fuzzy bumper

~"All you ever care about is fruit and touching yourself!!" -John C. Reily in Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story, stupid movie, but greatest quote of the day.

~'Blue Jean' by David Bowie because a pony tail and a sashay might just be enough to get me through the day

~Office Space because IRREVERENCE CAN BE FUN!

hey gang! pull up a drink.

so i went to get my chemo shot yesterday- once a month for the next 3 years.  it's a pain, to be sure, but next to the other type endured, it's a cinch.  i'm thinking maybe i should have my ovaries removed.  my mom will declare a resounding 'o no you don't' because the poor ol' broad is still holding out for a grandbaby or two.  yeah, no.  bless her heart.  she'll have to get used to her grandkids being the furry four-legged sort. 

 i met a lady yesterday who said the procedure is easy as pie. you go in/they get out. what a world!  where divorcing your lady-beans is as simple as a pedicure!  hystory in the making.

  

so i came upon an idea.  please don't steal it.

see the photo of my prototype.  it's a uterus ashtray!!  get your orders in now. surely someone you know is having a birthday. i gotta think amy sedaris would approve.  amy, meet tallulah. cheers, ladies! clink.

i'll be gone tomorrow petting goats in petaluma with my sis.  taking the camera this time.  i'll be back with more photos and even better ideas!

fin.

under the radar today

~ "I have said nothing because there is nothing I can say that would describe how I feel as perfectly as you deserve it." -Kyle Schmidt.  EXACTLY.

~"Beautiful Calm Driving" by Sia, because people are quietly, methodically dangerous.

~Bleu, because so many people quietly suffer.

i forgot to take my camera on pick-ups yesterday.  guess what i saw?  crap in a cup.  yep.  somebody had taken a dump in a 7/eleven cup.  props to the pooper for not making his/her deposit directly on the sidewalk, but couldn't ya toss the cup when ya'd finished?  

when does suffering become undignified? at what point do you toss pride and raise your voice?

pick-ups

~"It is a privilege to see so much confusion." -Marianne Moore because, today, i happen to agree so i'm going out into the city to photograph some confusion.

~"Running Down a Dream" by Tom Petty because it got my flabby body outta bed this morning.  thanks, Tom!

~There Will Be Blood, because i'd share a milkshake with Daniel Plainview and take notes. 

there's this thing i haven't done in a while.  i call it "pick-ups"-  essentially, you walk around your town or neighborhood and just find stuff to appreciate.  when i lived in Bland Diego i took my polaroid with me everywhere, resulting in about 200 or so snapshots of awesome, weird, sad, stunning stuff. i like the polaroid format for this especially because each shot looks like a still from a 1970s documentary.  digital's great, don't get me wrong.  but i'm a gal who still uses a #2 Ticonderoga for everything.  if i come back with anything extraordinary, i'll share.

thanks for playing.  fin.

l'isle de toi

We stopped at a taverna on the island.  I wore

a spaghetti strap dress that stretched your smile 

of intent (what you'd do with me when you caught me alone).

I was sipping juniper/gin while language, like hands, played over me.

The bells of ice in my glass, the

disenchanted green table, the smell of soil

so pungent I almost didn't believe.  Baby blonde

hair glittered my thighs

-so strong they held you hostage.

Reflections of half-empty bottles set color

to my face, cast shadows of my 

eyelashes like shadows of fish bones that marked the entrance.

Lazy mobile of delicacy.

A drinker nearby smelled of sweat.  It was a dry heat,

a masculine hot.

And I loved you.

That was the why of everything.

my soapbox hero

~"I know enough to know that everything's really OK, but I don't know enough not to get pissed off." -Mike Scott.  loud and clear, brother.  loud and clear.

~"Bukowski" by Modest Mouse because some days it seems that there are more assholes than there aren't.

~The Brave One, not a fantastic movie, but i do like to see baddies get it and get it good.

hiya kids.  pull up a drink.  sit for a spell.  

The History of Murder is my latest read.  i've only just started and am on a chapter about the history of pirates. i'm incurably curious about the nature of things, stories behind a story, the reason behind occurrences. there is that within me that longs to start a vigilante group against people who make the choice to harm children and/or animals.  anyone reading this should know that i'm very close-minded when it comes to abuse.  i don't give a good god-damned about injustices or abuses that have happened to a perpetrator.  once s/he chooses to destroy the life of a child or animal, all bets are off.  and it is a choice.  countless numbers of victims evolve and choose not to become perpetrators.  i'm not forgiving of abuse and, in fact, am a stone cold bitch when it comes to the debate.  everyone has a story.  that doesn't make everyone forgivable.

for over a decade, i've declared that Andrew Vachss is my hero.  i've seen him speak many times and always leave wanting to work for him.  dream job.  shit, i'd cut the man's toenails with my teeth if he'd ask me.  check him out, please.  you're seriously remiss if you don't.  http://youtube.com/results?search_query=andrew+vachss

and

www.vachss.com

thanks for reading.  fin.

Sweet Tallulah Pie

~"Codeine...bourbon...." -Tallulah Bankhead's last words.  those are usually my first words upon waking.  when in doubt, i ALWAYS ask myself What would Tallulah do?

~"Rock Steady" by Aretha Franklin because it's good to shake yo thang in the kitchen

~Michael Clayton, because i like to see shit. get. done.

hi y'all-

words to the wise, for free:  do not drink and pluck your eyebrows. 

do not drink and give your pet a haircut.  

do not drink and paint your toenails.

DO drink and bake.  everything tastes fabulous.  ketel one makes a better one!  i started out with a double layer carrot cake with rosemary and orange rind.  next came a cherry pie. 

not for nothing, but pitting your own cherries by hand is v. sexy - the smell, the sound, the stains...try it with a loved one and see what happens.  then tell me all about it.

here's a wicked recipe from my best buddy, lori nygaard. 

MARGARITA COCKTAIL PIE

Crust:

1 1/2 cup crushed pretzels

1/4 cup packed brown sugar

1/2 cup butter, melted

Margarita Filling:

1 envelope unflavored gelatin

1/2 cup fresh squeezed lemon juice

5 eggs, separated

1 cup sugar

1/4 cup tequila...or to taste, tee hee

1/4 cup triple sec or any orange-flavored liqueur

1 teaspoon fresh grated lemon peel

1/4 teaspoon salt

Crust:

combine first 3 ingredients.  press mixture onto bottom and sides of a 9inch pie dish.  bake at 400degrees for 5 minutes.  chill.

Filling: soften gelatin in lemon juice.  in top of double boiler, with electric mixer, beat egg yolks well with 1/2 cup of sugar and salt. stir in gelatin mixture, tequila and lemon peel.  cook over boiling water until mixture starts to thicken (~5 minutes), stirring frequently.

beat egg whites until foamy; gradually add remaining 1/2 cup of sugar and liqueur, beating until soft peaks form.  fold beaten egg whites into egg yolk mixture.  spoon into crust; chill several hours until firm. 

garnish with lemon twists and mint and a pint of beer. take a slice, your pint, and have a bubble bath.  it's what Tallulah would do!

cheers.  clink!  fin.

Welcome to WTMI. i'll be your hostess.

greetings.  pull up a drink. sit for a spell.

this blogging business is new to me.  i'm 34, ok?  not a big fan of keeping journals and whatnots.  

i've read that the word diary comes from the Latin diarium meaning "daily allowance".  

but

to me, there's no coincidence that diary sounds like diarrhea which is Middle English for "a flowing through".  

don't say you didn't learn anything today.

i'm not a terribly regimented person, but i'll try to start each entry with a quote, song, and a film for the day.  set the tone, as it were.

~today's quote:  "Proof/of your existence? There is nothing/but." -Franz Wright, because i woke up this morning and took a good look around.  yep. sure enough.

~today's song: "Lost in the supermarket" by the Clash, because life is dirty and overwhelming.

~today's movie: Corrina, Corrina, because life is dirty but it can be fun as hell cleaning it up if you have a hula hoop and share an occasional belly laugh. amen. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

my single-breasted birthday suit

by

dee ann hairgrove

so i'm in training for the susan g. komen walk in september.  it spans 60 miles over 3 days.  i'm an avid and enthusiastic walker, and i'm a cancer survivor.  i hate that word- survivor.  maybe cancer dissident.  mom's a dissident, too.  i'm still involved in a type of chemo after 2 years of the most intense treatment that my body allowed.  the only thing worse than cancer is the treatments.  whoosh!

i guess i'm about 130 pounds.  i got down to about 90 pounds.  i lost my apartment, my job, my insurance, my hair, my toenails, my memory, my ability to have kids, my breast.  

i'm still waiting for the tv show or film that properly relays trying to breathe through all that quicksand.  until they show that crap and how it effects those around you (if you're lucky enough to have "those around you"), then i guess we settle for the likes of 'Sex and the City' and Samantha wearing satin pants and drinking martinis, squealing across the red carpet with her model boyfriend who dutifully stands by her side while she's going through chemo.  do i sound bitter?  nah, just tired. and annoyed.

off my box.  sorry. 

the point of this was to describe my attempts at getting ready for this walk.  ok- dee ann is not a camper.  i love gurgling streams, the smell of clover and dirt, and bambi.  i do not understand tents.  and if you have to put on bug-repellant and shoes just to hit the loo...wtf? in my registration packet from susan g. komen they sent recommendations on what clothes to wear, where to buy them, the best camping gear...the best wha?   

let me clarify:

20 miles per day

public toilets

no stopping at bars along the way

and i gotta sleep in a tent? so it's like, "here, have cancer. now go sleep on the ground."  christ on a cracker!  but alright.  i'm going i'm going.

then i go in search of "breathable pants".  issue #1:  anything that's wrapped around my lower girly bits and breathes...is called a boy.

issue #2: the first 3 places i hit, charge up to 80$ for these pants.  honey child, if i'm paying 80$ for a pair of pants in which to sweat, then they'd better come with my named stitched in rubies and a 34k gold vibrator.  mkay?

thanks for playing.  thanks for staying.  

fin