Monday, December 31, 2007

Just an Excuse for a Booze Fest

I'm so grinchy about this holiday.

I hate New Year's Eve.

There is always all this build up and then everything that could go wrong goes wrong . . . plus everyone is hammered. And I've never had fun. There was the time I broke up a fist fight between the employees when I was working at the restaurant. Or that other time when I was pulled over . . . on the street that I currently live on . . . and the cop really wanted me to be drunk and I wasn't, so instead she wrote me for TEN over. (And no, I don't know how fast I was going. My road is very misleading but it is posted at 30 mph.) And then there are the multiple bars and parties that one pays for . . . with cheap booze and obnoxious people.

So I stayed in last year. It was nice. Would like to stay in this year . . . but Princess is having a party and her sister bet that I wouldn't come. Bet. So in my oppositional defiance I have to make a showing.

And it's supposed to snow. Eight inches, according to one radio report. And I didn't make any appetizers. But I do have an excellent bottle of champagne.

So Happy New Year to one and all. I have a couple of mild resolutions, but we will save those for later. And I will put on a happy face and try to have a better attitude. There is always a first time . . . maybe this year will be fun.

Thursday, December 27, 2007

OMFG

So it started as an ordinary day . . . woke up to the phone ringing. Chatted with my mother. Showered. Got dressed. Made plans for tomorrow. Called my brother repeatedly. Finally got his count for the concert. Made sure the thing was all ages, because we are now bringing a 10 year old. (poor spider monkey, being exposed to all the wolves)

Drove done to the Majestic, because 3 dollars in gas is cheaper than the $4.25 a ticket service charge on the internet, especially when purchasing 7 tickets. Chat up the bartender. The show is not even close to sold out, so please come if you want. Ska Fest. December 29. Gangster Fun, Deals Gone Bad, The Exceptions and Mustard Plug (plus a few more bands at the beginning).

And then I see it.

It's orange. A flyer. That says "Matthew Good". As in THE Matthew Good? As in the only person that I am an excited starfucker about (sorry, mom). The Matthew Good that I would swoon if some of his sweat fell on me? The Matthew Good that I think, "God that guy is cute . . . he looks like Matthew Good"? Matthew Good, Canadian musician that no one has heard of and I have to go to Canada to buy his stuff . . . that Matthew Good?

The bartender didn't know, but I recognized his drawing on the flyer. So THAT MATTHEW GOOD. Is coming here. To this town. At the Magic Stick. To play his music. And I can buy tickets?

So I did. Bought tickets so early that the girl didn't even know if they would be on sale. Happy Birthday to me. Matthew Good in Detroit, March 18.

Now everyone will know where I will be. I might even go to Cleveland too.

And I'm very, very, very happy with this turn of events.

Wednesday, December 26, 2007

Too Many Cookies?

I had a horrible dream this morning . . . when I rolled over and went back to sleep. The new alarm is too close to my head, but if I move it across the room I won't be able to see the time projected on the ceiling, which was the whole point of the thing.

Anyhow, I had a dream, one of those really lucid ones that you have in the morning. It was Halloween, and I was dressed as a school girl for some reason . . . knee socks and plaid skirt. And yes, I do have that outfit, but I wouldn't wear it for Halloween. Anyhow, I was with another female, I think my sister and for some reason we slept in my car. A very comfortable sports car. And my dad came and woke us up . . . so we could go to the party store. While in the party store, I saw some actually school-age school girls and realized that they were skipping school. Which meant that I was also skipping school.

So then I had to rush to work. Somehow I had thought we got the day off after Halloween . . . some dream logic coming into play, Halloween being on a Thursday so we must get Friday off, cause the kids are just crazy anyhow. So not being at home, cause I slept in a car, I have to go in this school girl outfit. And it turns out that a lot of people didn't show up for work, so the administration is filling in. So the personnel director is in my room. And I thought it was 8 am at the party store . . . which would mean that I'm only 4 minutes late at that point . . . but somehow it's 10 am when I get there.

So I'm dressed ridiculously . . . and two hours late . . . and no one seems all that winged out about it, except me. And when I walk into my room, there are only adults, no kids. And all the adults want to know seemingly obvious things about lettering. And at the end of class, the personnel director comes up and says, "I don't know why they didn't call anyone . . . they really should have called you."

And I woke up in a "I'm late" panic.

Maybe it's the vampire time.

Tuesday, December 25, 2007

But All I Wanted was My Two Front Teeth

Yeah, I had to sing that song solo in fourth grade.

Diamond earrings.

I got diamond earrings . . . and you know that thing with girls and diamonds. I think they will live in my second set of holes.

I also got a roomba . . . which will mean that the crazy little robot will yell at me about clothes being on the floor. My brothers love them, the little robots, but my brothers also like to think about algorithms in their spare time. I do not. There will be little watching of the roomba for entertainment. But others are welcome to come over and watch it, if that is your thing. I hear they like attention.

I got a USB turntable, which means I have to buy a new computer . . . but still really exciting. I left it with my father, so he could play with it. He has mounds more vinyl than I have. But now I can take the B-sides off the Bela Lugosi glow-in-the-dark picture disk. So one of my life goals.

It was a very magnet Christmas, so now people can come over and comment that my family is all wearing matching shirts. Because my mother made magnets with family pictures. And calendars with family pictures.

My mother made me socks (yay, new socks!) and a felted purse. And due to my recent felting experience, that much have been a bitch to make. She made me some wrist warmers because I think it annoys her when I put my thumbs through my sweatshirt sleeves. Got a set of knitting needles that you can make any size by adding parts. "For knitting emergencies", which I do have on occasion, believe it or not.

Oh and that brings us to the silliness of Christmas Eve. My brother set up a webcam and my sister IMed us through the whole thing. So the Crabbypants Christmas was streaming live. Sorry, I didn't tell anyone. So my sister would send comments, like "Who has a knitting emergency" and there would be that little be-boop noise while you were opening your presents. And thankfully, we did not record the whole thing. Because no one wants to watch that on youtube.

Z really liked all his presents and was busy once he opened the legos. We really should have him open the legos first. He was very excited with his "ipod" (My sister and I got him a shuffle, which isn't really an ipod, but he seems to think so . . . ) and very happy with the wooden artist dummies.

Let's see, my father got me a bunch of tools that he got on clearance at Target. And a sink snake, which I may use today on the bathroom sink.

And I got an alarm clock that projects the time on the ceiling. And resets itself automatically. And will give me the phase of the moon, should I need it. Now I don't have to wear my watch to bed (I can't see farther than my wrist without my glasses on or contacts in). I got a bunch of other stuff but this entry seems rather long. It was the year of the glass nail file, so I can kill someone in a pinch.

Oh, and I got cookies and a mixed "tape" and bad cupcake magnets (cupcakes smoking . . . because my sister says I make bad cupcakes, very clever) -- so there's the rest of the magnet xmas comment -- and a coffin purse. Yes, a coffin purse. So perfect.

So great Christmas. All liked their gifts, which is somehow more important to me. My whole family is now organizing their ipods . . . except for my father, who got display shelves.

Maybe I'll go program the damn robot.

Sunday, December 23, 2007

It Doesn't Stop Being Funny

The sisters . . . with their beavers.

My brother keeps making Chairman Mao jokes about my hat, but I didn't have power at my house this morning . . . so there was no way to blow dry. In addition to no heat. So I got ready really quick . . .

My sister complained about not being "photo ready" but this is what we look like. Notice that I have a huge head compared to my sisters. And we have opposing dimples.

And beavers. We have beavers. My brother refuses to say beaver, which is extra fun . . . during presents when I can hand Mere's to him and say "Here. Hold Mere's beaver."

Way too much fun for $5.99 x 2.

Saturday, December 22, 2007

Stuffed Beavers. Yah. That's What I Said.

My sister and I participated in the full contact sport that is shopping on the last Saturday before Christmas.

And we bought beavers. Stuffed ones.

We did IKEA first ("You Crabbypants . . . you love the IKEA") and despite the crowd of people pushing against the seat belt like barricades and pining "open, open, open" it wasn't as bad as I expected. We were eating breakfast watching them. And as that crowd raced through the store, we strolled leisurely to what we wanted to look at . . . I'm an IKEA savant, so I can always find the shortest route through the maze. Kinda like a rat in a cocaine experiment. (look! those rats go faster!) Bought some very heavy things for Mr. Crabbypants, which I did not put together. I figure it will be like legos for grownups on Christmas morning.

And that is where we come to the beavers. My sister and I had been discussing the stuffed bugs, with big zipper mouths, that were on sale. And what we would store in them. And what we could store in them. Next to the bugs were a surplus of beaver stuffed animals. Which led to much speculation on why in the world someone would design a stuffed beaver . . . knowing what the word beaver also meant in slang. We figured it was a Swedish thing, somehow someone thought it would be a great idea to sell stuffed beavers in America. After joking about it for probably too long, we decided to purchase a beaver each. (I'm sure there will be pictures tomorrow) (the girls and their beavers)

Now there is discussion about how they might become travel beavers . . . coming with us on trips to be photographed in different locales.

They were on sale. And they seem to have a lot of them, should anyone else want, desire or need a beaver. (Gosh, that is fun to say!) They are, however, noticeably absent on the IKEA website.

We then went to Ferndale, Royal Oak and Somerset, in the search for the sister-in-law present. Somerset was crazy, but only because everyone in the world wanted to valet. I found a spot right next to the door. And there was only a little elbowing and only one SUV sized stroller incident. Well, two . . . but who's counting? It's the holidays.

Still slave elfing tomorrow . . . have some things to finish. The girls received their sock monkeys on Friday, but I failed to take pictures before I handed them out. Perhaps because I was pretty much sewing them seconds before I gave them to people. They did turn out cool though.

More shopping tomorrow too. And have to wrap the world. And take a picture of my sister with her beaver.

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Shameless Plugging

Just added the link to my former student's photo blog . . . feel free to hire him for things: weddings, baby pictures, pet portraits, and whatever. He's incredibly talented and I was very fortunate to have him as a student. Still more fortunate that he keeps in touch.

Not that we ever have favorites, but if we did . . . N. would be one. I have tremendous respect for him as a person. Recruited him for yearbook, back in the day. (We talked about how he is old enough to drink legally now . . . God, I'm ancient.) His senior year was an apex for me . . . dinosaur throwing and a fun crew that worked really hard. They were all really great kids.

And now I look at the work on his website . . . sniff . . . I remember when he bought his first camera. The Canon. His first football game and telling him to roll around in the dirt. Actually, I never had to tell N. much. Always researched it on his own. And he will make a damn fine National Geographic photographer someday, if that is what he wants to do.

But really. Look at it. Nick's photo site on the right.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Good Enough for the Felt We Go With

I'm playing phone tag with my sister . . . and ignoring the yearbook. My sister wants absolution for missing Christmas and abandoning me with my parents. I think. (Turns out she wanted shoes sizes of other family members)

Not going so well on the slave elf front . . . finished the scrap stripey hat and have hopefully found a "quick" pattern for the family boys. Keep forgetting that Z. is into brown, so now have to go find brown yarn, instead of the deep plum yarn that I am currently working with. And I have all those sock monkeys. Did get some stuff felted last night. Felting? Ziploc bag, hot water and soap . . . to basically shrink some wool (in this case, alpaca actually) . . . and THREE hours later (several messy ziploc bag explosions later also) I decided that the things must be done.

My father often says "Good enough for the girls we go with . . . " and yeah, with that project, they are . . . good enough for the girls.

So toiling away. Must find a short cute project for school . . . cheap would be good also. Just picture me chained to a bench with curved shoes, tights and a green hat with a jingle bell. Arrgh, I hate the jingling.

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

Chained to a Candy Cane Post

I have to knit like a slave elf this weekend.

Just saying.

Freakin' presents don't make themselves.

So I was making cookies and having a conversation with God

So I was making cookies and having a conversation with the higher power which, despite being very lapsed Methodist, I do every so often.

Hands covered in chocolate cookie dough goo and powder sugar . . .

"So being sad is a choice, right? Just a choice. I could just choose not to be sad."

And I thought of all of those posters that you see in middle school. The posters that I hate. The posters that say "attitude is everything" or "positive thinking zone". I'd much rather see a Rauschenberg painting or something. Perhaps some squares by Hofmann.

But I am playing with the Zen idea of controlling your obsessions and thoughts. Controlling your thinking. Because they are just thoughts. Not reality. And therefore I can choose.

And the cookies are pretty good. And the movie Juno was fabulous.

Monday, December 10, 2007

Just Like the BAD Cupcakes and Penguin Aprons

Finished another hat today . . . I may just get the picture up this time. Now just two more to go, plus a bunch of phone holders.

Want to make cookies for some reason. Maybe just to her Mere complain? There was a penguin apron that I almost got her for Xmas, except that I'm getting her something else for Xmas and haven't figured out anyone else, so it doesn't seem fair to have two gifts for the Mere. But I thought it would be a hoot to wear with the old people. It's at Anthropologie, Mere. Get it now. It's totally worth forty bucks for the old people to think you are adorable in your penguin apron.

So I'm going to make cookies. Mostly because I dragged this poor boy (man?) through a Borders to show him "The Cooky Book" which was a staple of my childhood. He was not impressed and a bit scared as they have not changed a thing since the day it was first published, in 1963. I think Chocolate Crinkles. But I have to get some vegetable oil. I want to make snickerdoodles too, but will save that for the weekend.

And I totally bitch and moan too much . . . why can't I just let things happen? When they want to happen. Working on that.

Friday, December 07, 2007

Not Very Bloggy

It's the start of a new trimester at work . . . and I just haven't felt very bloggy. Sorry.

There is plenty to talk about but I just haven't been writing it down . . . or as E2 keeps pointing out, if I would just stop giving this address out, well, then I could talk about people.

I'm fine. I feel a cold coming on. There are multiple car issues but not bad ones. I'm having a money panic about the Christmas/new car combination and am thinking about just saying "cash" if anyone asks me what I want. But I've always lived on the edge . . . and I don't really HAVE to finance it over 36 months. I just want to.

I have been incredibly under motivated about selling the truck and have just looked on the Auto Trader website . . . finally. It will cost over fifty bucks for an ad. Oh, and I have a credit card that is paid down (perfect for Xmas) and I KNOW I put it in a safe place so I wouldn't use it on stupid stuff, like itunes impulse buying. And now I can't find it. And I'm wondering if I could just pay my father a 100 bucks to sell my truck instead of paying the auto trader people. And I have to get my tie rod fixed on the skunk (which has come back from the dead -- resurrection!)

So list:
Clean the truck, tape up the signs and put it somewhere visible. Do it.
Start the list for Xmas. Know what I'm going to get Mere and that's it. That means I still have Princess, M2, E2, Z, Mom, Mr. Crabbypants (who is soooo hard to shop for), Dave, S., J and M, and a little thing for bop bop. M1 is done too. Maybe I should dig through my gift drawer. Maybe I already have gifts for these people.
Clean house.
Do something about crap in the dining room and office. So I can have people over and live like a normal person. And find shit. I need to shred all this evening. But I know I will sleep instead.

So yeah, my life has been thankfully unexciting. Work, Pilates, sleep, work, pilates. Good Stuff.

Sunday, December 02, 2007

Friendbox

How many times? What is it that I need to learn from all of this?

And I know the answer is patience . . .

Always the flicker of possibility. But just a flicker. And I am always watching for it.

I need to not look.

The best thing now is that I do not see it as rejection. I can truly say that. I would have in the past. It would have been all about me and what I didn't have. I would have taken it personally. But it is not about me.

The stars did not align. They could have . . . but they didn't. Perhaps compatible legos. Just didn't click. And I now see how lucky one is to be in the friendbox, to have a friendbox. Because I do try to be a good friend.

So no more watching. No more lights dancing just out of reach. I had a good day, with someone that could be a friend. And that is how I need to see things.

Saturday, December 01, 2007

Indecisive

Red sparkley glasses? or Black sparkley glasses?


So hard to decide.