Heading out to see A.A. Bondy and I wish I wasn't going alone. I'm stalling. It's a drive into the city and parking's a beast and I really, really wish I was with someone.

I'm trying to focus on the positive. Look at the small stuff, instead of the big picture. I had some quality girlie time with Myers. C+ and I hung out today. When he asks me am I sure this is what I want, and the sun is shining, and we're walking around the city, it gives me pause. I don't make him happy. He makes me lonely....but I'm lonely without him too. He went to Scott's for the night to play poker and is staying over. This is the first time I'm coming home alone since I moved back. It's a strange night already.

Geez. This night better pick up quick or I'm going to wish I was hiding in my house, with my Warcraft buddies. Gotta get a move on. I'll let you know how this goes. It's at the new venue in town, Lincoln Hall.

Wish me luck. Please.

L

Back from the show. It was hazy in the city tonight, a nice night for a walk. I only stayed for Bondy and left before Elvis Perkins in Dearland. The show was quiet, really quiet. I think you might have liked it. It was so quiet, I could hear the guy next to me chewing his ice. This wouldn't have been a problem, if I didn't still have my hacking cough. I sound like I'm trying to gather air from the bottom of my lungs. Probably because I am. I spent most of the concert, concentrating on muffling my hacks at the moments of applause, or stifling them into my beer. You know that scene in "The Odd Couple" where Felix is trying to clear his sinus? That was me. Not that bad, but still horrifying. It was hard to enjoy his voice. His voice is lovely. The venue is great too. Can't wait to see Sloan. I like my music a little louder than tonight's.

Whatcha Bedouin?

Crash Course in feedback.

Okay, I'm in the mood for listing, so thanks for the header topics: song's you like. something you miss. something you need. what are you going to do in the next week.

songs I like.
I'm grooving on Cutting Crew lately. I'm not sure what it is - I love his voice, and I love the key shifts, that soft synthesizer "zzzh". Is it a drum machine? Dunno. Sometimes I really love a full, complete, orchestral, thorough sound, and they really fill the space. (sometimes I love the rawness of oh, say, Calexico, too.) Mostly listening to fairly internal and moody things lately - not depressing, but ones that allow/push space for introspection (not the navel gazing kind, the problem solving/envisioning/manifesting kind). I'm thinking about buying the new album.

something I miss.
besides you? I miss the time/easy access/salary to go to the movies once or twice a week.

something I need.
a change. Not sure what, but in the words of Sheryl Crow, I'm pretty sure it would do me good. A little courage would help, too. And, of course, some company.

what am I going to do in the next week.
I am going to try and spend a fair bit of next week helping other people, thinking about gratitude and all that I am privileged to enjoy, and think about what I'd like to have happen over the next five years. I need to write some thank you notes. I'm excited about shopping for Churchill biographies with you. I also want to finish Shop Class as Soulcraft. I need to write an email to everyone who has signed up for next semester's book arts class. I think they double-booked grads and undergrads, so I may have up to 24 students. Insane, but fun.

Tonight I'm hand-trimming all of Kat and Jud's wedding invites, and putting together a 20 minute presentation about my work. Holy crap, sleep? What sleep? Gotta leave town at 7:30 in the a.m. Kill me now.

Love you!
p.s. a strange hunkering for canned whip cream may need to be satisfied . . . It lasts all of one spoon though, so it's probably not worthwhile.

Ok, alright. I made another Felicity hat. Want one? Kelly is making a few dozen crocheted cowls for Christmas; I guess mine will be the Year of Felicity.

Random Friday stuff, huh.

Song that I'm listening to... A.A. Bondy's "On the Moon." It reminds me of Le Voyage dans la lune, dreamy and sleepy.

Something I miss. My grandma. When she died, my mom said, "Now, we're not going to make her a saint." She never was close to a saint for me and my memories are clear enough that I couldn't make her one. She was really close to being my best friend, though. We disagreed and we fought, but we always loved each other for who we were. I never had to be anything other than me and she understood who that was. Everyday, I wish she was here. She wasn't highly educated. I don't think she finished past freshman year of high school before she went to work. If I ever had a question about something, how something worked, she'd say, "I don't know, let's try." She'd make me purple milk shakes and let me shoot suction cup arrows at the plate glass windows. She was all about the empirical.

Something I need. Need is a funny word. It's amazing how nebulous need can be. I need peace. My nerves hum all the time and it's hard to relax. If I can just find some peace and quiet...

What I'm going to do in the next week. The next week is crazy busy. Tomorrow is the DIY Trunk show. Patton needs pills, so there's a trip to the vet. Tomorrow night is A. A. Bondy. Big date with me. (Going by myself.) Sunday, hopefully I'll get to see Niall. I have Wednesday, Thursday and Friday off. I'm cooking dinner for C+ and me on Thursday and will see you in the evening. Yea! Friday, maybe some girlie fun. After that...I don't know. Action packed. No peace this week.

Tonight I'm running a raid with the guildies. Should be starting in a half hour. Sounds cathartic to me.

See you soon, Little Bedouin.

L

P.S. We played Pictionary today in English. Everything the kids drew inadvertently looked like a penis. Skillet? Penis. A pop bottle looks a lot like a penis and when you add the pop bubbles...oh god. I was the referee and at one point was trying not to leave my mouth agape and was laughing so hard I was crying. Some days they are just so cute.

The Algorithm Method.

Printing is done!

I had an interesting opportunity today to get a landscape view of a past relationship. Libby compared it to taking a plug sample from a tree. What did I see? That this particular ex only extended himself when it was beneficial/convenient for him. What does it mean to me? It caused me to realize two things: 1. If you have to explain to someone that helping means doing what the other person needs in the way they need it done, then you're with the wrong someone; this is common sense. 2. (more important) I want to be with someone who is as motivated to achieve and passionate about what they're doing as I am. I realize this significantly narrows the field of prospects, but I'd rather be alone than in another crappy relationship or one for which I've settled. I've had plenty of the endings you've mentioned, and they were always way past the spoilage date. From now on, it's Devonshire Cream or nothing. Everyone deserves happiness.

Libby and I also talked about different parenting styles, applying for jobs, the lunchtime husband's visit, a lot of the nuttiness of work, and the burden of keeping secrets. Having spent so much time working and so little time sleeping this week, I've been strung out and the situations have been pushing me to tears. I also listened to myself talk today, and realized that I've moved ahead by the Queen's crossing. It felt nice. Nevertheless, miles to go before I sleep. Many, many miles.

xoxoL.


C+ thinks this is gross. I do not. I found Patton's tooth in his dog bowl last night. He is old and this is not unexpected. The tooth doesn't look rotten; it just looks like it fell out. I have that nightmare on occasion. The one where I run my tongue along my teeth and they crumble out of my mouth. In my dreams, that specific nightmare, I always have a second, sometimes a third set of teeth coming in, like a shark.

I found pictures in the desk of C+ and a girl today. He looked happy. It's been so long since I've seen him happy, because I make him so unhappy. It was a strange, odd pang of loss, yet it made me happy. I miss that part of him so much. You mentioned earlier this week about marriage and doubting the institution. I love being married, specifically, I love being married to C+. We were a united front. I knew that no matter what happened in the outside world, I would come home and be loved. The reasons we aren't together aren't for today in this post. Know this, all relationships have a beginning, a middle and an end. The end doesn't always get to mean death. My marriage didn't fail. I just can't believe that. I want the best thing for C+ and for myself and we just didn't seem to be able to fix the problems. Being married, when it's great, there is no comparison. We felt like an unstoppable machine.

This is making me sad and I still have to fix a very lackluster Thursday dinner. I'm still working my way though my endless supply of chicken thighs. Stupid Costco. Everything seems like a good idea there.

Love,

L

No pain, not plain.

What is the point of the exercise?

Another day of craptacular behavior and stress. Some good things did occur nevertheless: the film guys will be coming over to our area. Go Team Captain! Who, incidentally, takes his coffee black.

One of the troublemakers at work - let's call him Vizzini - made motions of jeopardizing the process earlier in the day, but put a lid on it in the meeting. Perhaps he finally took some meds. It's incredible how one person can maliciously and deliberately cause so much trouble. I used to think of him as a coyote/Loki/trickster character, but now I just think he's a jerk.

I also think this is what's on my wrist. It's referred to a "bible bump" in colloquial vernacular. Oy.

I can barely keep my eyes up, can't think straight.. Gotta go to bed, more soon, xoxoL.

I have a bit of a headache from the weather. It's making me squint because the light hurts. Aspirin will kick in soon.

I made the birthday cake for V. I think it turned out well, it was gone by the time I got down there. We sat and talked for ten minutes or so. My least favorite sub was in Mr. L's class, so I left early. She's useless. Here's the thing about V, the thing that always gives me pause and makes me feel good about walking away. He makes me feel ordinary and I don't mean calming to the crazy part of me. I mean, when he looks at me, I think he sees pedestrian, dull.

When I was trying to explain to Rox about the new body versus the old, she said if she had understood my esteem was so low, she would have helped me. I don't have low self-esteem. I'm feeling pretty good about myself now and always have. If anything, a little pop of the esteem bubble now and then is not a bad thing for me. I bring something to the table other people don't. I am a thoroughbred, a destrier. I am not ordinary or mundane or dull, nor do I want to feel like that. I may not understand my physicality, but I understand my intellect and humor. It was impossible to explain this to Rox, who places so much of her esteem in her looks. I don't need to feel beautiful, although it is a nice perk and might keep me from running away from compliments. Literally. I don't want to hang with someone who sees me as grey and boring and sometimes when I leave V, he makes me feel like that. That he thinks I'm interchangeable with whoever is going to walk into the room after I leave. That I might be the same invisible girl that I used to be.

I think I left that girl behind me. Bring on the pedestal.

Rahrah!

L

Small and Raw

The usual shenanigans.
One of the Drive By Press blocks. I heart luchadores!
Printing went pretty well last night but my body is paying the price today. Because I'm short and the press is tall, I have to stand on a fairly tall platform to print. C built one so I can use the press, which was really sweet. But to put the paper in, I have to step off the platform and reach way up. Printing becomes even more physical than it was. Only two ibuprofin so far, so I feel optimistic. Here are some images from printing:
On press.
Petit Fleurs!

It never stops - got a call from the organizer of this weekend's presentation, there's still lots of printing to do on the invites,have to get a piece to the museum today, I have to visit a student in her studio after work, and fundraising for the Latino exhibition is beginning in earnest. Damn, I just wanted to move on to the prime/love/fish book. I can wait 'till the weekend, just don't want to. Oh well.

It doesn't leave me much time to think, or sleep, and I'm feeling raw. Like a celeriac root. U.g.l.y. now what is my alibi?

I wonder what the rest of the day will bring.
xoxoL.
I fell asleep. I'm still working with this cold. Every time I lay down, everything drains into my head and I start coughing. Fine during the day, miserable trying to sleep. I came home and passed out on the couch with the Pig. No gym today.

Truth be told, yesterday kind of freaked me out a little. My inability to have an adult reaction was disappointing to me. Mary Ellen would not be proud. Cowering in the locker room, because someone called me cute is not a way to go through life. It's the attention that's new and scary. I try to work with it, play with the idea that it's ok for people to look at me, that it might be ok for me to stand out a little, but yesterday kind of snuck up on me. It's all bigger thoughts for a braver day. Today is about little thoughts, like "Why can't I get my picture to load into blogger?"

Niall came by work today to pick up some stuff for Margaret. I asked him if looking like you're homeless came with being retired. Niall always wore a button down shirt and tie, except on Fridays. Today, he was wearing the red quilted, buffalo plaid jacket. I don't think he's cut his hair since school started. He looked great and relaxed and happy. Retirement fits him well. I knew I missed him, but I didn't know how much until I saw him.

Tonight I am making Winter Spiced Molten Chocolate Cakes. It's V's birthday this weekend and he's going to New York. I sucked up to the home ec teacher and she's going to let me use an oven tomorrow. The cakes are easy-peasy, but they have to be baked then and there. Does he deserve a chocolate cake? I'm not sure. I'm going to file that under the bigger questions for another day. He doesn't like birthdays. You know what I think? Someone who doesn't like birthdays probably had a couple of sucky ones. I was thinking this is something small I can do for a friend.

Work to be done in the kitchen. Then I'm going to play Warcraft. Today is a killing stuff, kind of day.

Puffs,

L

P.S. Thank you Nonny Mouse. It's appreciated more than you know.

Who's the Institutional Type?

This is why I love my students.

On the whole, students are fairly considerate people, whether or not they are motivated. The little treasures they bring are an underground currency. While not a tit for tat exchange, during their class I try to bring in materials/books/etc. that will help develop their thinking and further their projects (as long as I'm not doing their work for them) and am sometimes rewarded with gifts such as this. It is unlikely that this gift would occur in a major metropolis. More likely that the whole bird would arrive in paper, hopefully with a note.

The pleasures that Western Georgia has to offer.
This is my favorite picture from the trip. A full service establishment, from snout to sphincter.
Favorite picture without people, anyways.

Today was a blur. I'm swamped with work and tomorrow has to be filing day. I have piles on my desk that are over six inches tall. Tonight is printing - I'm wayyyy behind on the wedding invites - I'm going to try and print both linoleum runs tonight - it will depend on how quickly the ink dries. This project is soooo stressful that I can't wait till it's done. I farkin hate wedding invites. I didn't mind when I was in grad school, but I have grown to dislike it immensely. The last ones I print will be my own, and who knows if that will happen? I flop between optimism and irritation. Not sure if I'm the institutional type. Every friend I have who has done it and ended it said they'd never do it again.

My thoughts are all tangly. I really need to sleep and spend some thinking time, but must work work work.

Later gator,
xoL.

Freakingoutfreakingoutfreakingout.

Mr. Ed Hardy guy at the gym hit on me. It's not bad. It's not a bad thing, it's me. It's all me.

I've seen it coming for a couple of weeks. It was the looks. He'd be on the side by the women's locker room to say hi. He was picking equipment closer to the ones I was working on, creeping in like the topiary in the Shining.

The scale to weigh yourself is behind the counter, next to the water fountain. I like to weigh myself, not because I want to lose anything, but because I want to stay at this spot. Sometimes I need to sneak in an Odwalla bar, if I start to lose a pound or two. Gaunt and drawn is not attractive. I was weighing myself and he asked if I was like 75 pounds? 85 pounds? Because I was the cutest, tiniest thing he'd ever seen. My head was down and I think I starting to shake a little. I jumped on the scale, with a sweeping hand announced, nope. 108. And ran the other direction. That's when I hid in the locker room and called you. I was afraid to come out and see him again.

Here is what I think. I think it was the first time I've been hit on by someone who wasn't drunk. Blasted. It's easy to shrug off and dismiss if they are drunk. Someone sober called me cute. Someone thought it was a good idea to flirt with an athlete. Now that part is really weird.

I am not brave enough for this new world. Is there one more cabin in the woods that needs a crazy person?

Love,

L

P.S. I'll try to introduce myself. I think I'm a hundred years older than him. He watches Fox News. Oh god.

Better Luck Next Time

Walking up to the Double Door, I say to Jay, "I owe you 20 bucks."

Jay: For what?

Me:For the tickets.

Jay: What tickets?

Me: For the show.

Jay: We're going to buy them there.

As we are passing the sign that reads "100% sold out."

We went to the Inner Town Pub and had some beer.

I told him I'm buying the Sloan tickets tomorrow.

Muggles,

L

Catapult

Home again, Jack.

I am not going anywhere (except within an hour's distance to give a presentation) for the next week and a half. Woo-hoo! I never mind traveling, but I haven't done this much for a while and it's a little unsettling. But good for me. This weekend was very good for me. It reminded me of how much I love what I do and interacting with other people who do it too.

Today was a long day on the road. I saw a "Homeland Security" minibus which looked like the short busses the car rental places use to shuttle you from baggage claim to their lot. But it was reeeeeallly clean. I also saw all sorts of odd and bad driving, beautiful foggy valleys, and had too much crappy radio. No Kid Rock (yay!) or Blue Oyster Cult (boo!). Not enough singing tunes on the radio anymore. (though there was one beautiful 80's flashback with Cutting Crew-I love that song so much!) Might just be the I-20 stretch. But if you're into Jesus, then that is your highway to heaven. At one point I think I crossed eight stations preaching the word. All different tones, voices, persuasive arguments. It was like trying to find the right color at the paint chip display. And not finding it.

Two SoA episodes tonight. I'm SO glad Chibs is back! It's an intense show - makes TV worth watching. So, I'll spend the last hour and a half of the day in the studio, and then to bed so I can get up early and try to set my head on for returning to work. I think I need to start writing that book now.

xoxoL.
p.s. I never realized how much the lead singer looks like Karl. Freaky.

If you are thinking, "Why Lynn, you do not look like you are ready to leave the house for a concert," you would be thinking the same thing as me. Jay and I are supposed to go see Hank III and Assjack at the Double Door tonight. Jay has not called me with what time w....

Ok...ok.. Jay just called. 8:30. Show starts at 9:00. Boy, I was an idiot when I agreed to this one. It's 7:00. I've got to get in the shower and get a move on. He's given me an hour. Why do boys wait until the last minute. Ug.

I'm too scattered to type. If I get back soon enough, I'll let you know about the concert. I think it's going to be quite a spectacle.

Monday's going to be a rough go.

Puggles.

L

The A's and B's and G's

A good day.

Last night I got to log time with my Athens girl posse at The Grit and had the best collards I've ever had of my life. Then a skip over to the Go Bar for more conversation. Fun!!

Today was a great day. I got up an hour late but had planned well enough and arrived slightly early. The programming was interesting and fun, I saw some old friends and made new ones, and my presentation went well. If you stay in the field long enough, you always run into people you know. I don't usually hang with the printmakers, but the world seems to be drawing me in. A very nice woman from the Atlanta Printmakers Studio said she'd like to have me come teach a workshop - I would love for that to pan out. And Drive By Press was the coolest!!

I'm in the hotel by the U of West GA now and the TV is providing its usual amusement: HG TV just did a panning crotch shot of a male designer, CNN has a show on the Jonestown massacre, and lots of animal shows. A good one about a dogsled bringing medicine to Alaskan towns (especially Nome) in 1925. And a very attractive JC in some weird movie about airplanes with a not attractive NC, B, and Malkovich.

So, tomorrow will be a very long haul home, but it was a great weekend. I'll talk to you on the morrow. It's time to go to sleep. After Mythbusters.
xoxoL.

Mr. Mystery was hiding in my backseat. Go figure. I made a comment to Kelly about not being kid friendly. I just don't know if someone needs a car seat or what side of the car they need to get out of. Stuff parents know. Then I found Mr. Mystery in the back seat from our road trip. Kelly said I was kid friendly. Being a grown child doesn't necessarily make me friendly, does it?

I made it off my couch for a little bit, but I'm heading back in a second. Kelly and her daughter G and I went to the Handmade Market at the Empty Bottle. Little G was the only one who bought anything. Knitter A and Knitter V from the Hideout had a booth there and we chatted for a little bit. Knitter V is going to teach spinning at the next Dirty Needles meetup. I have the drop spindle and the roving, so I'm set.

We did go to Sweet Mandy B's after the market for some cupcakes.

It was Kelly and G's first time there. Little G was made for the place. Her shirt match the walls and the cupcake.

I'm back to the pajamas. It was a little too much out in the world time today. The elephant that is resting on my chest is making me sleepy.

Muffs,

L

P.S. There are too many initials in the post today. I confused myself a little. Sorry.

It Was No Garden Party

And on my trip I'll bring an Awl, a Binding, a Cutting Tool. . .

Big adventures await this weekend. I need some time at home, but that is not to be. =sigh=. I'll call today. Nothing profound as of yet this morning, just errands and I saw Tattoo Bill. What a charmer!

I think all the family drama is over for now, who knows when the next mushroom will pop up? It'll be good to go for a drive, get my head on straight. I'm starting to see the behavioral patterns of my family members, the cyclical nature of the patterns. What's the best way to break them? The only person I can manage is myself, so that's how it will be. I'm trying to scoop off the dross, set boundaries, be honest about things, take my lumps, and clean house. It doesn't please everyone, oh well. (cue up the Ricky Nelson)

Ok chief, gotta go, need to stay on schedule. Meteor shower next week, and that's what I'll keep in mind. It's rainy here, but supposed to subside by the afternoon. Ida is done with her bath of destruction. Luckily, this time, we're unscathed.

xoxoL.

Does my head look hot to you? I got sick on the field trip. That happened before I got sick of the field trip. My entire job on a field trip is to make sure Mr. L stays on time and we get to see everything he wants to see. This is not a task for the weak. Today, it required some tugging on his sleeve and pointing at my wrist. I might have hissed at him a few times....but we saw everything we wanted to see for the class and more.

How about some museum pictures so I can stop typing. Typing hurts my head.

They are getting ready for the Christmas display in the rotunda.

The new exhibit of the body slices.

Chicks, man.

The new building for the submarine is pretty awesome.

One Mold O Rama picture, just for you.

These are the four students we lost on the way to the bus....but then we found them. I thought we should leave them.

It was a good day, a survivable day. But I've been home for a half hour and I'm still not in my pajamas. There's something wrong with that and I need to fix it right now. My eyeballs hurt.

Puffs!

L

P.S. Ok, one more picture. It's not a great picture, but if you look closely on the right, you can see Mr. L taking pictures of our kids. On Monday we always have a slideshow from our field trip.

P.S. Ok. One super last thing. On the way to the food court, we passed Foucault's Pendulum. A student asked me to explain how it worked. I thought of you.

Inmates and Outings.

Inmates 1, Asylum 0. Today's match continued the tradition of a week of infighting, betrayals, drama, the thrill of victory, and the agony of defeat. One particular coworker is at the root of a lot of the chaos, and it will be interesting to see how the chaos is eliminated. Universities move slowly, but when a decisive action is taken, it is a deliberate and heavy-handed move. It's interesting how one person (one aide?) can make so much trouble. It reminds me of mildew - not always visible, but it stinks and leaves an ugly stain.

Crap, guess what we forgot? TO list the names. Okay, maybe tomorrow?

I am really tired and there's tons to do. Waiting for my paycheck to go through so I can pay bills before I leave town (again). I briefly stopped by the tattoo shop to do some art business with the bookmaker. Even though we talked last night, it seemed like we were happy to see each other. I like our friendship - it's easy, kind, and fun. I wish they all were.

I'm still mulling over the family crap from yesterday. I was sent an explanation (but, it was emphasized,) not an apology. That's fine. I was wrong. No apology is owed. Nor do I need to forgive. Feet don't go in mouths, they go in socks. Fark it. It's done, what's done is done.

Well, got go get into the studio and carve my little heart out. Sometimes I wish it was someone else's.
Melancholialy yours,
L.

I am on the verge of a cold. It might just be my general fear of the field trip tomorrow. We have enough kids going that Missy Boss thought we needed to bring another chaperone. Mr. L told me it was going to be V. Bad. Very bad. V was only being asked to go because we have so many aides with huge absences. The latest trick of the slacker coworkers is to show up for your job and say you are sick during first period so you can go home and your name doesn't appear on the absence list. So, V had his nose out of joint because it's one more instance where there is no reward for doing your job well. With some jockeying on my part, we arranged it so one of the absentee aides is going to go....if she shows up tomorrow.

I was walking down to the computer lab, to drown myself in circus peanuts, thinking about V. Why did I bother fixing it? He could have sucked it up and gone, right? Who is fixing things for me? My going on this field trip was never in question. Part of it was my own comfort level. I don't think I wanted to spend the day with him. A larger part of me is thinking I need to stop being such a control freak and just let the chips fall where they may. The problem was solved when V was asked to go. Instead, I turned it into my problem, poking and prodding people where I wanted them to be.

Crumb, I hate it when the underlying problem is me.

Wish me luck tomorrow. Should be interesting.

Muggles.

L

P.S. One of the slackers called in today with the swine flu. Said she'd be out until after Thanksgiving. Not making that up.

She's got Bette Davis Thighs.

It's a work night. Lots of carving to do.

It's already 9:15. Today was a blur. This week has been a very intense, political, and busy one. And the fun will continue tomorrow. Tomorrow we also have the staff meeting to hear about what's what. Where people are, what projects are at the top of the list, graduation. Big stuff. A lot of the new committees have been calling folks to the carpet to follow the code, not fully understanding that they are subject to the same and if it is to be followed to the letter, that it is to be followed by everyone. It's interesting, like watching worms in a bucket wriggle for position. Team Captain and the squad were at the meeting tonight. They didn't stick around for the fun. It'll be great having them come over. TC also mentioned wanting to add women to the faculty. He seems like a good guy - too bad we are coworkers.

Hooky sounds good. I'm off to Print Dialogue Days on Friday. I'll be lucky if I have time to kiss my arse goodbye this month. Oy. December will be good.

My dad left a sh!t sandwich message on my FB page (crap between two nice slices of bread). Here's the filling: "You look like a lovely woman and if you want to look like a beautiful woman, stop cooking and go do some exercise!" Who needs unconditional love, anyways? I guess I missed the bus (or he did). Grrrrr. Sometimes I wonder if I got a wasting illness that ate away my body, would he be sad about the sickness but happy because I was thin? I wish therapy was tomorrow.

I have to get to the studio and call the bookmaker - we need to talk about our next show. It's been pouring all day - residue from Ida. I'm loving it. One more day, and then sun for driving. Wheeeee!
I miss you.
xoL.
p.s. I forgot to tell you the best part - when I told him that the SF MoMA bought one of my books he said, "Good, but did they offer you a job?" Our family knows how to put the fun in dysfunction. WTF???

I played hookey today and it was awesome! Here's the list of what I accomplished.

1. Decided I was disgruntled enough to call in sick and stay home

2. Slept until 8:34

3. Drank too much coffee

4. Played Warcraft while drinking too much coffee. I'm working on the Explorer Achievement. It's easiest to go into enemy territories during the day when very few people are playing.

5. Went to Costco

6. Bought...as Grams called them..unmentionables....

7. Thought about the fact that I wasn't at work, while driving in the sunshine, singing bad 70's classic rock songs. Triumph, I think it was. It felt like stealing time.

8. Went to the gym and saw a Law and Order that was new to me.

Now I am cooking dinner. Nothing interesting. Chicken thighs and rice. I am so sick of chicken thighs. I am not buying them from Costco anymore. They never go away from my freezer. I can't explain it.

Today totally made up for my weekend! I've started the Whisper Cardigan. Kelly and I traded needles. She's the only girl I'd ever trade needles with.

Puffs!

L

P.S. In honor of Veterans Day, here is a collection of soldiers being welcomed home by their dogs. It made me cry. Just a little. Dogs are cool.

Sacrificing the Battle to Win the Score

Not quite out from under it.

I like this yarn, and I like that the website provides patterns for the yarn. I started thinking about different properties of the yarn and thought, "shouldn't there be a periodic table of knitting?" Of course, someone else already had that thought. You do knit a fair bit of lace patterns and rarely seem happy with them. Maybe it's time to put the lacy stuff down for a while? I don't know. Maybe it's the battle that's sexy, and maybe it's just lousy yarn. It's hard to make a good choice when there is a lot of external interference.

We've talked about how the last couple weeks have been crazy, that it must be something cosmic. It seems like this week is continuing the trend. Hopefully, next month will bring a little relief. Today was another day on the wack express, though we got a ton of work done which felt great. Tomorrow will bring more intensity - meetings, deadlines, and a boatload of curiosity. I'm going to try and keep Libby's suggestion in mind: to watch it like a play.

I had coffee with the Team Captain tonight. It was fun. We'll do it again. It's nice hanging out with a guy when the pressure is off.

I hate this. I hate the yarn and I'm starting to hate the pattern. I bought the yarn when I was in L.A. and was trying to get away from Roxanne for a couple of hours. Roxanne talks endlessly, from the moment she gets up until whenever she drops asleep. There was one day where we drove to Burbank on porn business and went to Pasadena for dinner. We left at 2:00 and got home at 10:00. She talked the whole time. Turning up the radio is not a big enough clue, apparently. Neither was jumping on the couch with a blanket and pillow, when we got home, and opening a book. Point being, my judgement was clouded when I bought this skein. It's not inexpensive yarn. But it is scratchy and it is in a color I would never wear. Yes. I hate it. Now what do I do?

The bowling field trip today ended with a cell phone theft and fight. Now, I am looking forward to the trip to the Museum of Science and Industry on Friday. Say it with me...

Woot.

L

P.S. Mr. L has taken up geocaching which, I gotta tell you, really appeals to my inner nerd. My best, simplest, explanation is that it's like a high tech Easter egg hunt. He tells me non-geocachers are called Muggles and that made me laugh. Hard. So, this kid says I have an evil laugh. That I laugh just like Cruella DeVille. This made me happy. It might be the best compliment I get all week.

Pardon me, Sir, can you draw me a sleep?

ST Press motto in effect tonight: working through the wee hours.

Or is that the "wheeeee" hours? Kiki gave me a coke before a left Raleigh at 11:45 tonight, one of those lunchbox sized ones, and I'm not remotely tired but have to get up in three hours...
The Denver sky was extraordinary at 5:45 p.m. (their time) tonight - a glowing slate blue - almost storm light, but no storm. It's a really interesting city to fly into - the mountains are so different from the west coast, but enticing in a greener way.

Stenfors turned out to be quite the hottie! (I love guys with glasses) Those Finns tend to be mighty tall. And it's freezing there, so I'm sure they could use another needle whiz. Could you knit us some greener pastures? :)

More manana, got the Team Captain's coffee invite today.
xoL.

Some days it's just a mug shot.

I wish I could dazzle you with all the fascinating things going on here, but in reality, it's just a Monday. The kids were sleepy and I wasn't poking anyone awake.

Since I found that Andy McCoy video on youtube (what a dangerous place that is) I've been thinking about Hanoi Rocks. They were my high school obsession. I am well aware that I am an audience of one as far as this blog goes. I loved them. I met Mike Monroe when I was in college. I have frostbite in two of my toes, from waiting to meet him. A very uncomfortable condition, by the way. I'm not one for autographs. I wanted to see if he was as beautiful in person as he was in pictures. He was and kind to boot. He invited me on the bus to warm up and I met his wife. A couple of years ago, V got me Sami Yaffa's autograph. (A very nice gesture, but, really, what to do with it? I like the experience more than the piece of paper.)

Here's the funny thing. You know how you can find anything, anything, on the internet. My favorite in the band was Nasty Suicide. In the picture, he's the one with the sunglasses. (Real name: Jan Stenfors. Not very rock.) I had posters all over my room. So, band breaks up, side projects happen. Stenfors moves back to Finland, cleans up his act, goes back to school and becomes a pharmacist. Every once in a while, I'd google his name and see if there was a new album or something, but nothing. Like disappearing into the ether. Then Hanoi had their last concert in spring and there was this picture. (He has the mohawk. He looks like Donie.) It gets stranger. My question is, what's in the water in Finland and can I get me some? Check out this photo. I think I like the idea that a fulfilling life can be found parallel to one so destructive.

Today it's about amusing an audience of one. I can't wait until you get back. I need stories, please.

Miss you Poodles!

L

P.S. I have always wanted to go to Helsinki and eat at the restaurant Kappeli. I don't care that they serve reindeer, it's just so pretty. Try googling it. Every picture is better than the next. I have dreams about it. Do you think they need one more knitter in Finland?

Out, damned spot.314!

Sunday night is Sunday night no matter where you are.

I think I understand but would like to hear the particulars. I think you've hit on one of the tenets of modern psychology - keep your drama to yourself and do your own work. Don't go dragging my sh!t around. Isn't that a Stevie Nicks line?

Today was another good day and I don't want to leave but I'm looking forward to getting back into the studio and my routine. And the kitts! I am now officially behind on carving linoleum. Tuesday night is going to be a bitch. I won't get the wedding invites finished this week. Fark me. The groom was at David's party tonight, which was awesome. Really fun, lots of good friends, Mike was there (and we cut into the b-day cake early so he could have some before he left - the things I do to take care of my friends!), Jud (the groom) was there, and I got to talk to one of the two mathematicians about prime numbers. The conversation carried over to number theory, which is way out of my league, but it was great. Whooie! I think I'm ready to start working on the text.

I really wish I understood math more - whenever I hear people talking about the ideas, they're so cool. It's like French - sounds great, wish I could participate. Math is just another language, right? Matt the Math guy showed me this really cool equation about how the golden mean (1.618) times pi (3.14), both irrational numbers, times an integer can theoretically be used to chart all the points on a circle. I think I'm oversimplifying it, but it was soooo interesting. There are so many places art and math (okay, art and anything) overlap, and I want to fully know the language of my country (Art). Oh well, in time it will happen.

I think this is the beginning of a period of huge change for us both. Isn't that how this blog started, in part? I know we've both had more than our share, but we're not done. Hold on tight. I firmly believe that something good waits for us on the other side. I truly do.

Loaf and let's talk Tuesday,
xoxoL.

p.s. the friend of the girlfriend breakup called. I'm not ready to listen to the message. I don't want to deal with that crap until after Georgia when I hope to be less pissed off. Grrrrrrrr.

Can I make this any clearer; here's what I think about other people's drama. I've got my own. Stay the fuck out of my house. There are specifics and particulars, but that part doesn't matter. It carries no weight with me. Silence can be my gift too. C+ taught me well and I am an excellent student.

Phew. Sorry about that. Happy to have it off my chest.

It's a quiet Sunday. I've decided to put the Whisper Cardigan on the back burner. I was heading out to buy new needles and I thought about the concerts coming up. Our hot water heater is not working the way that it should. Now is not the time for knitting spending. Darn. I hate being frugal.

Last night I watched part of a documentary/ movie starring Andy McCoy, guitarist for Hanoi Rocks. It was produced for Finnish t.v. and it's half in Finnish, half in English. I wouldn't exactly recommend it. It's for a certain demographic and I'm in that demographic. (i.e. rabid Hanoi fan.) It was a strange movie. The parts where Andy was real, talking about real things, not the fabricated rock star, video moments, are difficult to watch. He was a beautiful, striking looking kid, full of talent and he ends up strung out and wasted. It hurts the heart.

I'm off for more puttering. It's a beautiful fall day, like stealing time. I've got to get the patio furniture away. Thrills and glamor every minute around here.

Later Gator!

L

P.S. Sorry about the actual F.U.'s. It's been that kind of week. Back to fark tomorrow. Ha!

Stellar Orbits

I can't figure out how to turn off the flash.

Hey, I'm so proud of you!!! Ravelry? Awesome! You might not like that one, but I love it and would wear it if it were another color (like blue). You are way more talented than you give yourself credit for being. I haven't seen a single thing you've made that I don't like. The things you've made for me always garner compliments.

As always, another stellar day in the land of La. My favorite breakfast today - not the food, but reading the LA Times while eating breakfast with my Anti and Unkle, then a hike up the dirt road by the house (the Santa Monica mountains) where I gather my annual (and tiny) batch of sage. I love it up there, and inadvertently caught some sun. Everything is ridiculously and strangely green because of the rains. It's invigorating and inspiring. Absolutely gorgeous and things smell and feel right. It's a massive climate change for me - even though G'ville is on almost the same latitude, the weather couldn't be more different.

We went to Griffith Observatory today. Holy crap, I knew it would be interesting, but it was the COOLEST place! It's got all kinds of heavenly things to see, including gorgeous and ominous murals from the 1930's, a real Foucault Pendulum, calibrated for Los Angeles, and a real Tesla Coil! We didn't see everything. My friend Mike, who I haven't seen since college, met us there and it was supergreat (!) to see him. He's such a sweetie. He's going to be my date at David's party tomorrow. Jud, Kat's fiancee and a friend, will also be there. And, I get to pick the brain of one of David's mathematician friends about Prime Numbers!!! I took a picture of a number "19" on the pendulum just for you. I wanted the 17, but there were a lot of people. Either way, all good. I can't wait 'till I can go back again. The architecture is absolutely gorgeous, and there were all these cool brass inlays in the floor and on the grounds. One part shows the distance of the nine planets' rotation around the sun. I could go on . . .

Yummy salad and turkey for dinner, and now it's craft night. I think you can see why I never want to leave. The days all go too fast. Ok off to carve linoleum for Kat and Jud's wedding invites.
xoxoL.

I'm ok. Just hiding. No one apologized, because no one was wrong. It's just his hurt piling onto my hurt until there was the minor explosion. I'm sure there'll be more, but I hope not.

I made it to knitting, sans wine. I only stayed for an hour. Long enough to chat up the two Betsy's and show one how to purl. (We have two Betsy's and two Lynn's. What are the chances?) The Betsy's are hilarious. One of them refers to me in the outside world as the Stitch Doctor. If I had a business card, I'd want this little guy, only with needles and yarn. Hey...not a bad idea...

I baked the rest of the gingerbread, but didn't feel like decorating them. It looks like Pollack barfed frosting in my kitchen. I'm off to watch Hellboy 2 and work on my second Felicity hat. I screwed the pooch at knitting on Friday. I was supposed to stop at 5 inches and kept going to 7. Just kept staring, knitting around and around and around. I'm sure I was quite a fright.

That's it, Lovely. Hope you get to stick your toes in the ocean. The sound of the Pacific is enough to heal a world of hurt. I can't explain it, either.

Muffles,

L

P.S. I just got a request from Ravelry to feature a photo of one of my knits. So when you search the pattern, my knit comes up. Here's the funny thing. I knit the sweater for C+. I hated it. He hated it. It made him look like a lumpy Muppet and it's tough to make him look bad. I gave it to a coworker and she looks amazing in it. Weird weekend.

Not Enough Room on the Sofa

I'm in the bonus room!

Crap, I just read your post. I don't like the reindeer games. I am sorry he's being a jerk. Maybe it's time for you to stop aiming at pleasantries? Let the knitters help you with the stitch and bitch. And get a good lawyer. I wish I were there to go to SOFA with you - it's one of my favorite things, too. I think you should go anyways. Fark him. Ask a pal (I have ideas...I'm sure you know what I'm thinking). I also think that she can be referred to now as "girlfriend". The fact that she's married doesn't seem to bother him, so why should it bother us? If you're still up, feel free to call when you get back from the Hideout. Let's have the time delay work in our favor this weekend.

I've already seen the ocean (heaven! I could spend all day there - we even saw dolphins!), bought linocut tools, my Anti drove us home through my favorite canyon, and we've had a good dinner tonight - bro David is here, extra fun! The only weirdness is that my mom's cremains are sitting in a postbox on the counter. It feels bizarre. And I love death, with all its customs, wild behaviors, thoughts, community activities and questions. I've been to a med school morgue and I've seen the monstrosities like the two-headed baby in a jar, but I never could wrap my head around cremation and I don't seem to be able to do it now. Mom's field trip might have to wait until January so I can get a handle on myself.

But for the next three days, it's all love. Home, family, love. So, love, call me when you can. I don't care if it's the middle of the night, feel free to call.

xoL.

p.s. It takes two to tango. The martyr act is a stale one that is only good for 13th and 14th century peasants. Nobody goes down alone. He is just as responsible for the demise of the relationship.

C+ and I had a fight. The difference with the fights now is that no one feels compeled to apologize. We are at the end game and don't feel the need to resolve hurt feelings. It's worse, borderline horrible. C+ hates his job, hates being at home. He walks around like a wounded animal all the time. I try to keep the house as pleasant as possible, to make our situation workable. It's always me showing up, being pleasant, making sure he gets the food he wants, making sure he gets to do something fun on the weekend to get his mind off of things. His silence is the thing he gives me to make things comfortable. There is no one looking out for me. No one. That point was driven home tonight, like an out of control truck through my living room.

C+ got tickets to SOFA. He's taking not my girlfriend. Last year, I was so looking forward to going. I asked him to go with. We were still working on our marriage at the time. He was such a prick about going. The cost, the effort. He grumbled the whole time, even when we got the VIP tickets. So this year he's taking not my girlfriend. There it is. I thought we were still looking out for each other. I was wrong. It was only me looking out for him, making sure he is ok.

I'm supposed to go to knitting and pretend like everything is ok. Gotta find those bootstraps and I feel so weak. I'm not really sure how I'm going to pull this off.

Fuck.

I miss you.

L

Good News Travels Fast

Fun with the Bun.

Dishes done, am about to pack and head out. Speaking of that, shrinkage was decent today. One of those speed skating days where more questions were brought up than answered, but that's okay. We strategized. That self-help book I was using to press plants and then as a doorstop? We're going to take it by tiny bites. It'll work.

Work? Well, people were in a good state of mind. Problems, big ones, got solved today. And like the academic hydra that we battle, more came to take their place. Nevertheless, much fun was had. And I got paid for a piece, and used it to help a friend pay his rent. It feels good to help people. It wasn't much, only $25, and it's tight, but I know the feeling and did what I could.

I'm a little embarrassed about having such good news. Libby and I talked about that, too, but I was skating so fast that I didn't spend much time on it. And she was so excited, she told me it's hard to focus on the embarrassment.

I might be poor, but damn, my life is rich. And I consider you a HUGE part of that. Artists don't work in vacuums. We couldn't do what we do without our peeps.

I love you, Peep!
xoxoL.

I'm not entirely sure I had a good time tonight. I went knitting at the Hideout. The women were really nice. One of them worked at the Reader for a sizable amount of time before being laid off. She remembered C+'s art work. (Most people who picked up the Reader do. Probably a third of those sent him hate mail.) I don't know. The woman I sat with, she's a spinner. She owns a farm and a condo on the south side and commutes between the two. Pretty interesting woman. One woman was crocheting a poodle for a bottle of booze. I thought that was an unfortunate waste of time.

I like to look around. Check out my surroundings. It's a Thursday night. Thursday nights are pro drinker nights. The warm up for the weekend. It's always an interesting crowd on a Thursday at a bar. Do you know what men were wearing? (More than one.) Union glasses, like Jeffery Dalmer. I love a man in glasses, but living your life defined by irony? No thank you. Crochet booze holder? I don't think I'm cool enough to pull it off. I felt like I was sitting next to the hipster table in high school. It wasn't a good feeling.

I think I'm rambling.

Oh, there was performance art too, in the room with the stage.

(How many performance artists does it take to screw in a light bulb? I don't know, I left.)

So, to recap, I met a spinner who is willing to teach me. I learned I can't hang with the hipsters, but I can knit circles around them. (Not the spinner, though. She was pretty awesome.)

I love being your peep. I am so lucky!

Safe travels. I miss you already.

L

P.S. Ok, one more. How many goths does it take to change a lightbulb? None, they'd rather sit in the dark and cry.

Ugg, a Louse.

I checked it out of the library. It's good.

The weirdness at work continues - it's like watching a pot of water boil, from the tiny bubbles to the simmer to the roiling curls. We're not at full boil yet, but I'm sure it's a matter of time and I don't know which pot will boil over first. The Situation has reached a resolution and is wearing the cloak of the Swhine Floo for several weeks. (I can spell it, just don't want it searchable.) It's a bit of a relief. Things got so goofy that we were laughing. We do have a good group of folks, and really help each other deal. Tonight I saw a sneak preview of The Fourth Kind on campus. It was really lame. I've never been one for pseudo-documentaries unless they were satire, and I don't believe in alien abduction, so I wasn't buying in from the start and nothing in the movie happened to convince me otherwise. I am, on the other hand, looking forward to Men Who Stare at Goats. Grant Heslov, the director, is pretty reliable for picking good plots.

We get out early tomorrow for the Football Game. I'm glad, I have shrinkage, then come home, pack, and head to Raleigh. I'm still reeling in my good news and looking forward to sharing it with my Anti. It's still a little hard to believe. But I have the email to prove it. Incredible. What's next? What pressure!

I wish I could go to all the shows with you. There's no music here.
Would you mind picking up two packages of octopus jerky for me when you go to Mitsuwa? I need them for linocut research.

Let me know when that kid gets arrested. Thanks!

xoxoL.

Ok, I love my Uggs. Love them. But good god they are so hot. Everything from my knees down are so incredibly uncomfortable. I wanted to walk from the building to my car in my bare feet. I think these boots are good for the movies. Good for sitting around like a piece of veal. Not so good for running around my job.

I found out today that there are all these great bands coming to town. Some bands I missed earlier in the year and was complaining about. Brendan Benson, A.A. Bondy, The White Rabbits, Sloan. All very exciting. Here's the thing, because there's always a thing. V told me about Sloan coming to town. I don't want to run into him at a show. I'll end up going to most of them by myself and that's fine. If I run into him at a show it's just awkward being alone. I was going to go see Roky Erickson last Saturday and didn't. (Saturday, if you remember, was not a good night for me.) If I had gone, I would have run into V and his ex. I'm over thinking this, I know. It made me feel a little lonely. Don't worry. I'll grit my teeth and go.

I told V about the cryptic email math. He looked at me like I was crazy. It was that kind of day.

I've got the next two days off. Tomorrow during the day, I'm getting my hair touched up. The dye is leeching out quick. At night is the new knitting group, Dirty Needles, at the Hideout. I can't figure out how anyone can knit there. It's dark and there's booze. We'll see. Friday is regular knitting. I've got to get to the vet and to Mitsuwa. I need tea. I'd also like to get to the winter green market at the Peggy Notebaert Museum. I've got four days. Four delicious days that are all mine. None of these things require me to get up early.

Oh, the conflict resolution was fine. It should have been done last week. Like lancing a wound. The point might be moot. The kid was caught earlier this week smoking pot in front of a school. He's eighteen. There might be jail time before the field trip.

It was that kind of day.

Puffs,

L

Letting the Burdens Roll Off

buh-bye.

I think I just had a "girlfriend break up". That hasn't happened in ages, and it's usually a slow, natural drift. Remember my friend with the abusive husband? Well, I called her because she's been on my mind and she tells me that she's mad and hurt and hasn't been responding to my messages because I said that I wanted to see her but not her husband. Okay, no biggie, I understand that and I apologized for making her feel hurt. I did say again that I don't like him because he's abusive. So I tell her I won't say anything. She asks me about my art and I say a thing or two, we're joking, and then I steer the conversation back to her because I really don't want to talk about myself with her. (It's been like this for a long time, and she's much happier talking about herself anyways. Asking about me has always seemed like a courtesy). Then she explains that she's upset because we've been best friends for a long time and she feels like she could say anything to me and she's upset that she can't talk about him. So I say it's all right, she can talk and I'll listen. So I ask her about job stuff and she's telling me about insurance and how if you've made a suicide attempt then you can't get insurance but her husband's company gets it for them, no questions asked, and how that's great but their admin stuff is farked up, and then I ask her about the tests she's taking for her new job and we talk about that for a bit. She returns the conversation to how what I've said hurts her. Then she's mad because I won't engage in conversation about him, then proceeds to tell me that I don't understand because I'm not married, that he's been a wonderful husband since her breakdown, and that I don't understand the sacrifices you have to make in a marriage. So I get really pissed and say that since she knows all about it then maybe I should just listen and she said she doesn't think she wants to talk about this or with me right now. I hung up on her.

It makes me sad because this is typical of the abused victim's behavior. She's also busy driving away her family. I'll admit that there's some dysfunction there, but whose family isn't a little dysfunctional? Also, she doesn't take responsibility for her part in the drama. I could use the break. She made her choice years ago, and I'll be here if she ever snaps out of it, but I don't know if she's got the personality to snap out of it. I thought more highly of her (than she does of herself). I might have been mistaken. To be honest, I'm a little relieved. Sad, too, but mostly disappointed. I've never understood why people who are married/have kids/make a lot of money think they're better than other people. But they do. It's a high ground with no foundation.

Has this happened to you, too?

Will the Batgirl Please Raise Her Hand?

One of the only good things about the cooling weather: your knits!
I voted today. We had municipal elections - mayor, district rep, one "at large". The psychic dwarf who escaped from prison. You know. I like voting - it makes me feel like I'm part of a larger process. The part I don't like is the absolutes - one person wins, another loses. I don't want any namby-pamby "everyone gets an award!" kind of thing, but I also like coalition governments. I realized that this year's faculty committees are very much like our paralyzed lawmakers. Lots of fluff and nonsense, not much forward movement. Nevertheless, good things keep happening. Tomorrow I'll learn the results of The Situation. After last week's adventures in HR, I think it will be a relief. Then we'll be on to the next crisis.

I might give myself the holiday present of hiring a maid. I really can't stand this mess, and it's too big for me to do alone. Next home will be much smaller, on purpose.

I finally drafted flowers for the wedding invite project. I've backed myself into a corner, and will be glad to have the project finished. Whew! I love drawing, but am so afraid of sucking at it that it's really hard for me to get into it and sit down and do it. I'm very happy with this morning's results, though, and thought of a project (because I don't have enough to do, right???) - one flower a day. One crazy drawing of a flower head, and then carve it out of linoleum. I'd have a garden at the end of the year. I love the idea, but I don't think I have the tenacity. Oh well, we'll see.

Other than this, a somewhat quiet day. I'm exhausted, and once I do my work in the studio (get the flowers laid out for the invite, transfer onto the linoleum, carve them), I am going to bed. Once I scale this very tall wall . . .

xoxoL.

I skipped the union meeting. V's going to be annoyed. Oh well. I don't necessarily need to feel a part of the larger process. Especially when some days I find it hard to take care of my own little process. Isn't that what a union rep is for? Representing? I'm finding it hard to cope with the work stuff and it felt really good to walk out of the building, knowing I was skipping something. Something important. It felt like a giant f.u. and I haven't had one of those in a while.

I didn't have any reasonable excuse. I went to the gym. And enjoyed myself.

Speaking of V, he brought in a picture of himself, dressed as Batman. He was a child in the pictures, I'm afraid. Not the Christian Bale Batman. The Adam West Batman. (Only one L gets to have the Batman fantasy at a time. Tag. You're it.) So I dove into the attic to see if I could reciprocate. I realized how little of my life I've spent feeling adorable. (V's picture was really stinkin' adorable.) I did, however, find this picture. I was in Wisconsin with my grandparents, recovering from pneumonia. To keep me entertained, Gram Dot would dress the dog up. Fluffy as a fisherman. Fluffy as a bride. Fluffy didn't like it so much. And yes, that is a beer in my hand. Point Beer. So do I bring my picture to the table? I'm not quite sure why we're sharing. Maybe I should figure that question out first.

Tomorrow I have to do some conflict resolution with the kid from last week. He's holding a very creepy grudge. We're going on a field trip next Friday and I've got to be able to talk to him and not feel like he's going to wallop me. There are very few kids that give me the heebie jeebies. A handful in the years I've been there. He's one of them. I hate doing conflict resolution. I don't even like the term. Ug.

Later Lovely.

L

Running to Stand Still from the Grammar Police

This is one of my ten most prized possessions.

Battling the twin dragons of self-loathing and guilt today. Hoping it's pms. All of my monthly horoscopes predict romance this month and I just can't wrap my head around it. This place is so vacant- I feel like a woman in the Sahara being promised a huge bathtub. (have I mentioned my bath fetish?)

Tonight I had a great conversation with a friend who I haven't spoken to in a while. I suggested she call because one of her mentors (a prof at my U and one who is dear to me) is in the process of dying and is fairly ill right now. I thought if we talked and laughed it might make us feel better and it did. I would be lost without my friends.

It's hard to stop the negative self-talk - it's as compulsive as eating or gluing down poppy seeds. I don't understand compulsion - I guess that's why it's an illness. More to discuss this week with Libby. There's a good chance that school will close early on Thursday for the big football game against Virginia Tech (big whoop), so keep your fingers crossed for me! Free us at 2 p.m.! Free, I say, freeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!

xoL.
p.s. tomorrow is little Bro's birthday! Happy 4-oh! (better than happy 4-H? Depends on your feelings about livestock and animal husbandry. Baaaaah.)

Call me Ishmael. Actually, I'm probably closer related to Ahab. My horoscope said a couple of weeks ago to give up the chase of the elusive Moby Dick. I've been trying. So very hard. I'm due for another classic. Maybe I'll conquer the literary Moby Dick, even if I can't seem to put the metaphorical one behind me.

I've had my own run with the strange maths in the last week or so. My car hit 50,000 miles. My yahoo account hit 10,000 sent emails. (Kelly was the lucky recipient of number 10,000. You were 10,001.) My best encounter with our new practical math was this. I've cracked the code of the cryptic email. Mr. X likes to send cryptic missives. Sometimes I think it's because he's lazy, but he always tells me there is truth in jest.

After some close study, I will let you in on the secret formula of the cryptic email.

subject + predicate + 2(prepositional phrase) - pronoun - 1 prepositional phrase= cryptic

Example.

I went for a snack, after the fire truck got here, while the house burned down.

or a better example

You are far scarier, to me, than I ever thought

Cryptic version.

Went for a snack, after the fire truck got here.

or

You are far scarier than I thought.

The point is really to omit critical pieces of information, leaving the reader scratching his or her head. It's like getting hit by a bus, but not being sure if you stepped off the curb or were pushed.

I love practical math. I'm off to the gym to sweat the smart right out of me. Sometimes dumb is better.

Duh.

L

P.S. I like to conquer the classical literature also. Not all of it is good. I loved Nicholas Nickleby, but hated David Copperfield. There is no accounting for taste. I hated Anna Karinina. Hated her. Couldn't wait until she died. She was mean. Plenty of women love this book and see it as romantic, but I'm not buying it. As you said, she was not a positive contributing member of society.