for those naggingimperfections. The real musicians are in clubs and on street corners busking for your change. You can tell them in a minute. They have something to say and their roughness and passion are real, not packaged or scripted.They're not on television being busted on SNL. They are people who are living in small towns in West Virginia, students playing in coffeehouses on campus for a dozen people, individuals with an mp3 on some obscure website.In fact, they're saying it, not mouthing it.More on my blog at http://mojobanjo.blogs.com
well written and i agree one thousand percent. i am a musician. a poet. a songwriter. a painter. a photographer. an artist. i play piano, guitar, all brass instruments and i sing. i have been there---in that small town, in that coffeehouse on that campus and in my living room playing for a dozen people. i have put my change in the hats on corners. i have had something to say and i have said it. i have publically shamed pop loving idots and led them to the light.
and you know what? somewhere, somehow, i quit hiding the fact that i didn't change the channel when ashlee simpson's show came on. worse yet, i actually watch mtv. (again, there's that old post that explains why i watch mtv, lest you judge me.) i actually told one of my friends. a musical genius who prides himself on his astute ear. i figured he would laugh along with me at such an embaressing secret. he said, and seriously, "i wouldn't admit that if i were you." and i felt small. and then i felt bad about all the people i had shamed and wondered if i had only led them into some closed-minded little music club.
i'm older now. my instant disdain meter barely registers. live and let live.
i am not ashlee's biggest fan. i will not be attending concerts or buying t-shirts or albums or putting posters on the wall. i simply do not care. she and others give me nothing to care about and i would rather spend my time caring than wasting it on pop idol fans. (oooh, note the current level of hypocrasy here, hah.) overall, i'm just not a hater. (now . ..there are some . . .but we won't get into that now.) i have guilty pleasures. yay. i'm normal.
thinkspot readers should note that brian is a muscian and an author whose book is illustrated by r. crumb. mmmmm, crumb. why do i tell you that? i dunno. makes his musical opinion more credible to me. go to his website. support his music. and leave me the hell alone about watching that simspon show. i think she's cute. is that so wrong?
Maybe it's time to remember some basics. The real musicians are not the performance "artists" that populate MTV. The real musicians are not always the ones with the straight teeth and the cute little belly-baring shirts. The real musicians aren't acoustically edited and tonally augmented to correct for those naggingimperfections. The real musicians are in clubs and on street corners busking for your change. You can tell them in a minute. They have something to say and their roughness and passion are real, not packaged or scripted.They're not on television being busted on SNL. They are people who are living in small towns in West Virginia, students playing in coffeehouses on campus for a dozen people, individuals with an mp3 on some obscure website.In fact, they're saying it, not mouthing it.More on my blog at http://mojobanjo.blogs.com
well written and i agree one thousand percent. i am a musician. a poet. a songwriter. a painter. a photographer. an artist. i play piano, guitar, all brass instruments and i sing. i have been there---in that small town, in that coffeehouse on that campus and in my living room playing for a dozen people. i have put my change in the hats on corners. i have had something to say and i have said it. i have publically shamed pop loving idots and led them to the light.
and you know what? somewhere, somehow, i quit hiding the fact that i didn't change the channel when ashlee simpson's show came on. worse yet, i actually watch mtv. (again, there's that old post that explains why i watch mtv, lest you judge me.) i actually told one of my friends. a musical genius who prides himself on his astute ear. i figured he would laugh along with me at such an embaressing secret. he said, and seriously, "i wouldn't admit that if i were you." and i felt small. and then i felt bad about all the people i had shamed and wondered if i had only led them into some closed-minded little music club.
i'm older now. my instant disdain meter barely registers. live and let live.
i am not ashlee's biggest fan. i will not be attending concerts or buying t-shirts or albums or putting posters on the wall. i simply do not care. she and others give me nothing to care about and i would rather spend my time caring than wasting it on pop idol fans. (oooh, note the current level of hypocrasy here, hah.) overall, i'm just not a hater. (now . ..there are some . . .but we won't get into that now.) i have guilty pleasures. yay. i'm normal.
thinkspot readers should note that brian is a muscian and an author whose book is illustrated by r. crumb. mmmmm, crumb. why do i tell you that? i dunno. makes his musical opinion more credible to me. go to his website. support his music. and leave me the hell alone about watching that simspon show. i think she's cute. is that so wrong?
Oct 24, 2004
poor fired guy
anyone wanna bet someone got fired tonight on saturday night live?
benji, i and millions of other saturday night live viewers witnessed a major screw up tonight. ashlee simpson was the musical guest. (yes, you know how i feel about ashley simpson. see september archives for "mtv source of rage then joy" post that i can't seem to link to.) she sang her single, pieces of me, first. on her next up, dude in the back hit the wrong button and played the same song she had first sang! so now we know: some musical guests are backed by their recorded album. hah. booooo. her band is apparently a group of mindless guitar carrying monkeys because they played along. ashley did a hoe-down and then walked off stage. they cut to a very cool picture of jude law and then to commercial. ashley never got to perform again. poor girl. she apologized at the wrap, did another hoe-down and looked cute again. c'mon. she is pretty cute.
poor girl. really, despite your opinions on her musical ability, what awful luck. poor fired guy.
i hope talkshows jump all over this because i would love to know what happened.
benji, i and millions of other saturday night live viewers witnessed a major screw up tonight. ashlee simpson was the musical guest. (yes, you know how i feel about ashley simpson. see september archives for "mtv source of rage then joy" post that i can't seem to link to.) she sang her single, pieces of me, first. on her next up, dude in the back hit the wrong button and played the same song she had first sang! so now we know: some musical guests are backed by their recorded album. hah. booooo. her band is apparently a group of mindless guitar carrying monkeys because they played along. ashley did a hoe-down and then walked off stage. they cut to a very cool picture of jude law and then to commercial. ashley never got to perform again. poor girl. she apologized at the wrap, did another hoe-down and looked cute again. c'mon. she is pretty cute.
poor girl. really, despite your opinions on her musical ability, what awful luck. poor fired guy.
i hope talkshows jump all over this because i would love to know what happened.
Oct 22, 2004
i watched a stupid movie and now i have to write about ny and show you some pictures
bronx, under train, taken from inside of car.
after you scroll through all the pics posted too small for you to appreciate, really, unfortunatley, i've posted why i decided to put ny up here.
red shirt girl. this girl and the next were my two buddies at a block party we stumbled across. all the fire hydrants were opened and there was a guy with a big pipe shooting the water at everyone. i'm not sure they had seen a digital camera because i showed them their picture and they went crazy and made me take lots of them and show them to everyone. even the adults did this! i was as wet as they are at the end from all the hugs. this was one of the best parts of the last trip.
i've been to new york and i've come back with perspective
benji and i watched "honey" tonight. i know i know. not our usual taste in film, but it's about music videos (well, choreography in music videos) and ben is directing them now, so it was just a bit of a hollywood take on it he was curious about. he just finished "flavorhood" for angie and terell (click "artists" on webpage) and will start one for "az yet" soon. mmmhmmm, they're making a come back. if you go to the movies anytime soon, you may hear "flavorhood" as it was accepted by "movie tunes" and will play before the movie, or something of that nature.
warning, bragging: (and i've said this before, but i thought your memory might need refreshing) my pictures made the cover of both of their cd's! (they are individual artists and benji shot a video for their duet.) my pictures are also the gui (graphic user interface) for their dvd menu. you know, the pretty thing with titles you click: play, extras, etc. the pics are in a gallery in the video. the character angie plays is a photographer. they're listed under "ny" at my other sight. you can also click "production stills" for a few pics i took of the video being shot. (disclaimer: my other site is in need of construction)
"honey" takes place in ny and made me realize a couple of things.
the first, i wasn't aware of: i apparently have a thing for cute eight year old dancing thug children. damn if they aren't the most adorable thing.
the second, i wasn't entirely aware of: i love ny. now, i was aware i loved this city, all of it, from the bronx to manhattan, but i wasn't always entirely sure why. i thought it was just about cities. i just like really big crowded stinky loud busy tall cities filled with bustling rude people shouting in different languages. makes me happy. i realized tonight that some of that is about putting perspective right there in my face.
here, in comfy dallas or comfy all the other places i've lived, it's not so blatent. i have perspective. i take little for granted. i'm grateful for my easy life. have i earned it? perhaps. i haven't had to bust it like some people, though. i honor all those who have helped me in one way or another.
but in ny, i am in a constant state of gratitude. the last time we were there i saw a woman who made me feel so sick, so weird, so . . .sad. she was crossing the street in front of us at a red light. she had on a short blue jean skirt. a short blue jean jacket. something tight underneath. high heels. her expression . . . .gad, her expression was so blank. so gone. so high. her eyelids were half closed and she staggered. lost. didn't see anything. zigzagged across the street, across the sidewalk, almost into things, a telephone poll, shoved it out of the way as if it had tried to trip her, then steadied herself against it, briefly, before staggering on. while she was crossing the street she turned her face to us. that sad awful high face with eyes mostly in the back of her head, her body on autopilot until her next fix. the image haunts my head and yet i'm unable to describe it to you. i don't know there is a word to describe the epitome of pathetic.
in the bronx there is a certain way you have to be in order to survive. it's a jungle, and one always has to be on gaurd. anything can happen. poverty makes people do things. lack of education makes people do things. people have to exist in numbers, prides, family, gangs, for better odds. people get so deep they can't remember the light and don't believe you if you tell them it's still there and so they shoot or get shot or both. it's not just a stereotype. there are things you will find in ny, in the bronx, on the subway, in the alley, in children's pockets, in homes, in gutters, on buses, in the mouths of mangy dogs, in the bellies of bloated pigeons that can be found nowhere else in the world. sick things. sad things. metaphorically dead things.
unlike native new yorkers i don't pretend i don't see it. i don't turn my head. i haven't gotten so used to it that i'm apathetic to the wallpaper they call trash or the curses weighing down children's tongues. i can't stare mindlessly at the floor on the subway, my head wobbling, eyes unfocused, as a man with one eye and a baggy once white t-shirt comes crawling through on his knees showing the scars on his belly the vacant right socket in his head, pleading, sobbing, for change, crawling on his hands and knees, the length of the car, and into the next.
i can't not see that. or care about that. i didn't give him money or any of the others. i never do. i don't have money to give. and i don't know how much it would help. i will not rule out that it may be more humane for him to just die.
i have to remember that it's not as hard to look at it, as it is to be it.
everything i have is to be grateful for. not just the material things that convinience me, but my outlook, is to be grateful for. my perspective is to be grateful for. new york is to be grateful for. they're are some beautiful things in the bronx. the architecture. the way people tell you exactly what they're thinking. good or bad, doesn't matter. the lack of shyness. the block parties. the loving nature of children together. the sound of music everywhere. the way everyone seems to have time to just sit together on a stoop and shoot the breeze. the smell of food everywhere. the piiizzaaaa. that huge greasy paperthin slab of cheesy goodness. the fruit stands. the old men in cool hats on benches. the way they plant a bench anywhere grass can manage to grow. and sometimes on dirt. the laundry hanging out of windows to dry. the way everyone's outside so much, way more than in the suburbs, doing something. reading. playing basketball. jump rope. walking. checkers. kissing. fighting. it's all done right there in the open. it's a bonafide carnival for people watching. and i love it. i love it.
it appears i am all ready for thanksgiving, eh?
warning, bragging: (and i've said this before, but i thought your memory might need refreshing) my pictures made the cover of both of their cd's! (they are individual artists and benji shot a video for their duet.) my pictures are also the gui (graphic user interface) for their dvd menu. you know, the pretty thing with titles you click: play, extras, etc. the pics are in a gallery in the video. the character angie plays is a photographer. they're listed under "ny" at my other sight. you can also click "production stills" for a few pics i took of the video being shot. (disclaimer: my other site is in need of construction)
"honey" takes place in ny and made me realize a couple of things.
the first, i wasn't aware of: i apparently have a thing for cute eight year old dancing thug children. damn if they aren't the most adorable thing.
the second, i wasn't entirely aware of: i love ny. now, i was aware i loved this city, all of it, from the bronx to manhattan, but i wasn't always entirely sure why. i thought it was just about cities. i just like really big crowded stinky loud busy tall cities filled with bustling rude people shouting in different languages. makes me happy. i realized tonight that some of that is about putting perspective right there in my face.
here, in comfy dallas or comfy all the other places i've lived, it's not so blatent. i have perspective. i take little for granted. i'm grateful for my easy life. have i earned it? perhaps. i haven't had to bust it like some people, though. i honor all those who have helped me in one way or another.
but in ny, i am in a constant state of gratitude. the last time we were there i saw a woman who made me feel so sick, so weird, so . . .sad. she was crossing the street in front of us at a red light. she had on a short blue jean skirt. a short blue jean jacket. something tight underneath. high heels. her expression . . . .gad, her expression was so blank. so gone. so high. her eyelids were half closed and she staggered. lost. didn't see anything. zigzagged across the street, across the sidewalk, almost into things, a telephone poll, shoved it out of the way as if it had tried to trip her, then steadied herself against it, briefly, before staggering on. while she was crossing the street she turned her face to us. that sad awful high face with eyes mostly in the back of her head, her body on autopilot until her next fix. the image haunts my head and yet i'm unable to describe it to you. i don't know there is a word to describe the epitome of pathetic.
in the bronx there is a certain way you have to be in order to survive. it's a jungle, and one always has to be on gaurd. anything can happen. poverty makes people do things. lack of education makes people do things. people have to exist in numbers, prides, family, gangs, for better odds. people get so deep they can't remember the light and don't believe you if you tell them it's still there and so they shoot or get shot or both. it's not just a stereotype. there are things you will find in ny, in the bronx, on the subway, in the alley, in children's pockets, in homes, in gutters, on buses, in the mouths of mangy dogs, in the bellies of bloated pigeons that can be found nowhere else in the world. sick things. sad things. metaphorically dead things.
unlike native new yorkers i don't pretend i don't see it. i don't turn my head. i haven't gotten so used to it that i'm apathetic to the wallpaper they call trash or the curses weighing down children's tongues. i can't stare mindlessly at the floor on the subway, my head wobbling, eyes unfocused, as a man with one eye and a baggy once white t-shirt comes crawling through on his knees showing the scars on his belly the vacant right socket in his head, pleading, sobbing, for change, crawling on his hands and knees, the length of the car, and into the next.
i can't not see that. or care about that. i didn't give him money or any of the others. i never do. i don't have money to give. and i don't know how much it would help. i will not rule out that it may be more humane for him to just die.
i have to remember that it's not as hard to look at it, as it is to be it.
everything i have is to be grateful for. not just the material things that convinience me, but my outlook, is to be grateful for. my perspective is to be grateful for. new york is to be grateful for. they're are some beautiful things in the bronx. the architecture. the way people tell you exactly what they're thinking. good or bad, doesn't matter. the lack of shyness. the block parties. the loving nature of children together. the sound of music everywhere. the way everyone seems to have time to just sit together on a stoop and shoot the breeze. the smell of food everywhere. the piiizzaaaa. that huge greasy paperthin slab of cheesy goodness. the fruit stands. the old men in cool hats on benches. the way they plant a bench anywhere grass can manage to grow. and sometimes on dirt. the laundry hanging out of windows to dry. the way everyone's outside so much, way more than in the suburbs, doing something. reading. playing basketball. jump rope. walking. checkers. kissing. fighting. it's all done right there in the open. it's a bonafide carnival for people watching. and i love it. i love it.
it appears i am all ready for thanksgiving, eh?
Oct 20, 2004
give them to me now! now, i say!
here's one they wouldn't print for me. scroll through the too-many pics i posted and read following post for story.
you have to believe me
i ordered some pictures for a client from kodak over a week ago. i've checked the box daily. i love getting packages! i love getting mail! even junk mail. every day penn and i go to the box. he carries the keys down for me and when i ask for them, he hands slams them in my hand so i can unlock the mailbox. then, we take our bundle of junk to the grassy knoll in front of our complex with the nice green st. augestine carpet grass and he walks and plays and i scour for usable coupons and try and keep him out of the street. (i saved $10.00 on our last grocery bill!)
since my pictures didn't come i checked the website for the status of my order and it read as it has consistantly for the past nine days: order recieved and in progress.
good god.
so i wrote an e-mail explaining my concern. i got an e-mail back saying my order had been canceled because the pictures appear to be copyrighted and i will have to obtain a release from the photographer before i can legally have them printed. i was outraged. i was most outraged that no one was going to tell me, i guess, and what of my money?
me in response to e-mail: i'm outraged! i AM the photographer and I OWN the copyright! etc. etc. thank you, carissa.
tap fingers in frustration on kitchen table. impatience grows. make penn lunch. call kodak.
me: explain situation to nice lady on phone.
nice lady on phone: well, the pictures look like they have been taken by a professional photographer in a studio, so you will need to get written consent before we can legally print the pictures.
me: i am a professional photographer and i took the pictures.
nice lady on phone: oh. well, we will send you some paperwork for you to fill out, then. blahblahblah and you can have an on-going release so that you won't have to go through this again. yada yada.
me: argguh.
so . . .i have to prove now to kodak that i'm the photographer of these beautiful pictures! apparently, this policy protects people like me so that people can't steal my stuff and print it without my consent. fine fine. they could've told me that a week ago.
benji laughed when i told him and says it's actually a compliment. *sigh* compliments are not supposed to be complicated.
i'm off to do paperwork now.
since my pictures didn't come i checked the website for the status of my order and it read as it has consistantly for the past nine days: order recieved and in progress.
good god.
so i wrote an e-mail explaining my concern. i got an e-mail back saying my order had been canceled because the pictures appear to be copyrighted and i will have to obtain a release from the photographer before i can legally have them printed. i was outraged. i was most outraged that no one was going to tell me, i guess, and what of my money?
me in response to e-mail: i'm outraged! i AM the photographer and I OWN the copyright! etc. etc. thank you, carissa.
tap fingers in frustration on kitchen table. impatience grows. make penn lunch. call kodak.
me: explain situation to nice lady on phone.
nice lady on phone: well, the pictures look like they have been taken by a professional photographer in a studio, so you will need to get written consent before we can legally print the pictures.
me: i am a professional photographer and i took the pictures.
nice lady on phone: oh. well, we will send you some paperwork for you to fill out, then. blahblahblah and you can have an on-going release so that you won't have to go through this again. yada yada.
me: argguh.
so . . .i have to prove now to kodak that i'm the photographer of these beautiful pictures! apparently, this policy protects people like me so that people can't steal my stuff and print it without my consent. fine fine. they could've told me that a week ago.
benji laughed when i told him and says it's actually a compliment. *sigh* compliments are not supposed to be complicated.
i'm off to do paperwork now.
the big nothing, and then something
i don't understand nothing. doing nothing. how does one "do" nothing. isn't that an oxymoron? i rarely ever sit. i only lay down to sleep, or to put penn to sleep. there are always things to be picked up and put away. especially with children and benji's. there are always dishes. litterboxes. work. myself. especially with children and benji's. and cats.
when i did yoga regularly, i sat. i cleared my mind. that was easy. because i was still "doing something." yoga. i miss yoga. i tried for a long time to contenuie a regiment and succeeded until months ago. yoga is an area of my life that appreciates instruction. alas. a bit hard with a baby.
i don't even sit on the couch. benji sits in the middle of the couch. in my mind this constitutes taking up the entire area. it makes the cusions lean in towards the middle so that my butt doesn't fit levelly, as intended. my legs don't stretch comfortably, as intended. my comfy curled up ball leans to the middle causing uncomfyness. causes my underwear to squish to the side a little bit. i think i've told him about this. i don't think he cared. anyway he still sits in the middle.
i don't even sit down and really watch a movie at home. as aforementioned, the tv's on, but nobody's watching. so, we put in really good movies and i give it a half-assed watch while i do something on the computer or crochet. i've always been so good at multi tasking it is difficult for me to focus in on one thing. perhaps that's why i enjoy photography. it's me, focusing, and a capture of that for everyone to see what i was looking at.
tonight, "mean girls" came in on the netflix train. i layed down on the floor in front of our big ass mutha tv and watched the whole movie. it was great! really. i don't think i was ever a "mean girl." (old friends are free to correct me if i'm wrong here) i knew mean girls. i understood them. i'm sure i had moments where i said things behind someone's back. that goes along with youth, i think. but i wasn't really one. i don't think i was ever hated, even though i guess i was semi-popular. that may have been just because i was a cheerleader. (for those of you who know me now----stop laughing, i was good damnit.) if anyone did dislike me, and i'm sure there were those out there, everybody's got a hater, i don't think it was for any good reason.
all that makes me happy. i "did nothing" and i wasn't a mean girl. a good day in a good life.
this afterschool special moment was brought to you by me, 1 o'clock in the a.m., with tv haze contacts in too long eyes.
when i did yoga regularly, i sat. i cleared my mind. that was easy. because i was still "doing something." yoga. i miss yoga. i tried for a long time to contenuie a regiment and succeeded until months ago. yoga is an area of my life that appreciates instruction. alas. a bit hard with a baby.
i don't even sit on the couch. benji sits in the middle of the couch. in my mind this constitutes taking up the entire area. it makes the cusions lean in towards the middle so that my butt doesn't fit levelly, as intended. my legs don't stretch comfortably, as intended. my comfy curled up ball leans to the middle causing uncomfyness. causes my underwear to squish to the side a little bit. i think i've told him about this. i don't think he cared. anyway he still sits in the middle.
i don't even sit down and really watch a movie at home. as aforementioned, the tv's on, but nobody's watching. so, we put in really good movies and i give it a half-assed watch while i do something on the computer or crochet. i've always been so good at multi tasking it is difficult for me to focus in on one thing. perhaps that's why i enjoy photography. it's me, focusing, and a capture of that for everyone to see what i was looking at.
tonight, "mean girls" came in on the netflix train. i layed down on the floor in front of our big ass mutha tv and watched the whole movie. it was great! really. i don't think i was ever a "mean girl." (old friends are free to correct me if i'm wrong here) i knew mean girls. i understood them. i'm sure i had moments where i said things behind someone's back. that goes along with youth, i think. but i wasn't really one. i don't think i was ever hated, even though i guess i was semi-popular. that may have been just because i was a cheerleader. (for those of you who know me now----stop laughing, i was good damnit.) if anyone did dislike me, and i'm sure there were those out there, everybody's got a hater, i don't think it was for any good reason.
all that makes me happy. i "did nothing" and i wasn't a mean girl. a good day in a good life.
this afterschool special moment was brought to you by me, 1 o'clock in the a.m., with tv haze contacts in too long eyes.
Oct 19, 2004
Oct 17, 2004
show stealer pleads guilty; smiles
now, i'm not a celebrity enthusiest. not at all----however, i somehow found this page of celebrity blogs that was interesting. everyone from michael moore to ru paul, quentin tarentino to kevin smith, flea (from red hot chilli peppers) to al roker, alyssa milanno to william shatner. . . lots and lots. i don't have time to read all of them, but moby's is interesting.
penn attended his first birthday party today! we showed up at 1:20 to a party that was supposed have started at 1:00. i saw a picnic table full of stuff and my old friend don wandering the park. he was the only one there. the baby and mommy had gone for balloons and were apparently lost in action. as family showed up they beamed at little penn. they hadn't met the real birthday boy and assumed penn was it. perhaps it was because i put one of those pointed birthday hats on him. which, might i add, are amazingly cute on a 10 month old boy.
soon, the real birthday boy, alexander blue arrived. alexander wasn't nearly as into the festivities arranged for him as penn was. it was all over from here. penn had officially stolen the show. most stunning to the friends and family was the fact that penn could walk. i kept telling them that he couldn't really just take off on his own just yet, but they didn't care. penn could walk, they said.
then, they bombarded poor little alexander with: "why can't you be more like penn?" (yes, i swear they really said this to the poor kid) "here," one cousin said, "we're going to teach you how to walk today." and alexander wasn't having any walking business. today is not his time, he says. one part of me delighted in the comments and adoring looks that surrounded penn. the other was sad for alexander.
now, of course it wasn't that bad. not bad at all. i'm still just sensitive to penn's blooming personality that's charming the pants off total strangers. you see, i began into this whole motherhood thing with a very finicky child. a child who made known that everyone was inferior to his mother's skills. i couldn't put penn down. not for one thing. i have, in fact, peed many times with a child on my lap. penn wouldn't sleep by himself. not even just by himself, but he had to be held and you had to be standing the WHOLE time and if you think for one second he won't notice if you set him gently and quietly in a soft bed and rest your aching arms and back, you will find yourself mistaken. this was my baby.
but now----now, he'll crawl up to total strangers and grin and laugh and play with them! now, i can let him sit in a circle of strange people while i put our picnic blanket and camera in the car and he is totally okay with that! now, if you are holding a banana, he will beg like a puppy for you to place some in his mouth, never mind that you are a TOTAL stranger and could have poisen or needles hiding in your fruit. so, i'm not used to this whole charming baby yet. but, i think i like it.
i like how he makes everyone around smile and verbally proclaim his immense intelligence. hee. i love being a mother. not just a mother, really, i love being penn's mother. gad, we're going to have so much fun together.
i'm looking forward to his first birthday party now. you're all invited. the whole damned internet, i think, is invited, but i can't promise there will be enough cake to go around. i was, at first, afraid of inviting other children. i wanted the focus on my little penji and his great big huge special day. i didn't want any show stealers. but, you know what? pen LOVES kids. he would be fascinated and happy that people his age would come out to celebrate his life. i'm starting to think it might be fun. we'll see.
penn attended his first birthday party today! we showed up at 1:20 to a party that was supposed have started at 1:00. i saw a picnic table full of stuff and my old friend don wandering the park. he was the only one there. the baby and mommy had gone for balloons and were apparently lost in action. as family showed up they beamed at little penn. they hadn't met the real birthday boy and assumed penn was it. perhaps it was because i put one of those pointed birthday hats on him. which, might i add, are amazingly cute on a 10 month old boy.
soon, the real birthday boy, alexander blue arrived. alexander wasn't nearly as into the festivities arranged for him as penn was. it was all over from here. penn had officially stolen the show. most stunning to the friends and family was the fact that penn could walk. i kept telling them that he couldn't really just take off on his own just yet, but they didn't care. penn could walk, they said.
then, they bombarded poor little alexander with: "why can't you be more like penn?" (yes, i swear they really said this to the poor kid) "here," one cousin said, "we're going to teach you how to walk today." and alexander wasn't having any walking business. today is not his time, he says. one part of me delighted in the comments and adoring looks that surrounded penn. the other was sad for alexander.
now, of course it wasn't that bad. not bad at all. i'm still just sensitive to penn's blooming personality that's charming the pants off total strangers. you see, i began into this whole motherhood thing with a very finicky child. a child who made known that everyone was inferior to his mother's skills. i couldn't put penn down. not for one thing. i have, in fact, peed many times with a child on my lap. penn wouldn't sleep by himself. not even just by himself, but he had to be held and you had to be standing the WHOLE time and if you think for one second he won't notice if you set him gently and quietly in a soft bed and rest your aching arms and back, you will find yourself mistaken. this was my baby.
but now----now, he'll crawl up to total strangers and grin and laugh and play with them! now, i can let him sit in a circle of strange people while i put our picnic blanket and camera in the car and he is totally okay with that! now, if you are holding a banana, he will beg like a puppy for you to place some in his mouth, never mind that you are a TOTAL stranger and could have poisen or needles hiding in your fruit. so, i'm not used to this whole charming baby yet. but, i think i like it.
i like how he makes everyone around smile and verbally proclaim his immense intelligence. hee. i love being a mother. not just a mother, really, i love being penn's mother. gad, we're going to have so much fun together.
i'm looking forward to his first birthday party now. you're all invited. the whole damned internet, i think, is invited, but i can't promise there will be enough cake to go around. i was, at first, afraid of inviting other children. i wanted the focus on my little penji and his great big huge special day. i didn't want any show stealers. but, you know what? pen LOVES kids. he would be fascinated and happy that people his age would come out to celebrate his life. i'm starting to think it might be fun. we'll see.
Oct 16, 2004
little feat
penn is asleep now, but i can still see him in my head, walking to the guitar all by himself. peeking his head over the edge of the bed as i read him "alice in wonderland" and then giggling and "running" away as i chase him into his stuffed linx. short, jerky little steps that make you hold your breath until he makes it to a destination decided upon by gravity. i can still see him grin. a grin that gets wider and prouder with every independent touch of tiny bare foot soles to carpet. one in front of the other without a hand or couch or coffee table to guide him. little baby penn in the midst of naked space. held breaths and hopes and squeals of delight when he doesn't fall forward or plop to his behind. however far he gets, whether i have to lean in and catch him or he makes it to something to hold, i pick him up and swing him around. bounce him and giggle and put my lips to his ear and tell him how very proud i am and how desperatley i love him and his little working legs.
he fell asleep this afternoon IN HIS HIGHCHAIR-----WHILE EATING LUNCH! it was the weirdest cutest thing i've seen since two minutes before while we practiced walking. he literally popped a bite of pear in his mouth, leaned his head back, and passed out. i watched for a minute to make sure this is what was happening and ran for the camera. while asleep, he reached clumsily for another bite and put it in his mouth, without ever opening his eyes. so sweet.
i met today with a man who wants to do a collabrative photography project to get into some dallas gallery. i don't like his work at all. i wanted to turn around right there, but it was a 15 minute trip, so i decided to stick it out. i showed him some prints i had and he flipped through them like it was yesterday's coupons. how can one decide to work with someone if they don't look at their work? he shoots digital now and tried to tell me how to use photoshop. "i know how to use photoshop," i say. and he just kept on giving miniscule tips any beginner would know and i stated again----"look, i'm a friggin photoshop whiz, aight?" still with the tips. his house smells funny. dusty, i think. i could barely breath. when i walked in i was greeted by a dog with a bald backside. mange, i feared and made a note not to touch it. i didn't even put penn on the floor for fear of the weirdo diseased canine. the man kept saying "oops" over and over for no reason. he had mentioned he wanted to shoot people. i asked him if he had shot people before. "oh, a long time ago i used to shoot people all the time." he pulled out some photo albums and every page he said, "see, see, i used to shoot people all the time." he referred to all of his pictures as "this is just me playing around, you know." get serious. and you think this big shot gallery is going to let you in with your----play things? your dusty mangy bad toys? okay. i'm being judgemental. i've no right to say what is "good" or "bad." it is all a matter of opinion. I DON'T CARE. his shit's raunchy. so's his dog bellie, who never did say hi to me, no matter how much he begged. i stayed 10 minutes tops. and told him, sure, if he's got this proposal written, or whatever and wants to try and get my work in along with his and gets some concept, please, of what he'd like to do, give me a ring. i don't think i'll be calling him. ew.
i am interested in showing, but haven't pursued it much. too busy and too indecisive. i don't know exactly what i'd show at this point either. i guess it's different for every venue. ah well. something to think about later.
sleep eating
he fell asleep this afternoon IN HIS HIGHCHAIR-----WHILE EATING LUNCH! it was the weirdest cutest thing i've seen since two minutes before while we practiced walking. he literally popped a bite of pear in his mouth, leaned his head back, and passed out. i watched for a minute to make sure this is what was happening and ran for the camera. while asleep, he reached clumsily for another bite and put it in his mouth, without ever opening his eyes. so sweet.
i met today with a man who wants to do a collabrative photography project to get into some dallas gallery. i don't like his work at all. i wanted to turn around right there, but it was a 15 minute trip, so i decided to stick it out. i showed him some prints i had and he flipped through them like it was yesterday's coupons. how can one decide to work with someone if they don't look at their work? he shoots digital now and tried to tell me how to use photoshop. "i know how to use photoshop," i say. and he just kept on giving miniscule tips any beginner would know and i stated again----"look, i'm a friggin photoshop whiz, aight?" still with the tips. his house smells funny. dusty, i think. i could barely breath. when i walked in i was greeted by a dog with a bald backside. mange, i feared and made a note not to touch it. i didn't even put penn on the floor for fear of the weirdo diseased canine. the man kept saying "oops" over and over for no reason. he had mentioned he wanted to shoot people. i asked him if he had shot people before. "oh, a long time ago i used to shoot people all the time." he pulled out some photo albums and every page he said, "see, see, i used to shoot people all the time." he referred to all of his pictures as "this is just me playing around, you know." get serious. and you think this big shot gallery is going to let you in with your----play things? your dusty mangy bad toys? okay. i'm being judgemental. i've no right to say what is "good" or "bad." it is all a matter of opinion. I DON'T CARE. his shit's raunchy. so's his dog bellie, who never did say hi to me, no matter how much he begged. i stayed 10 minutes tops. and told him, sure, if he's got this proposal written, or whatever and wants to try and get my work in along with his and gets some concept, please, of what he'd like to do, give me a ring. i don't think i'll be calling him. ew.
i am interested in showing, but haven't pursued it much. too busy and too indecisive. i don't know exactly what i'd show at this point either. i guess it's different for every venue. ah well. something to think about later.
sleep eating
Oct 15, 2004
clear the way
he walks! dear sweet blessed higher power the boy can walk! i am the most excited mother on the planet right now. he can travel a good ten steps, possibly more and does well at standing alone. he can play the "walk to mommy. good boy! now walk to daddy!" game and we just eat it up. we walk him until he just sits down and says enough.
benji and i have ordered chinese take-out and are about to sit down and watch "saved."
a good ending to a good day.
benji and i have ordered chinese take-out and are about to sit down and watch "saved."
a good ending to a good day.
Oct 14, 2004
satisfaction
when i got in the car with my company mentioned in previous post, she said, "so, why was ben so rude to you last night? i mean, we talked about it when we got home and were like: she only asked a question, geez."
Oct 13, 2004
it's very her
a producer (i think) saw some pictures i took of my friend and wants to cast her in a commercial. we had precious little time to get a headshot together. i didn't take any headshot pictures, so we had to make do. this is what we picked. it's so unconventional. i hope it works in her favor.
my whole day
penn is taking steps! real live steps, one in front of the other. i'm so proud. we spent a lot of time outside today, practicing walking and eating a rock in the park. a young hispanic (?) woman made a determined walk through the park and climbed into one of the gym things. (slide, climbing things, etc.) she sat, hidden among the colored red bars, just looking. i thought at first: what a nice place to sit and think. friends and i used to sneak into the park by the lake, back in arkansas around 3 a.m.-ish and swing and discuss the meaning of life. (remember nella?)
the hidden girl laughed at penn's crying when i wouldn't let him eat woodchips. (i gave in to the rock.)
after watching her for a while i think she might have been spying on a lovey dovey couple under a tree. she had a sort of pained look every once in a while when they spouted lovers giggles. maybe it was gas.
then we crossed the street back to our apartment and discovered the grass there had recovered from the landscapers scalping. they literally put the mower all the way to the ground and shaved it. it was disgusting. not only did they shave our loverly "yard" they spread new seeds. why? why i ask! we have st. augestine grass. i only know this because my papa taught me everything he knew about practical agriculture (names of trees, growing tomatoes, watermellons, potatoes, how to till a row, how to weed, how to prune hedges, how to plant trees, how to get rid of fire ants . . .) and st. augestine grass was his favorite grass in the whole entire world. he raved and raved about it and would take pieces from well growing spaces and stick in the ground in bare spots and we'd go back and check after a while to find a nice patch of grass taking off. he was obsessed with every inch of his land being covered with st. augestine.
st. augestine grass grows in a vine along the ground, anchoring itself in various places. it is thick. so thick that it sufforcates anything small enough for it to sufforcate so that there are no other kinds of grass that will grow. thick, lush, cool, wide blade, perfectly green carpet grass. no stickers. no weeds. so thick the squigglys can go about their business beneath your bare toes and you won't feel a thing. stupid landscapers, if you can call them that, shaved the lawn and planted that crappy thin fuzzy grass that may look great from a distance, but get close and it's like a man way past his rogaine time.
stupid landscapers. i call them mexicans with leaf blowers. i am not racist. you know that. i am mixed. my boyfriend/baby's daddy is mixed. my baby is mixed. my mother is mixed. the united colours of benetton ads are my past dating history. i will now continue without judgement. we call them: mexicans with leaf blowers. they are loud. no matter what time they decide to come, it seems it is always when penn wants to take a nap. tell me, what does a leaf blower do? really? is blowing dirt from one place to another really accomplishing anything? imagine if this is how you cleaned your house.
so, penji and i played in our beautiful st. augestine grass, in the front, where they did not put any seed.
we went to the grocery for milk. i bought a pommegranet and it is stupendous! i think i left my atm card there.
then, because penn was awake, and happy, i decided to go in search of a new nose ring. i've had a flat disc and a round ball for ever and ever. i always wanted a hoop. we drove down to deep ellum and went in the first tatoo and piercing shop i saw. no dice. he said to go to the shop down the street. (there are tons of tatoo parlors in deep ellum) off we went. no dice. go next door they say. i'm met again and again by bafoons. one in particular i would describe as a deaf mute who suddenly learned to speak while tripping acid and discovered his voice sounds like kermet the frog whispering.
finally, we found a good place. i wish i could recommend it to you, but i've forgotten the name. first of all, people don't say, "aww, what a cute baby" in tatoo parlors, ha ha. they say: whew, glad that's not me! we were greeted by a holy (meaning: full of holes) dread headed ambiguous raced duuude who was the most helpful man ever. i picked out a hoop and went back into the room. sitting on a bench with the baby on my lap the duuude put in the hoop and said, "that's pretty fucking cool if you ask me." penn was fascinated with the people getting tatoos. ben thinks its sexy.
and then, off to kinko's to get above picture printed for my friend's casting call. what an event at kinko's. what the hell happened to them? why's it so damned hard to get a copy? the people are somewhat rude. the picture i had on disc was not saved in the right dimensions. i knew that, but since i forgot to resize it and i know they had photoshop, i figured they'd do it for me. $35 DOLLARS FOR FOUR CLICKS!!! i am not kidding. so, we used their cp at 30 cents a minute and after $1.00 i was done. my friend got held up translating for a guy who didn't speak english. poor kid. all he wanted in the world was 30 copies and this woman was so difficult. in the end the guy gave us 11 copies when all we asked for was 3. what a fun time!
penn woke up and played way past his bedtime. man, his personality is really starting to shine. he's such a funny little man. ooooh, i love him.
there. that's my whole day. i've no idea why i just went on and on about my whole day. truly, i'll be more interesting tomorrow. promise.
peace all.
the hidden girl laughed at penn's crying when i wouldn't let him eat woodchips. (i gave in to the rock.)
after watching her for a while i think she might have been spying on a lovey dovey couple under a tree. she had a sort of pained look every once in a while when they spouted lovers giggles. maybe it was gas.
then we crossed the street back to our apartment and discovered the grass there had recovered from the landscapers scalping. they literally put the mower all the way to the ground and shaved it. it was disgusting. not only did they shave our loverly "yard" they spread new seeds. why? why i ask! we have st. augestine grass. i only know this because my papa taught me everything he knew about practical agriculture (names of trees, growing tomatoes, watermellons, potatoes, how to till a row, how to weed, how to prune hedges, how to plant trees, how to get rid of fire ants . . .) and st. augestine grass was his favorite grass in the whole entire world. he raved and raved about it and would take pieces from well growing spaces and stick in the ground in bare spots and we'd go back and check after a while to find a nice patch of grass taking off. he was obsessed with every inch of his land being covered with st. augestine.
st. augestine grass grows in a vine along the ground, anchoring itself in various places. it is thick. so thick that it sufforcates anything small enough for it to sufforcate so that there are no other kinds of grass that will grow. thick, lush, cool, wide blade, perfectly green carpet grass. no stickers. no weeds. so thick the squigglys can go about their business beneath your bare toes and you won't feel a thing. stupid landscapers, if you can call them that, shaved the lawn and planted that crappy thin fuzzy grass that may look great from a distance, but get close and it's like a man way past his rogaine time.
stupid landscapers. i call them mexicans with leaf blowers. i am not racist. you know that. i am mixed. my boyfriend/baby's daddy is mixed. my baby is mixed. my mother is mixed. the united colours of benetton ads are my past dating history. i will now continue without judgement. we call them: mexicans with leaf blowers. they are loud. no matter what time they decide to come, it seems it is always when penn wants to take a nap. tell me, what does a leaf blower do? really? is blowing dirt from one place to another really accomplishing anything? imagine if this is how you cleaned your house.
so, penji and i played in our beautiful st. augestine grass, in the front, where they did not put any seed.
we went to the grocery for milk. i bought a pommegranet and it is stupendous! i think i left my atm card there.
then, because penn was awake, and happy, i decided to go in search of a new nose ring. i've had a flat disc and a round ball for ever and ever. i always wanted a hoop. we drove down to deep ellum and went in the first tatoo and piercing shop i saw. no dice. he said to go to the shop down the street. (there are tons of tatoo parlors in deep ellum) off we went. no dice. go next door they say. i'm met again and again by bafoons. one in particular i would describe as a deaf mute who suddenly learned to speak while tripping acid and discovered his voice sounds like kermet the frog whispering.
finally, we found a good place. i wish i could recommend it to you, but i've forgotten the name. first of all, people don't say, "aww, what a cute baby" in tatoo parlors, ha ha. they say: whew, glad that's not me! we were greeted by a holy (meaning: full of holes) dread headed ambiguous raced duuude who was the most helpful man ever. i picked out a hoop and went back into the room. sitting on a bench with the baby on my lap the duuude put in the hoop and said, "that's pretty fucking cool if you ask me." penn was fascinated with the people getting tatoos. ben thinks its sexy.
and then, off to kinko's to get above picture printed for my friend's casting call. what an event at kinko's. what the hell happened to them? why's it so damned hard to get a copy? the people are somewhat rude. the picture i had on disc was not saved in the right dimensions. i knew that, but since i forgot to resize it and i know they had photoshop, i figured they'd do it for me. $35 DOLLARS FOR FOUR CLICKS!!! i am not kidding. so, we used their cp at 30 cents a minute and after $1.00 i was done. my friend got held up translating for a guy who didn't speak english. poor kid. all he wanted in the world was 30 copies and this woman was so difficult. in the end the guy gave us 11 copies when all we asked for was 3. what a fun time!
penn woke up and played way past his bedtime. man, his personality is really starting to shine. he's such a funny little man. ooooh, i love him.
there. that's my whole day. i've no idea why i just went on and on about my whole day. truly, i'll be more interesting tomorrow. promise.
peace all.
tot towne!
our new friend took some pictures of penn at tot towne. we had a blast! here's penn and his continued fascination with phones. i don't know what's up with the white bars on the pics.
Oct 12, 2004
shitty kids all around
penn and i went to tots towne today. we met a very cool new friend and had a great time. penn took FOUR whole steps all by himself! i was so proud. and i discovered that kids can be shitty. just plain shitty.
penn adores older children and wanted to play with them, follow them, smile at them, find out what they were laughing about, understand their rules, touch them, hold their toys, listen to them, sit in the little plastic houses and just watch them. and he was like kid repellent. he'd crawl proudly up to their circle and they would evaporate. scatter. "we're not playing with a baby" was the attitude i got. i felt so bad for poor little friendless penn. i'm so glad he didn't seem to "get" what was going on and didn't feel rejected. there's always mommy, who's lots of fun! we walked around and slid down the slides which he loved! he held his arms up and opened his little mouth really wide to let me know how much fun it was. there was a little boy in one of the plastic play houses and penn walked us up to the window. penn held onto the window frame to peer inside at the little boy who was pretend hammering all over the place. the little boy inside said, "he can't come in here." snotty nose fck. i said politely, "he would just like to look in the house from the window, okay?" no response. as if it would've mattered. brat.
i'm sitting behind penn to let him play and interact with children on his own as much as possible. i can't see his face, really. i can't see the other boy, really. i just know he's hammering all over the place. out of precaution i say, "please be careful of his fingers," which were gripping the window. just about that time penn yanked his hand back because THIS SHITTY LITTLE BOY WAS TRYING TO HAMMER MY SON'S FINGERS OUT OF THE WINDOWSILL! i could've punched him in the nose.
of course i don't really hate the little boy. i'm sure he's not a bastard brat or even all that shitty. this was just a shitty moment. but it was shitty. penn didn't cry or anything and again, i'm grateful that he isn't aware enough to understand what was going on.
it's just an age thing, i suppose. the age, 6-7ish, that penn seems fascinated with. we have met two children around this age that are simply super with penn, engaging him without limiting their own play time. (thank you s.j.)
i admire penn's observation skills and the ways he expresses his comprehension. he's very empathetic. today at tots towne, our new friends child got upset and penn seemed to understand that she was sad and came and sat close, looking at her and the rest of us to see how we responded. he seemed so concerned, sitting close, then standing up to see how the little girl was. he often expresses this face and action when he hears other children cry, in supermarkets, or wherever. he becomes what appears to be, concerned. i hope he continues and furthers his ability to understand people and their feelings.
it's a gift as adult feelings are so much more complicated and easily misunderstood. tonight, benji said . . .i forget what exactly, but something to the effect that i was rude in front of our company tonight and that i often am. i gave back what i got from him. that's my defense. reflect. deflect. i asked him a question and i feel he blew it up, made it complicated, didn't understand that i only had a couple of options---period---that the choices were not ideal, but they were also not at all bad, and in fact might even be better. but, benji's negativity said the equivilent to "nope. this is how it's done. i know." so i said never mind. don't worry about it.
one of my problems is i dont' believe him when he says "i know." how do you know? i wonder. and the answer is never good enough. *sigh* this is probably why i'm not a christian, too. i think sometimes benji gets defensive because he gets confused at my questions (i feel asking me a better way to state my question instead of getting frustrated and defensive would be a healthier approach) and then he errupts into an anger ball and i'm left to sit here and rant about it on my blog. i don't even think he reads this, hah, so no real worries. he's such an anger ball. and i'm just not. i'm not an angry person, but bullshit like this makes me this way.
peace all!
penn adores older children and wanted to play with them, follow them, smile at them, find out what they were laughing about, understand their rules, touch them, hold their toys, listen to them, sit in the little plastic houses and just watch them. and he was like kid repellent. he'd crawl proudly up to their circle and they would evaporate. scatter. "we're not playing with a baby" was the attitude i got. i felt so bad for poor little friendless penn. i'm so glad he didn't seem to "get" what was going on and didn't feel rejected. there's always mommy, who's lots of fun! we walked around and slid down the slides which he loved! he held his arms up and opened his little mouth really wide to let me know how much fun it was. there was a little boy in one of the plastic play houses and penn walked us up to the window. penn held onto the window frame to peer inside at the little boy who was pretend hammering all over the place. the little boy inside said, "he can't come in here." snotty nose fck. i said politely, "he would just like to look in the house from the window, okay?" no response. as if it would've mattered. brat.
i'm sitting behind penn to let him play and interact with children on his own as much as possible. i can't see his face, really. i can't see the other boy, really. i just know he's hammering all over the place. out of precaution i say, "please be careful of his fingers," which were gripping the window. just about that time penn yanked his hand back because THIS SHITTY LITTLE BOY WAS TRYING TO HAMMER MY SON'S FINGERS OUT OF THE WINDOWSILL! i could've punched him in the nose.
of course i don't really hate the little boy. i'm sure he's not a bastard brat or even all that shitty. this was just a shitty moment. but it was shitty. penn didn't cry or anything and again, i'm grateful that he isn't aware enough to understand what was going on.
it's just an age thing, i suppose. the age, 6-7ish, that penn seems fascinated with. we have met two children around this age that are simply super with penn, engaging him without limiting their own play time. (thank you s.j.)
i admire penn's observation skills and the ways he expresses his comprehension. he's very empathetic. today at tots towne, our new friends child got upset and penn seemed to understand that she was sad and came and sat close, looking at her and the rest of us to see how we responded. he seemed so concerned, sitting close, then standing up to see how the little girl was. he often expresses this face and action when he hears other children cry, in supermarkets, or wherever. he becomes what appears to be, concerned. i hope he continues and furthers his ability to understand people and their feelings.
it's a gift as adult feelings are so much more complicated and easily misunderstood. tonight, benji said . . .i forget what exactly, but something to the effect that i was rude in front of our company tonight and that i often am. i gave back what i got from him. that's my defense. reflect. deflect. i asked him a question and i feel he blew it up, made it complicated, didn't understand that i only had a couple of options---period---that the choices were not ideal, but they were also not at all bad, and in fact might even be better. but, benji's negativity said the equivilent to "nope. this is how it's done. i know." so i said never mind. don't worry about it.
one of my problems is i dont' believe him when he says "i know." how do you know? i wonder. and the answer is never good enough. *sigh* this is probably why i'm not a christian, too. i think sometimes benji gets defensive because he gets confused at my questions (i feel asking me a better way to state my question instead of getting frustrated and defensive would be a healthier approach) and then he errupts into an anger ball and i'm left to sit here and rant about it on my blog. i don't even think he reads this, hah, so no real worries. he's such an anger ball. and i'm just not. i'm not an angry person, but bullshit like this makes me this way.
peace all!
Oct 11, 2004
light tracers
how cool is this. an accidental picture of a light sent me on a quest for the perfect light tracer. i've too many to choose from right now, but here are two i liked.
family portrait
here we are in one of those photobooth things at the fair. the official family portrait. kinda hard to see us because i took a picture of the picture.
does my baby look afraid to you?
it is 8:15p.m. and my baby is ASLEEP! yup. at 8:15. woo-ha. his normal bedtime is 9, but he skipped the evening nap and got tired early. literally passed out. this is quite refreshing as he's been staying up late these days. good for benji because he works a million hours a day including weekends so he only gets to see penji in the morning and before he goes to bed. bad for mommy who has to put in more hours.
we missed meeting a brand new friend who, according to e-mail and phone corespondance, is uber cool. i'm excited to meet a person who seems so desperatley interesting and at the same time, a mommy. me missed it because she lives a bit aways from me and penn and i were pokey. we got all caught up in a late nap, then a late lunch, then changing clothes because we ate lunch and were going out in public and you've all seen the bean goop picture. and then it was too late. we are going to give it another go tomorrow.
i've a new client. a big one. i'd tell you who it is but despite what the porn sites will tell you, this is not a slumber party and i don't want to do anything that might be ill percieved.
i'm finally getting around to posting pictures of our photo booth time at the fair last week. penn looks so frightened!
we missed meeting a brand new friend who, according to e-mail and phone corespondance, is uber cool. i'm excited to meet a person who seems so desperatley interesting and at the same time, a mommy. me missed it because she lives a bit aways from me and penn and i were pokey. we got all caught up in a late nap, then a late lunch, then changing clothes because we ate lunch and were going out in public and you've all seen the bean goop picture. and then it was too late. we are going to give it another go tomorrow.
i've a new client. a big one. i'd tell you who it is but despite what the porn sites will tell you, this is not a slumber party and i don't want to do anything that might be ill percieved.
i'm finally getting around to posting pictures of our photo booth time at the fair last week. penn looks so frightened!
Oct 10, 2004
you forgot poland!
hooolllly crap! if you watched the debates you will now click here and laugh your ass off!
Oct 9, 2004
stupid sick babysitters
tonight i am missing what is probably a very cool party because my one and only babysitter got sick and i was just too indecisive about going by myself or taking penn with. *sigh* and wouldn't you know, mr. penn stayed up late and partied hard here at the house, ha ha. perhaps i should have gone. i just hate to ruin other peoples time who are out to get away from children. there is also that potential judgement for taking a baby to a party. for the record, it wasn't a do-coke-off-a-strippers-ass kind of party.
today we went and got a bookshelf for the bedroom/reluctant playroom. penn thinks they are amazing. i put his little library and baskets of toys on there and his eyes lit up. he made a bee line for the shelf and immediatley pulled all the stuff down. then he turned around all proud like. we repeated this episode many times tonight. what's the point of a shelf when you can't keep anything on it? oooh, he's so cute.
hey look! this is me procrastinating on sorting some prints!
today we went and got a bookshelf for the bedroom/reluctant playroom. penn thinks they are amazing. i put his little library and baskets of toys on there and his eyes lit up. he made a bee line for the shelf and immediatley pulled all the stuff down. then he turned around all proud like. we repeated this episode many times tonight. what's the point of a shelf when you can't keep anything on it? oooh, he's so cute.
hey look! this is me procrastinating on sorting some prints!
Oct 8, 2004
beanbag dies; cat runs for cover
my beautiful beautiful catfish, sweet sweet nutless catfish, soft silvery floppycat catfish killed the beanbag today. he peed on it. it is uncleanable. he also showed me his penis today. cat peni are weird, in case you didn't know.
i think i've finished the cabinet company pictures. i think i've also finished the postcard. nothing fancy, nothing flashy. can't really do all that much with cabinets, i suppose. the director of sales and marketing is getting married and said he wanted to talk to me about doing their wedding photographs! that, i think, would be very exciting. it's my second inquiry about wedding photography. i also got a call today about more children's portraits. yay! i'll soon be booked into next year.
i watched part of the debates tonight. again, penn wouldn't let me really watch. all i'd really like to say on the matter right now is: bush said "internets." "the internets are saying there's gonna be a draft." hah-ha.
i am currently watching "cold mountain." i must go so i can pay better attention.
g'nite.
i think i've finished the cabinet company pictures. i think i've also finished the postcard. nothing fancy, nothing flashy. can't really do all that much with cabinets, i suppose. the director of sales and marketing is getting married and said he wanted to talk to me about doing their wedding photographs! that, i think, would be very exciting. it's my second inquiry about wedding photography. i also got a call today about more children's portraits. yay! i'll soon be booked into next year.
i watched part of the debates tonight. again, penn wouldn't let me really watch. all i'd really like to say on the matter right now is: bush said "internets." "the internets are saying there's gonna be a draft." hah-ha.
i am currently watching "cold mountain." i must go so i can pay better attention.
g'nite.
trolls move into washing machine; machine relocating tomorrow
something's always broken, yes? yes. currently, it is the washing machine. we have one of those nifty stacker things (washer on bottom, dryer on top). the dryer began making an awlful noise, like perhaps i had left the cat inside. i checked. no cat. so i called the landlord who sent out a tall gangly long haired man with dull eyes. you know, the eyes that just let you know there may not be a whole lot going on inside. nothing he's said has been stupid, he may not be a stupid person, it's just a feeling. when he first came he made verbal note of our big ass mutha tv and made sure i knew he had one even bigger. well yay you.
sidenote: what the hell am i supposed to say to a comment like that? "well, i'm cuter than you, and i bet my kid's cuter than yours too. nah." yeah. that's what i'll say next time. that or i'll just whip out my penis and get the ruler and then we'll see.
he turned the dyer on and of course it didn't make the noise. he left, saying it was fixed (alright, so he didn't find a troll inside) and told me that he had a brand new washer and dryer, but it was hard to install due to the narrow bathroom doors. fine i said. and we put up with the troll.
shortly after the dryer started it's own band, our washer began to leak. i called the landlord who sent back the tall gangly long haired man with dull eyes. penn and i had been awake all of five seconds so i was groggy and had a severe case of bedhead. he turned the washer on three times, said it didn't leak, and was fixed. now, had i been more coherent, i might've been more persistent. i did tell him that it doesn't just spit water in your eye or anything. it's just when i go in to put the clothes in the dyer there is a small puddle on the floor. (maybe the trolls are peeing on the floor) "it's fixed, he declares."
so, i wash a load. i forget to put the top down (i do this a lot) and the washer will only go so far with the top up. the next morning there was a lake coming out of the bathroom. i call the landlord. she said, "when does it leak?" i told her i didn't know. i don't sit there and watch the damned washer. if i got off on watching washing machines i would go to the damned laundry mat. (i didn't actually say all of that.) "well, the maintenence man said that he ran it through several cycles and it didn't leak." i told her that he was hear 10 minutes, tops, and there was no 10 minute cycle on my machine. he did nothing. blah. she made me repeat the above several times. then out she sends tall gangly dull eyed man again. he actually pulls the washer out this time and gives me some bullshit reasons as to why he thought it was fixed last time. he leaves and says it's fixed. i attempt to wash clothes again.
IT IS NOT FIXED PLEASE GIVE ME A NEW WASHING MACHINE, DAMNIT, BECAUSE I HAVE A BABY WITH LOTS OF DIRTY BIBS AND I ALREADY USED ALL THE TOWELLS TO CLEAN UP THE WATER THAT LEAKED FROM THE WASHING MACHINE.
i get a new washing machine tomorrow! yay!
in other news i think i got the postcard done for my cabinet client. it's nothing fancy. very proffessional and a definite upgrade from his last postcard, but i think benji's right when he says after a while i probably won't want to show people anymore. ah well. i'll post it when it's done so you can all go and get new cabinets and credit me so he'll feel the money was well spent.
i'm also posting more pictures of "the cute bald headed man" upon cat's request over at beyond elsewhere. he's an actor and my favorite model. he has also brought in three more clients for me! mmmm, i love ludwell.
peace all.
sidenote: what the hell am i supposed to say to a comment like that? "well, i'm cuter than you, and i bet my kid's cuter than yours too. nah." yeah. that's what i'll say next time. that or i'll just whip out my penis and get the ruler and then we'll see.
he turned the dyer on and of course it didn't make the noise. he left, saying it was fixed (alright, so he didn't find a troll inside) and told me that he had a brand new washer and dryer, but it was hard to install due to the narrow bathroom doors. fine i said. and we put up with the troll.
shortly after the dryer started it's own band, our washer began to leak. i called the landlord who sent back the tall gangly long haired man with dull eyes. penn and i had been awake all of five seconds so i was groggy and had a severe case of bedhead. he turned the washer on three times, said it didn't leak, and was fixed. now, had i been more coherent, i might've been more persistent. i did tell him that it doesn't just spit water in your eye or anything. it's just when i go in to put the clothes in the dyer there is a small puddle on the floor. (maybe the trolls are peeing on the floor) "it's fixed, he declares."
so, i wash a load. i forget to put the top down (i do this a lot) and the washer will only go so far with the top up. the next morning there was a lake coming out of the bathroom. i call the landlord. she said, "when does it leak?" i told her i didn't know. i don't sit there and watch the damned washer. if i got off on watching washing machines i would go to the damned laundry mat. (i didn't actually say all of that.) "well, the maintenence man said that he ran it through several cycles and it didn't leak." i told her that he was hear 10 minutes, tops, and there was no 10 minute cycle on my machine. he did nothing. blah. she made me repeat the above several times. then out she sends tall gangly dull eyed man again. he actually pulls the washer out this time and gives me some bullshit reasons as to why he thought it was fixed last time. he leaves and says it's fixed. i attempt to wash clothes again.
IT IS NOT FIXED PLEASE GIVE ME A NEW WASHING MACHINE, DAMNIT, BECAUSE I HAVE A BABY WITH LOTS OF DIRTY BIBS AND I ALREADY USED ALL THE TOWELLS TO CLEAN UP THE WATER THAT LEAKED FROM THE WASHING MACHINE.
i get a new washing machine tomorrow! yay!
in other news i think i got the postcard done for my cabinet client. it's nothing fancy. very proffessional and a definite upgrade from his last postcard, but i think benji's right when he says after a while i probably won't want to show people anymore. ah well. i'll post it when it's done so you can all go and get new cabinets and credit me so he'll feel the money was well spent.
i'm also posting more pictures of "the cute bald headed man" upon cat's request over at beyond elsewhere. he's an actor and my favorite model. he has also brought in three more clients for me! mmmm, i love ludwell.
peace all.
Oct 7, 2004
goulash of pictures
how the hell do you spell goulash? anyway, here are various weird pictures that have nothing to do with one another that i thought i would share with the internet. enjoy!
here is penns mouth covered in green bean casserole. soon after this he had an animal cracker for desert. he choked on a cookie foot that he swallowed without chewing and puked the greenbean casserole up. disgusting. poor little guy. his eyes were watering and you could tell it was stuck and hurt. i picked him up, patted his back, and when i saw it coming i aimed him at the high chair tray. splat.
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