Showing posts with label 100 things. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 100 things. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
+100 things that make me happy+ #24: falling asleep sitting up with the light on and a book in my hand, then waking in the night to find the light off and the book put aside for me
the title to this post pretty much explains it all.*
a few years back, i had a massive ear infection. and i mean massive; i could not hear out of my right ear for a good five months total. the infection culminated the morning of christmas eve, forcing me to spend the wee hours of the morning crying in pain in the urgent care of the local doctor's office.**
two hours and a couple hundred dollars in time and prescriptions later, i was back home, medicated and packing up little chinese-food boxes with cookies for the coworkers i was, unfortunately, bailing on that day.*** i rested for a bit, then headed out with the guy and kids to drop off the boxes, apologize profusely for being ill, and spend the evening nodding off in a corner at the guy's parents' house.
that night, we sat in bed reading, the red-shaded vintage lamp behind the bed making everything look warm and cozy, and the down comforter actually making it warm and cozy. the nodding continued in earnest, evolving into drowsing, and ending with me falling asleep sitting up with my book splayed in my lap.
later, i woke up to a dark room and soft snoring. my book was set aside. i'd been tended to in my sleep. at a time when i was already feeling vulnerable and crappy, it was immensely comforting--a small, lovely gesture of affection.
*unlike clarissa. i liked the show and all, but really, she explained absolutely nothing.
**pro-tip: screaming and clutching your head gets you to the head of the line every. time.
***retail work = usually working shitty days of the year and having to pay for doctor's visits and prescriptions out of pocket. SCORE!
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
+100 things that make me happy+ #23: quail
summer in california means many things to many people. in the past it has meant to me that i had one more stupid season to get through before autumn finally arrived, and i could wear sweaters and eat squash again. living in the mountains has toned down my dislike for summer, and i have come to more fully embrace the long days and barbequed foods and cold beverages that i used to really not care that much about.
summer in california also means that the local wildlife is out in full force. frogs, cicadas, owls, mockingbirds, coyotes--they're a constant nightly reminder that 27 hours of daylight is not nearly enough, and will screech in protest all night long. luckily for me, i wear earplugs to sleep.
my all-time favorite summer "visitor" is also a bit noisy, but it's an adorable noise. the california quail makes a poppy sort of whooping sound as it scratches through the brush bordering our property. they like to gather there in the mornings and late afternoons, and i like to try and get as close as possible without scaring them away. i unfortunately suck at it, so i have to make do with glimpses of blurred feet scrambling into the christmas tree farm next door and sightings down the driveway.
a baby quail is called a walnut. take a moment to fully absorb that fact, i'll wait.
ok, you good now? no? me neither. i still can't get over the fact that the offspring of one of the cutest birds ever is called a freaking walnut. a group of quail is called a covey*. so you can have a covey of walnuts. i don't even know what to do with myself in situations like this.
JUST LOOK AT THIS:
LOOK AT THAT FACE.
I'M DONE.
*thanks, covey run vineyards!
summer in california also means that the local wildlife is out in full force. frogs, cicadas, owls, mockingbirds, coyotes--they're a constant nightly reminder that 27 hours of daylight is not nearly enough, and will screech in protest all night long. luckily for me, i wear earplugs to sleep.
my all-time favorite summer "visitor" is also a bit noisy, but it's an adorable noise. the california quail makes a poppy sort of whooping sound as it scratches through the brush bordering our property. they like to gather there in the mornings and late afternoons, and i like to try and get as close as possible without scaring them away. i unfortunately suck at it, so i have to make do with glimpses of blurred feet scrambling into the christmas tree farm next door and sightings down the driveway.
a baby quail is called a walnut. take a moment to fully absorb that fact, i'll wait.
ok, you good now? no? me neither. i still can't get over the fact that the offspring of one of the cutest birds ever is called a freaking walnut. a group of quail is called a covey*. so you can have a covey of walnuts. i don't even know what to do with myself in situations like this.
JUST LOOK AT THIS:
LOOK AT THAT FACE.
I'M DONE.
*thanks, covey run vineyards!
Sunday, March 4, 2012
+100 things that make me happy+ #22: chocolate, all chocolate (except mexican chocolate that tastes like kraft cheese)
i don't really need to elaborate on this one, right? how about a billion pictures? yeah, i like that idea, too.
http://www.thegalleygourmet.net/2012/03/sunday-dinner_18.html
http://www.the-girl-who-ate-everything.com/2012/03/chocolate-covered-bacon.html
http://mehanskitchen.blogspot.com/2012/03/double-chocolate-loaf.html
http://thenovicehousewife.wordpress.com/2012/03/25/chocolate-ice-cream-philadelphia-style/
http://www.recipegirl.com/2012/03/28/malted-dark-chocolate-chip-cookies/
http://topwithcinnamon.blogspot.com/2012/03/chocolate-beetroot-hi-hat-mini-cupcakes.html
http://unegaminedanslacuisine.com/2012/03/aries-chocolate-sables.html
http://smittenkitchen.com/2006/11/ganached-guinness-goodness/
http://www.yammiesnoshery.com/2012/04/chocolate-caramel-creme-puffs.html
http://www.pocketfulofchocolate.com/2012/04/chocolate-cupcakes.html
and, just to make it healthier, chocolate-rubbed chicken with blueberry chocolate sauce.
http://www.thegalleygourmet.net/2012/03/sunday-dinner_18.html
http://www.the-girl-who-ate-everything.com/2012/03/chocolate-covered-bacon.html
http://mehanskitchen.blogspot.com/2012/03/double-chocolate-loaf.html
http://thenovicehousewife.wordpress.com/2012/03/25/chocolate-ice-cream-philadelphia-style/
http://www.recipegirl.com/2012/03/28/malted-dark-chocolate-chip-cookies/
http://topwithcinnamon.blogspot.com/2012/03/chocolate-beetroot-hi-hat-mini-cupcakes.html
http://unegaminedanslacuisine.com/2012/03/aries-chocolate-sables.html
http://smittenkitchen.com/2006/11/ganached-guinness-goodness/
http://www.yammiesnoshery.com/2012/04/chocolate-caramel-creme-puffs.html
http://www.pocketfulofchocolate.com/2012/04/chocolate-cupcakes.html
and, just to make it healthier, chocolate-rubbed chicken with blueberry chocolate sauce.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
+100 things that make me happy+ #21: warm feet
as i mentioned in my last post, i lack a common element most humans and, well, vertebrates in general, share: blood. in its place runs sweet, sweet liquid helium*, which makes me very popular at beach parties on the sun**.
the unfortunate side effect of this condition is that my time spent on earth, with its normal temperatures, usually renders my extremities red and black with tepidity-bite, which makes for a sad, cold, leprous panda.
seriously, though, i get cold really easily, and it makes me physically uncomfortable and unhappy. so when i do have the foresight to actually add a couple extra layers before... anything, i'm always amazed at how much happier i am based on a few degrees. in fact, i have terrible trouble sleeping when my feet, specifically, aren't warm. i will toss and turn all. freaking. night. if those buggers aren't cradled snugly in fluffy cotton or chenille sheathes. and driving first thing in the morning, before my engine's warmed up and i have a nice draft blowing directly on my shoes? yeah, fuck that. i am all about slipper socks and a heating pad. word.
*Helium is the most difficult of all gases to liquefy and is impossible to solidify at atmospheric pressure. These properties make liquid helium extremely useful as a refrigerant and for experimental work in producing and measuring temperatures close to absolute zero. Liquid helium can be cooled almost to absolute zero at normal pressure by rapid removal of the vapor above the liquid. At a temperature slightly above absolute zero, it is transformed into helium II, also called superfluid helium, a liquid with unique physical properties. It has no freezing point, and its viscosity is apparently zero; it passes readily through minute cracks and pores and will even creep up the sides and over the lip of a container. Helium-3, the lighter helium isotope of mass 3, which has an even lower boiling point than ordinary helium, exhibits markedly different properties when liquefied. See Superfluidity.
**you didn't know the sun was known for its excellent beaches? god you're behind. READ A BOOK.
the unfortunate side effect of this condition is that my time spent on earth, with its normal temperatures, usually renders my extremities red and black with tepidity-bite, which makes for a sad, cold, leprous panda.
seriously, though, i get cold really easily, and it makes me physically uncomfortable and unhappy. so when i do have the foresight to actually add a couple extra layers before... anything, i'm always amazed at how much happier i am based on a few degrees. in fact, i have terrible trouble sleeping when my feet, specifically, aren't warm. i will toss and turn all. freaking. night. if those buggers aren't cradled snugly in fluffy cotton or chenille sheathes. and driving first thing in the morning, before my engine's warmed up and i have a nice draft blowing directly on my shoes? yeah, fuck that. i am all about slipper socks and a heating pad. word.
*Helium is the most difficult of all gases to liquefy and is impossible to solidify at atmospheric pressure. These properties make liquid helium extremely useful as a refrigerant and for experimental work in producing and measuring temperatures close to absolute zero. Liquid helium can be cooled almost to absolute zero at normal pressure by rapid removal of the vapor above the liquid. At a temperature slightly above absolute zero, it is transformed into helium II, also called superfluid helium, a liquid with unique physical properties. It has no freezing point, and its viscosity is apparently zero; it passes readily through minute cracks and pores and will even creep up the sides and over the lip of a container. Helium-3, the lighter helium isotope of mass 3, which has an even lower boiling point than ordinary helium, exhibits markedly different properties when liquefied. See Superfluidity.
**you didn't know the sun was known for its excellent beaches? god you're behind. READ A BOOK.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
+100 things that make me happy+ #20: cinnamon
i don't think i need to go too far into this one. find me a person who doesn't like cinnamon--besides some poor, sad, god-forsaken soul that somehow happens to be allergic to it*--and i'll show you the true terrorists. because these are the heartless, merciless bastards we need to fear.
think of all the things cinnamon goes into. seriously, take a minute, i'll wait for you. and whilst waiting, i'll make a list, and then we can compare it and what you come up with, and giggle, and then go eat all the things on the list.
- cinnamon buns (they have cinnamon IN THE NAME)
- snickerdoodles
- mexican hot chocolate
- bread pudding
- banana bread
- oatmeal
- lattes (sprinkled gaily and liberally)
- oatmeal cookies (obviously in a different class than plain oatmeal, since, you know, you have to bake them)
- streusel topping (the crumbly joy and wonder that tops coffee cake. which reminds me...)
- coffee cake
i think that's a good start for a list. and that's just edible things. that doesn't include sexy-time lotions, creams, shampoos, plumping lip glosses, deodorizing sprays, glade** plug-ins, and just sprinkling it directly into your carpet for the hell of it.
i also define the scent of cinnamon as the smell of warm. you smell it and you just feel every nerve ending blossoming to attention, and heat. such things are of great importance to me, because i have liquid nitrogen flowing in my veins instead of blood, and am therefore always a nice, chilled -8°F****.
i have yet to find a recipe that can't be improved by the addition of cinnamon. cookies? duh. cake? dur-hoy. whipped cream? no-brainer. guacamole? you bet your sweet bippy*****. chicken? please stop insulting me, i have done nothing to deserve it. cinnamon, however, by existing, has done everything to deserve all the praise and worship in the world. therefore, i hereby pronounce my ever-lasting devotion to the church of our lord cinnamon.
think about my god next time you chomp down on a stale eucharist. yeah, that's what i thought.
*and even they wouldn't really count, since i'm sure they'd love it if they could have it, and are therefore even more poor and sad and god-forsaken. why you gotta hate, creator?
**not a shameless plug, just the first company that came to mind. i make no money here.***
***unless you wanna give me some. that'd be sweet.
****i'm great at summer barbeques.
*****what even IS that?
think of all the things cinnamon goes into. seriously, take a minute, i'll wait for you. and whilst waiting, i'll make a list, and then we can compare it and what you come up with, and giggle, and then go eat all the things on the list.
- cinnamon buns (they have cinnamon IN THE NAME)
- snickerdoodles
- mexican hot chocolate
- bread pudding
- banana bread
- oatmeal
- lattes (sprinkled gaily and liberally)
- oatmeal cookies (obviously in a different class than plain oatmeal, since, you know, you have to bake them)
- streusel topping (the crumbly joy and wonder that tops coffee cake. which reminds me...)
- coffee cake
i think that's a good start for a list. and that's just edible things. that doesn't include sexy-time lotions, creams, shampoos, plumping lip glosses, deodorizing sprays, glade** plug-ins, and just sprinkling it directly into your carpet for the hell of it.
i also define the scent of cinnamon as the smell of warm. you smell it and you just feel every nerve ending blossoming to attention, and heat. such things are of great importance to me, because i have liquid nitrogen flowing in my veins instead of blood, and am therefore always a nice, chilled -8°F****.
i have yet to find a recipe that can't be improved by the addition of cinnamon. cookies? duh. cake? dur-hoy. whipped cream? no-brainer. guacamole? you bet your sweet bippy*****. chicken? please stop insulting me, i have done nothing to deserve it. cinnamon, however, by existing, has done everything to deserve all the praise and worship in the world. therefore, i hereby pronounce my ever-lasting devotion to the church of our lord cinnamon.
think about my god next time you chomp down on a stale eucharist. yeah, that's what i thought.
*and even they wouldn't really count, since i'm sure they'd love it if they could have it, and are therefore even more poor and sad and god-forsaken. why you gotta hate, creator?
**not a shameless plug, just the first company that came to mind. i make no money here.***
***unless you wanna give me some. that'd be sweet.
****i'm great at summer barbeques.
*****what even IS that?
+100 things that make me happy+ #19: when my car starts in the morning/afternoon/evening/ever
#19's place on this list is a bit tricky, seeing as how it's more a bittersweet pleasure/relief rather than something that truly makes me happy. what would make me really happy is having a car where starting up wasn't even an issue. but THAT'S NOT MY LIFE, so, yes.
it's not even my car. it's my father's car, a 1997 dark green GMC jimmy SUV*. it's a fairly amazing car. and by amazing, i mean it's amazing how the aesthetic components are absolute shit but the inside seems to run on kitten dreams and unicorn glitter as opposed to water and oil.
as of now, the following are broken:
- both rear view mirrors (the driver's side fell off whilst i was driving; i clipped the passenger side trying to maneuver into the bitch spot at my old work).
- the driver's side visor (the mirror/lights sort of fell off. they're held in with duct tape now, kind of) and the passenger side visor (the cover fell off, and has to be replaced each time it's used or the lights won't turn off and the battery will run down).
- the passenger window.
- the gas gauge.
- the air conditioning.
- the spring in the driver's side door, that keeps the door open instead of slamming shut on your hand when you're already pissed off because you ran out of gas on the highway because the gas gauge doesn't work.
- one of the cigarette lighters (not that i care, since i don't smoke and there are two more located directly beneath it, but i'm trying to be thorough). though it's only fair to mention that it's broken because there's a piece of AC adapter stuck in it.
why am i happy again?
oh, right, because it still manages to start every day. this is of especial importance to me because i live near the top of a mountain with no public transit services, where pizza delivery fears to tread and bicycles are only for the super bad-asses who actually think neon lycra is acceptable dinner attire. my options, if i were car-less, would consist of:
a. walking... 17 miles. 27.36 kilometers******. 1,077,120 inches. ok, inches will always suck unless you're a squirrel, but still. you get what i'm saying.
b. the aforementioned bicycling. the only neon i own is a hot pink sweatshirt with engrish splattered all over it like a fine béchamel sauce*******(********).
c. making friends in my area and constantly hitching rides. HA. YEAH. YEAH, THAT'S HAPPENING. yeah. i'll get right on that. that's a post all on its own right there.
so yes, while, in more normal situations, #19 might seem like a crappy thing to be happy about it, the reality is that i have a vehicle that, currently, gets me from point a to point b with a minimal amount of fuss*********.
*and yes, it was used. we needed a vehicle large enough to move around the guns.**
**that makes it sound a little too bad ass, like we bury bodies in the forest or something. it was more like archery equipment.***
***though killing someone with a bow is rather impressive.****
****a recurve or long bow, that is. killing someone with a compound bow is like having a person walk up to you, take your hand, wrap it around the knife, then make you stab them a few times until they're dead.*****
*****i use a compound. :(
******do you say KEE-low-mee-turs or kee-LOM-eh-turs? i'm on the first-syllable-stress front, because i know no one who says mee-LIM-eh-turs or de-CAM-eh-turs. and if i did, i would punch them.
*******you like that? i thought it was a classy touch.
********i love asterisks. but i think it might be time to stop now.
*********by minimal, i mean the occasional running out of gas and having to call people to help me. yeah, #19 basically sucks. oh well.
it's not even my car. it's my father's car, a 1997 dark green GMC jimmy SUV*. it's a fairly amazing car. and by amazing, i mean it's amazing how the aesthetic components are absolute shit but the inside seems to run on kitten dreams and unicorn glitter as opposed to water and oil.
as of now, the following are broken:
- both rear view mirrors (the driver's side fell off whilst i was driving; i clipped the passenger side trying to maneuver into the bitch spot at my old work).
- the driver's side visor (the mirror/lights sort of fell off. they're held in with duct tape now, kind of) and the passenger side visor (the cover fell off, and has to be replaced each time it's used or the lights won't turn off and the battery will run down).
- the passenger window.
- the gas gauge.
- the air conditioning.
- the spring in the driver's side door, that keeps the door open instead of slamming shut on your hand when you're already pissed off because you ran out of gas on the highway because the gas gauge doesn't work.
- one of the cigarette lighters (not that i care, since i don't smoke and there are two more located directly beneath it, but i'm trying to be thorough). though it's only fair to mention that it's broken because there's a piece of AC adapter stuck in it.
why am i happy again?
oh, right, because it still manages to start every day. this is of especial importance to me because i live near the top of a mountain with no public transit services, where pizza delivery fears to tread and bicycles are only for the super bad-asses who actually think neon lycra is acceptable dinner attire. my options, if i were car-less, would consist of:
a. walking... 17 miles. 27.36 kilometers******. 1,077,120 inches. ok, inches will always suck unless you're a squirrel, but still. you get what i'm saying.
b. the aforementioned bicycling. the only neon i own is a hot pink sweatshirt with engrish splattered all over it like a fine béchamel sauce*******(********).
c. making friends in my area and constantly hitching rides. HA. YEAH. YEAH, THAT'S HAPPENING. yeah. i'll get right on that. that's a post all on its own right there.
so yes, while, in more normal situations, #19 might seem like a crappy thing to be happy about it, the reality is that i have a vehicle that, currently, gets me from point a to point b with a minimal amount of fuss*********.
*and yes, it was used. we needed a vehicle large enough to move around the guns.**
**that makes it sound a little too bad ass, like we bury bodies in the forest or something. it was more like archery equipment.***
***though killing someone with a bow is rather impressive.****
****a recurve or long bow, that is. killing someone with a compound bow is like having a person walk up to you, take your hand, wrap it around the knife, then make you stab them a few times until they're dead.*****
*****i use a compound. :(
******do you say KEE-low-mee-turs or kee-LOM-eh-turs? i'm on the first-syllable-stress front, because i know no one who says mee-LIM-eh-turs or de-CAM-eh-turs. and if i did, i would punch them.
*******you like that? i thought it was a classy touch.
********i love asterisks. but i think it might be time to stop now.
*********by minimal, i mean the occasional running out of gas and having to call people to help me. yeah, #19 basically sucks. oh well.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
+100 things that make me happy+ #18: buying expensive makeup cheap online
i started wearing makeup seriously in middle school. before it was discovered by the rest of the student body that i was a complete weirdo, there was a day, at the beginning of the school year, where i found myself in the locker room applying concealer to my tiny, prepubescent blemishes, before taking school photos.*
"what's that?" one of the girls asked.
"it's this stuff, you put it on your face and it makes spots and acne go away." i wasn't yet totally hep to the lingo.
"can i try some?"
i handed the tube over to the girl who had skin at least two shades darker than mine, and we all learned that sometimes, skin color really does matter.
over the years, i've tried a lot of freaking makeup. mostly drug store stuff, the usual brands, cover girl, maybelline; revlon if i had some extra money and was feeling fancy. for the longest time, i operated under the belief that the cheap stuff was just as good as the expensive stuff, and no way was i going to spend over ten dollars on an eyeliner pencil. and then i continued to live my life feeling uncomfortable about how my concealer cracked by mid-day, and totally everyone was staring at it thinking i was some kind of leper. this could easily spiral into a murky miasma post about self-confidence and body image and blah blah blah, and i'd rather it didn't, because then it would spoil the happy ending, which is that the expensive stuff is better, and just because it's expensive doesn't mean you have to spend all your money on it. see? happy.
actually, the first real fancy-pants makeup item i ever purchased was for full price, and wasn't all that great (though it smelled fantastic):
this claims to be something like a primer/mattifier, to be worn under or over your makeup, or by itself. i think that last part only works if you have airbrushed skin to begin with, because i personally don't have the kind of complexion that can walk around all naked-like. putting it on over my makeup just kind of smeared things around, and underneath it provided a negligible difference; that kind of turned me off of fancy makeup, and benefit as a brand, for a while.
luckily, i gave them another shot. however, i wasn't going to get sucked in this time. no ma'am, this time, i went to sephora and poked and smeared and dusted and prodded, wrote all my findings down in my little notepad, and hightailed it back home to ebay, where i went crazy procuring powders and creams for half of what they cost in stores.
of course, there are drawbacks to buying anything on ebay. i check the seller's ratings beforehand, and if there's even a single instance of someone saying that a product was fraudulent--even if it's something completely different from what i'm buying, and oh they have all these positives--i'm gone. regular makeup is enough chemistry for me already, i have no desire to apply ingredients that i can't even verify to my face, near my eyes and mucus membranes and mouth. it's worked pretty well thus far; i believe i've only been fleeced once, and i'm not even 100% about that.
*i believe my first sixth grade school photo is the last school picture in which you'll find me smiling with any sincerity.
"what's that?" one of the girls asked.
"it's this stuff, you put it on your face and it makes spots and acne go away." i wasn't yet totally hep to the lingo.
"can i try some?"
i handed the tube over to the girl who had skin at least two shades darker than mine, and we all learned that sometimes, skin color really does matter.
over the years, i've tried a lot of freaking makeup. mostly drug store stuff, the usual brands, cover girl, maybelline; revlon if i had some extra money and was feeling fancy. for the longest time, i operated under the belief that the cheap stuff was just as good as the expensive stuff, and no way was i going to spend over ten dollars on an eyeliner pencil. and then i continued to live my life feeling uncomfortable about how my concealer cracked by mid-day, and totally everyone was staring at it thinking i was some kind of leper. this could easily spiral into a murky miasma post about self-confidence and body image and blah blah blah, and i'd rather it didn't, because then it would spoil the happy ending, which is that the expensive stuff is better, and just because it's expensive doesn't mean you have to spend all your money on it. see? happy.
actually, the first real fancy-pants makeup item i ever purchased was for full price, and wasn't all that great (though it smelled fantastic):
this claims to be something like a primer/mattifier, to be worn under or over your makeup, or by itself. i think that last part only works if you have airbrushed skin to begin with, because i personally don't have the kind of complexion that can walk around all naked-like. putting it on over my makeup just kind of smeared things around, and underneath it provided a negligible difference; that kind of turned me off of fancy makeup, and benefit as a brand, for a while.
luckily, i gave them another shot. however, i wasn't going to get sucked in this time. no ma'am, this time, i went to sephora and poked and smeared and dusted and prodded, wrote all my findings down in my little notepad, and hightailed it back home to ebay, where i went crazy procuring powders and creams for half of what they cost in stores.
of course, there are drawbacks to buying anything on ebay. i check the seller's ratings beforehand, and if there's even a single instance of someone saying that a product was fraudulent--even if it's something completely different from what i'm buying, and oh they have all these positives--i'm gone. regular makeup is enough chemistry for me already, i have no desire to apply ingredients that i can't even verify to my face, near my eyes and mucus membranes and mouth. it's worked pretty well thus far; i believe i've only been fleeced once, and i'm not even 100% about that.
*i believe my first sixth grade school photo is the last school picture in which you'll find me smiling with any sincerity.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
+100 things that make me happy+ #17: pinup, erotic, and boudoir photography
name me a person in this world who hasn't questioned their sexuality, and i will retort with "shut up."
it's an odd way to start a blog post, and also semi-inaccurate: i am wired for wiener. which i guess makes my liking of nudie photography more confusing. girls are just... they are pretty to look at. they're soft and curvy and they get all the cool underwear and hair and makeup and they're just fun. period. boys, on the other hand, look... awkward. or cheesy. or disconcerting.
however, if having a tumblr account has taught me anything, it's that kids love their harry potter. er, wait, no. it's taught me that cameron is better than damien. wait, no, who? shit. what has tumblr taught me?
OH YEAH, ok. it's taught me that it's ok to find things aesthetically pleasing and it doesn't make you a perv. so here i am, liz, 29, los gatos, saying: i like to look at girls.
hurray!
(a caveat: the following blogs may or may not contain some "doing". you know, that kind of doing)
i follow a few tumblrs that deal primarily with the aforementioned photography genres:
http://zeeaugusto.tumblr.com/
http://rainy-nightss.tumblr.com/ (i don't know if ghostery is screwing with the layout or if i'm blind or if the person who runs this tumblr just forgot, but i can't find the navigation links on this one. if it truly appeals to you, check out the archive)
http://libraryvixen.tumblr.com/ this one is especially good, it's a favorite of mine and my guy.
and not a tumblr, but definitely a site everyone should check out for a delightful mix of poetry and pinup: poetic pinup, featuring the lovely and talented harlean carpenter.
so, yeah. now to just get the fuck over my little tiny artistic roadblock (how many years now? seven? eight?) and get back into painting. and not feel like a weirdo whilst doing it.
it's an odd way to start a blog post, and also semi-inaccurate: i am wired for wiener. which i guess makes my liking of nudie photography more confusing. girls are just... they are pretty to look at. they're soft and curvy and they get all the cool underwear and hair and makeup and they're just fun. period. boys, on the other hand, look... awkward. or cheesy. or disconcerting.
however, if having a tumblr account has taught me anything, it's that kids love their harry potter. er, wait, no. it's taught me that cameron is better than damien. wait, no, who? shit. what has tumblr taught me?
OH YEAH, ok. it's taught me that it's ok to find things aesthetically pleasing and it doesn't make you a perv. so here i am, liz, 29, los gatos, saying: i like to look at girls.
hurray!
(a caveat: the following blogs may or may not contain some "doing". you know, that kind of doing)
i follow a few tumblrs that deal primarily with the aforementioned photography genres:
http://zeeaugusto.tumblr.com/
http://rainy-nightss.tumblr.com/ (i don't know if ghostery is screwing with the layout or if i'm blind or if the person who runs this tumblr just forgot, but i can't find the navigation links on this one. if it truly appeals to you, check out the archive)
http://libraryvixen.tumblr.com/ this one is especially good, it's a favorite of mine and my guy.
and not a tumblr, but definitely a site everyone should check out for a delightful mix of poetry and pinup: poetic pinup, featuring the lovely and talented harlean carpenter.
so, yeah. now to just get the fuck over my little tiny artistic roadblock (how many years now? seven? eight?) and get back into painting. and not feel like a weirdo whilst doing it.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
arrggh: a recap
i have two posts i've been sort of working on. one of them is a 100 things that make me happy post, and the other is my take on why it's ok for children to view violence but not sex. they are, obviously, not mutually exclusive.
i have learned to knit. i can cast on, knit, purl, change colors, and cast off. i'm making a scarf. thank you, sid, for the needles.
i connected two major parts in my book, and now am at a loss. i need to think more.
"book? what book, liz?"
why, the book i'm writing. it's a fantasy/horror. it's fantastic and horrific. i'm terrified to share it with anyone. why? because things in your head hold power. acres and acres of power. that's why depression takes such a deep hold, and illogical fears are illogical, and why therapy is so damn effective. once you talk about the things in your head, they tend to lose most of their power. so what if, upon scribing my characters and story--the people and creatures that have lived in my head for so long, their lives--onto paper, it turns out that they and my work are a waste of time and not nearly as cool as i thought they were when they were all up in my brainmeats?
the healthy attitude would be:
"so what? even if this isn't some major epic that gets published and receives acclaim from lots of people, it's your story, and if you like it, and the people who love you like it and support you, that's what matters. and when it's done, and you're happy with it, you move on to your next project, and do other things with your life."
my attitude:
"FUCK FUCK FUCK."
my ear is infected again. this is the third time in less than a year. it's the same ear as always. see, i can't swim. so when i was younger and in gym class and we had to swim, i would float, with my ears submerged, because everything sounds cool that way.
that led to my first major infection in my right ear, and a loss of some hearing. over the last decade or so, i'd get the occasional infection, in the same ear. then, last year, i got my first sinus infection. in the summer. please imagine that pain and horror, a sinus infection in 90 degree heat, for just a moment.
k, so that introduced disease to a whole new part of my head, a part which is conveniently connected to my ears. and now, every time i get a cold, it goes all up in there, and i have to take antibiotics. but really, three times in a year? so now i'm looking for health insurance that i can afford, so i can see an ENT and get something invasive done, because i'm 99% sure that i have fluid build-up in my eustachian tube that keeps getting reinfected. searching for affordable healthcare is one of the joys of living in my country. it's made all the more entertaining by being a member of the unemployed sector.
why bring up such a touchy topic? i googled "free health line" this morning, and the first page had links to websites in australia, new zealand and canada, boasting about their 24 hour free health help lines. there was a link to an american page with lists of health lines, sure. the general health link had a list of phone numbers. all on the east coast or in the midwest. none of them were 24 hour. i think i need to start a fundraiser.
ok, i think i'm good now. g'night!
i have learned to knit. i can cast on, knit, purl, change colors, and cast off. i'm making a scarf. thank you, sid, for the needles.
i connected two major parts in my book, and now am at a loss. i need to think more.
"book? what book, liz?"
why, the book i'm writing. it's a fantasy/horror. it's fantastic and horrific. i'm terrified to share it with anyone. why? because things in your head hold power. acres and acres of power. that's why depression takes such a deep hold, and illogical fears are illogical, and why therapy is so damn effective. once you talk about the things in your head, they tend to lose most of their power. so what if, upon scribing my characters and story--the people and creatures that have lived in my head for so long, their lives--onto paper, it turns out that they and my work are a waste of time and not nearly as cool as i thought they were when they were all up in my brainmeats?
the healthy attitude would be:
"so what? even if this isn't some major epic that gets published and receives acclaim from lots of people, it's your story, and if you like it, and the people who love you like it and support you, that's what matters. and when it's done, and you're happy with it, you move on to your next project, and do other things with your life."
my attitude:
"FUCK FUCK FUCK."
my ear is infected again. this is the third time in less than a year. it's the same ear as always. see, i can't swim. so when i was younger and in gym class and we had to swim, i would float, with my ears submerged, because everything sounds cool that way.
that led to my first major infection in my right ear, and a loss of some hearing. over the last decade or so, i'd get the occasional infection, in the same ear. then, last year, i got my first sinus infection. in the summer. please imagine that pain and horror, a sinus infection in 90 degree heat, for just a moment.
k, so that introduced disease to a whole new part of my head, a part which is conveniently connected to my ears. and now, every time i get a cold, it goes all up in there, and i have to take antibiotics. but really, three times in a year? so now i'm looking for health insurance that i can afford, so i can see an ENT and get something invasive done, because i'm 99% sure that i have fluid build-up in my eustachian tube that keeps getting reinfected. searching for affordable healthcare is one of the joys of living in my country. it's made all the more entertaining by being a member of the unemployed sector.
why bring up such a touchy topic? i googled "free health line" this morning, and the first page had links to websites in australia, new zealand and canada, boasting about their 24 hour free health help lines. there was a link to an american page with lists of health lines, sure. the general health link had a list of phone numbers. all on the east coast or in the midwest. none of them were 24 hour. i think i need to start a fundraiser.
ok, i think i'm good now. g'night!
Thursday, June 30, 2011
+100 things that make me happy+ #16: cartoons for adults
right now, gangster no. 1 is on tv. before that, it was chitty chitty bang bang. both of these serve to remind me that cartoons are so, so awesome. way more awesome than both of those.
i mean, come on, how can you not love this:
i don't want you to be intimidated... but my high score is 6.
(8/11/11: i haven't touched this because i haven't been inspired. so rather than let it rot and give up completely, i'm just going to list the cartoons i love, and if i have something immediately awesome to say/post about them, i will. if not... then i won't. it's definitely one or the other.)
ugly americans
archer
frisky dingo
metalocalypse
south park
12oz mouse
aqua teen hunger force/unit patrol squad
squidbillies
old school looney tunes
regular show
adventure time
family guy
american dad
superjail
home movies
spongebob squarepants
all of the above are things that i enjoy watching. the end.
i mean, come on, how can you not love this:
i don't want you to be intimidated... but my high score is 6.
(8/11/11: i haven't touched this because i haven't been inspired. so rather than let it rot and give up completely, i'm just going to list the cartoons i love, and if i have something immediately awesome to say/post about them, i will. if not... then i won't. it's definitely one or the other.)
ugly americans
archer
frisky dingo
metalocalypse
south park
12oz mouse
aqua teen hunger force/unit patrol squad
squidbillies
old school looney tunes
regular show
adventure time
family guy
american dad
superjail
home movies
spongebob squarepants
all of the above are things that i enjoy watching. the end.
Monday, June 20, 2011
+100 things that make me happy+ #15: frozen yogurt by the ounce. and by ounce, i mean at least sixteen of them.
summer is sure taking its sweet time arriving here in the bay area. we had one hot day (of course it was the day i had to help move 2,000 motorcycle and scooter tires, duh), and then a bunch of nice moderate days... and then tuesday we had a rain storm. and i do mean storm, we had to turn on the lights at one in the freaking afternoon. it was oppressive.
for the longest time, i was all about rain, and clouds, and wind and gloom and fog and blah blah blah. it set a mood, and you got to bundle up. and seeing as i have atrocious skin on my legs, i didn't have to stress about overheating when i pulled on jeans and pants and flannels every day.
but let me tell ya, ever since moving to the santa cruz mountains, i have been all about summer. i think there might be a correlation between that shift in mood and how much propane to heat the house costs. that and one thing i have always liked about summer was how i could be sitting around at eight-thirty and still see my hand in front of my face, or drive with my headlights off. and now, thanks to fantastic on-going trends, i have a new thing to love about summer:
froyo.
not just tcby, get-a-cone-and-walk-down-the-street-lazy-styles froyo. no, fuck that. that's amateur hour. when i enter a frozen yogurt establishment, i want AT LEAST six different choices of yogurt. at this point, i will take a large squirt of each, trying to keep complimentary flavors grouped and then realizing that that is folly and it's all sugar so just pump the damn yogurt.
there must be a minimum of ten feet of toppings NOT including the fruit. this is important. if i were a better person, i'd bring a tape measure with me (yes, that would make me a better person, it's providing a vital service). the toppings need to be fresh and varied. they need to include cereal and nuts and chocolate and candy and various gelatin-based bits. there should be a sauce bar of some kind, but this is not crucial.
when you finally get to the fruit, it, too, needs to be vibrant. no pansy-ass kiwi and pineapple niblets, please, it's insulting. this is also the section where you will find the brownie and cookie dough bits. if you don't find them there, throw your yogurt on the floor and leave.
there should be a little cooling machine next to the registers. in it is a canister of whipped cream. apply liberally. if you don't find it there, throw your yogurt on the floor and leave.
now to pay. they will weigh your yogurt and charge you by the ounce. if you have less than 16 ounces, throw your yogurt on the floor and leave.
... ha! that was a test! if you have less than 16 ounces, go back to the beginning of the line and add more shit.
your yogurt cup should now look like willy wonka and captain crunch went to a frat party and got hammered and threw up, and weigh as much as the average house cat. if it doesn't, you did it wrong and are now a failure. at yogurt. and that's the worst kind of failure, in my opinion. if, however, your cup meets all the aforementioned criteria, you are now free to sit and orally bask in your accomplishment.
one of these days i need to remember to take a picture of my epic yogurt creations, because i have yet to find a picture online that truly captures the spirit of yogurt-by-the-pound.
the website describes this yogurt as an "incredible frozen yogurt and topping combination". yeah, that's really incredible, if the definition of "incredible" was recently changed to "staying in one color scheme and being lame and boring". because as everyone knows, gummi candy + frozen yogurt = the hard, unappetizing bits swimming in melted yogurt that no one eats because they hurt your teeth.
oh look, someone likes mochi! you know what i like? chicken curry. maybe i should pour some over my yogurt and forsake all other toppings. BORING.
look at this fresh, healthful offering! a little yogurt, some nice chopped fruit, and oh, look out, a little syrup there! they're getting craaaaazy now! i think the only thing this cup needs is a little advice:
YOU DON'T EAT FROZEN YOGURT BY THE OUNCE FOR YOUR HEALTH. PUT SOME DAMN CHOCOLATE IN THAT BITCH.
i quit you, internet, you disgust me. i'll try and take a picture next time.
for the longest time, i was all about rain, and clouds, and wind and gloom and fog and blah blah blah. it set a mood, and you got to bundle up. and seeing as i have atrocious skin on my legs, i didn't have to stress about overheating when i pulled on jeans and pants and flannels every day.
but let me tell ya, ever since moving to the santa cruz mountains, i have been all about summer. i think there might be a correlation between that shift in mood and how much propane to heat the house costs. that and one thing i have always liked about summer was how i could be sitting around at eight-thirty and still see my hand in front of my face, or drive with my headlights off. and now, thanks to fantastic on-going trends, i have a new thing to love about summer:
froyo.
not just tcby, get-a-cone-and-walk-down-the-street-lazy-styles froyo. no, fuck that. that's amateur hour. when i enter a frozen yogurt establishment, i want AT LEAST six different choices of yogurt. at this point, i will take a large squirt of each, trying to keep complimentary flavors grouped and then realizing that that is folly and it's all sugar so just pump the damn yogurt.
there must be a minimum of ten feet of toppings NOT including the fruit. this is important. if i were a better person, i'd bring a tape measure with me (yes, that would make me a better person, it's providing a vital service). the toppings need to be fresh and varied. they need to include cereal and nuts and chocolate and candy and various gelatin-based bits. there should be a sauce bar of some kind, but this is not crucial.
when you finally get to the fruit, it, too, needs to be vibrant. no pansy-ass kiwi and pineapple niblets, please, it's insulting. this is also the section where you will find the brownie and cookie dough bits. if you don't find them there, throw your yogurt on the floor and leave.
there should be a little cooling machine next to the registers. in it is a canister of whipped cream. apply liberally. if you don't find it there, throw your yogurt on the floor and leave.
now to pay. they will weigh your yogurt and charge you by the ounce. if you have less than 16 ounces, throw your yogurt on the floor and leave.
... ha! that was a test! if you have less than 16 ounces, go back to the beginning of the line and add more shit.
your yogurt cup should now look like willy wonka and captain crunch went to a frat party and got hammered and threw up, and weigh as much as the average house cat. if it doesn't, you did it wrong and are now a failure. at yogurt. and that's the worst kind of failure, in my opinion. if, however, your cup meets all the aforementioned criteria, you are now free to sit and orally bask in your accomplishment.
one of these days i need to remember to take a picture of my epic yogurt creations, because i have yet to find a picture online that truly captures the spirit of yogurt-by-the-pound.
the website describes this yogurt as an "incredible frozen yogurt and topping combination". yeah, that's really incredible, if the definition of "incredible" was recently changed to "staying in one color scheme and being lame and boring". because as everyone knows, gummi candy + frozen yogurt = the hard, unappetizing bits swimming in melted yogurt that no one eats because they hurt your teeth.
oh look, someone likes mochi! you know what i like? chicken curry. maybe i should pour some over my yogurt and forsake all other toppings. BORING.
look at this fresh, healthful offering! a little yogurt, some nice chopped fruit, and oh, look out, a little syrup there! they're getting craaaaazy now! i think the only thing this cup needs is a little advice:
YOU DON'T EAT FROZEN YOGURT BY THE OUNCE FOR YOUR HEALTH. PUT SOME DAMN CHOCOLATE IN THAT BITCH.
i quit you, internet, you disgust me. i'll try and take a picture next time.
Saturday, June 11, 2011
+100 things that make me happy+ #14: the fragile euphoria of drawing and having that drawing come out just fine
there was a time in my life when i was fairly prolific. i drew all the time. mostly in class, which in retrospect makes a lot of sense, as i seem to do things best when i'm doing them in lieu of other things, like geometry and science.
i can't quite pinpoint when my multi-year-and-still-going dry spell of creativity began, or the reasons behind it. perhaps it was the nagging notion that just because my mother thinks my drawings are good and that i look great in this sweater vest, doesn't necessarily mean everyone else will feel the same way. and maybe that was coupled with a pre-built lack of self-esteem and desire FOR the acceptance and/or friendship from the very peer group i hated. and maybe that was mixed up with the already growing habit of swallowing myself inward to make myself as bland and "normal" as possible, so perhaps i could just be left the fuck alone for once.
it's really hard to say, exactly.
regardless of its origins, the spell has continued, and i have no idea how to really make it go away. the solution most likely has its roots in self-acceptance and forgiveness of myself and others, and a lot of crying and talking and quite possibly running away from everyone and everything and learning to be an autonomous unit.
all of the aforementioned messy bullshit makes the times when i do put pencil to paper and have it come out good all the more relieving. it's like, maybe i am good, and maybe things aren't as shitty as i'm making them out to be. which is usually how it works out. i'll learn that completely, one of these days, i'm sure. in the meantime, i'll continue about my merry way, getting over my fear of myself in millimeters of graphite and single drops of india ink. and cat hair. lots of cat hair. so... so much cat hair. dammit, finn.
i can't quite pinpoint when my multi-year-and-still-going dry spell of creativity began, or the reasons behind it. perhaps it was the nagging notion that just because my mother thinks my drawings are good and that i look great in this sweater vest, doesn't necessarily mean everyone else will feel the same way. and maybe that was coupled with a pre-built lack of self-esteem and desire FOR the acceptance and/or friendship from the very peer group i hated. and maybe that was mixed up with the already growing habit of swallowing myself inward to make myself as bland and "normal" as possible, so perhaps i could just be left the fuck alone for once.
it's really hard to say, exactly.
regardless of its origins, the spell has continued, and i have no idea how to really make it go away. the solution most likely has its roots in self-acceptance and forgiveness of myself and others, and a lot of crying and talking and quite possibly running away from everyone and everything and learning to be an autonomous unit.
all of the aforementioned messy bullshit makes the times when i do put pencil to paper and have it come out good all the more relieving. it's like, maybe i am good, and maybe things aren't as shitty as i'm making them out to be. which is usually how it works out. i'll learn that completely, one of these days, i'm sure. in the meantime, i'll continue about my merry way, getting over my fear of myself in millimeters of graphite and single drops of india ink. and cat hair. lots of cat hair. so... so much cat hair. dammit, finn.
Thursday, June 9, 2011
+100 things that make me happy+ #13: learning to use my camera effectively
in case you hadn't already guessed, this will be a picture-heavy post. because lo and behold, liz actually sat down for fifteen minutes and read through the manual that came with her camera all those years ago. and surprise, surprise, there's no longer noise or blur! MAGIC!
and since having learned to wield my camera in a more professional and pleasing manner, i have taken a great many pictures of random shit. mostly my cats. because they're insane. and plants, lots of plants. i live in the mountains, i have a lot of plants, all right? they're just there.
like this one:
look, ma! light and composition!
and this one:
omg, perspective and shit!
and then there's the things inside my house that somehow become much more interesting when i'm staring at them on a computer screen! like the wienerdog in my kitchen:
and of course the creatures in my house, like this little guy:
and these not-so-little guys.
i'm trying very hard not to fall into the pit of "i can take a decent, clear photo, ergo i am now a photographer and can call myself that and people will think i'm awesome, especially if it's black and white", but it's difficult when i'm having so much fun. i just have to keep bringing myself back down to earth with thoughts like, "you've never taken a photo class in your life" and "try being awesome with a real camera and not just your sony point-and-shoot before you fly off the handle". it works, i promise. but even with those thoughts, i feel more confident in my ability to accurately record my surroundings, and that really helps when i see something that perhaps i might want to paint later.
like this:
i'll probably give her wings or a tail. she'd like that.
and since having learned to wield my camera in a more professional and pleasing manner, i have taken a great many pictures of random shit. mostly my cats. because they're insane. and plants, lots of plants. i live in the mountains, i have a lot of plants, all right? they're just there.
like this one:
look, ma! light and composition!
and this one:
omg, perspective and shit!
and then there's the things inside my house that somehow become much more interesting when i'm staring at them on a computer screen! like the wienerdog in my kitchen:
and of course the creatures in my house, like this little guy:
and these not-so-little guys.
i'm trying very hard not to fall into the pit of "i can take a decent, clear photo, ergo i am now a photographer and can call myself that and people will think i'm awesome, especially if it's black and white", but it's difficult when i'm having so much fun. i just have to keep bringing myself back down to earth with thoughts like, "you've never taken a photo class in your life" and "try being awesome with a real camera and not just your sony point-and-shoot before you fly off the handle". it works, i promise. but even with those thoughts, i feel more confident in my ability to accurately record my surroundings, and that really helps when i see something that perhaps i might want to paint later.
like this:
i'll probably give her wings or a tail. she'd like that.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
+100 things that make me happy+ #12: getting a full, good night of sleep
i don't know if irony is the correct word to use when writing about how good it feels to get a full night of sleep after not having really gotten one the past few nights, but let's just plow right ahead, shall we?
i've found that everyone's definition of "a full night's sleep" is different. my affianced describes it as, like, six hours. i describe it as no less than eight. science has currently settled on seven hours as being the magic (adult) number (at least last i read).
i say screw my guy and science.
i don't know if it's just me and my hardcore urban lifestyle (computers, baked beans, nachos), or the fact that i'm female, or having fibromyalgia, but i notice a distinct, horrible difference when i don't get a certain amount of fancy, non-interrupted sleep. like, for instance, i become retarded. literally, my ability to think severely retards. and with retardation comes frustration and irritability over my inability to function as a normal person instead of some drooling, rabid forest yak.
in my semi-self-imposed idiocy, i tend to forget (or just straight ignore) the fact that maybe not staying up until one in the morning on my laptop will help me achieve the rest i need and desire. this will go on for a few days, and then the hunger sets in.
my body will demand energy from some source, and unfortunately, my fat ass seems to always be its last resort. so when the sleep rations are low, i start to eat like a maniac, thus adding to the never-ending-but-always-on-my-end resource that my body chooses to ignore. which i suppose is for the best, otherwise i would probably never sleep, and then i would die. but i would look fabulous at my cremation*.
wow, that all sounds terrible. which probably makes those nights when i DO sleep well all the more fucking fantastic. i am a motherfucking ninja when i'm fully awake and alert: i deal better with people, i remember more things, i hit fewer pedestrians with my car... it's a better situation for everyone involved. i pretty much glow in the dark, i'm that awesome.
unfortunately, the seductive, serotonin-restricting glow of tv and laptop always lures me with its siren's song, and i find myself stuck in an endless cycle of sleep-well, sleep-bad, sleep-well, sleep-bad. one of these days, i will win a nobel prize for discovering the gene that programs people to forget that sleeping and eating well and exercising will always make us feel better than sitting on the couch eating sour cream from a tub at two in the morning whilst watching skinemax.
google that in ten years, that'll be the exact first line of the abstract.
*i see no reason to have my descendents pay thousands of dollars to stick my dead body in a box designed for putrescence, have a fancy carved rock put in place lest they forget that i'm rotting in said box, and then be forced to eat terrible casseroles and jell-o with carrots and pineapple. i will burn and be returned to the cycle of life, thank you very much.
i've found that everyone's definition of "a full night's sleep" is different. my affianced describes it as, like, six hours. i describe it as no less than eight. science has currently settled on seven hours as being the magic (adult) number (at least last i read).
i say screw my guy and science.
i don't know if it's just me and my hardcore urban lifestyle (computers, baked beans, nachos), or the fact that i'm female, or having fibromyalgia, but i notice a distinct, horrible difference when i don't get a certain amount of fancy, non-interrupted sleep. like, for instance, i become retarded. literally, my ability to think severely retards. and with retardation comes frustration and irritability over my inability to function as a normal person instead of some drooling, rabid forest yak.
in my semi-self-imposed idiocy, i tend to forget (or just straight ignore) the fact that maybe not staying up until one in the morning on my laptop will help me achieve the rest i need and desire. this will go on for a few days, and then the hunger sets in.
my body will demand energy from some source, and unfortunately, my fat ass seems to always be its last resort. so when the sleep rations are low, i start to eat like a maniac, thus adding to the never-ending-but-always-on-my-end resource that my body chooses to ignore. which i suppose is for the best, otherwise i would probably never sleep, and then i would die. but i would look fabulous at my cremation*.
wow, that all sounds terrible. which probably makes those nights when i DO sleep well all the more fucking fantastic. i am a motherfucking ninja when i'm fully awake and alert: i deal better with people, i remember more things, i hit fewer pedestrians with my car... it's a better situation for everyone involved. i pretty much glow in the dark, i'm that awesome.
unfortunately, the seductive, serotonin-restricting glow of tv and laptop always lures me with its siren's song, and i find myself stuck in an endless cycle of sleep-well, sleep-bad, sleep-well, sleep-bad. one of these days, i will win a nobel prize for discovering the gene that programs people to forget that sleeping and eating well and exercising will always make us feel better than sitting on the couch eating sour cream from a tub at two in the morning whilst watching skinemax.
google that in ten years, that'll be the exact first line of the abstract.
*i see no reason to have my descendents pay thousands of dollars to stick my dead body in a box designed for putrescence, have a fancy carved rock put in place lest they forget that i'm rotting in said box, and then be forced to eat terrible casseroles and jell-o with carrots and pineapple. i will burn and be returned to the cycle of life, thank you very much.
Friday, June 3, 2011
+100 things that make me happy+ #11: sterling silver, especially rings
this one is pretty simple: i never really liked gold. despite claims and evidence of its worthiness and rareness, it always struck me as kind of cheap. kind of like the kardashians.
my everyday jewelry ensemble consists of the following:
a ball chain, knotted, with a the pin of a grenade and a squirrel pendant my affianced found in the yard at his shop
one octopus...
... and one rose
my pseudo-engagement ring on my middle finger (too big for the other one) and a simple, scrolled band
and a piece of turquoise that looks like a power line against a dusky sky, and a SEAHORSE!
notice a theme?
it doesn't hurt that silver is cheaper (kind of), more accessible, and more interesting than gold. though i think the last might because of the two aforementioned reasons. i'd be more experimental with a cheaper metal, too.
there isn't much i can do to dress up the subject of silver... someone killed themselves on the property i live on, so i'm not feeling especially creative at the moment. i promise the next one will be better.
my everyday jewelry ensemble consists of the following:
a ball chain, knotted, with a the pin of a grenade and a squirrel pendant my affianced found in the yard at his shop
one octopus...
... and one rose
my pseudo-engagement ring on my middle finger (too big for the other one) and a simple, scrolled band
and a piece of turquoise that looks like a power line against a dusky sky, and a SEAHORSE!
notice a theme?
it doesn't hurt that silver is cheaper (kind of), more accessible, and more interesting than gold. though i think the last might because of the two aforementioned reasons. i'd be more experimental with a cheaper metal, too.
there isn't much i can do to dress up the subject of silver... someone killed themselves on the property i live on, so i'm not feeling especially creative at the moment. i promise the next one will be better.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
+100 things that make me happy+ #10: seahorses, sea dragons
oh snap, we have achieved double-digits!
oh daffy. will you ever win?
so it could be said that i've been in college for about ten years. unfortunately, saying it that way makes me sound like i'm a retard; also, it's not entirely true. i've been taking community college classes for about ten years. i've taken math, english, pottery, life drawing, greek mythology, computer graphics, botany... i've taken a lot of random shit.
i've also taken marine biology. it was an ok class, i learned some interesting factoids that i could sprinkle into conversations at cocktail parties. ALL the cocktail parties that i go to, where conversation-sprinkling is a required art. yes.
the advantage of taking a marine biology course in california is that we're pretty much one big coastline, and therefore have access to amazing resources for study, such as the monterey bay aquarium. i think it might be actually be illegal to have a marine biology class within 100 square miles of the aquarium and not go there for a field trip, and my teacher had no interest in breaking laws. except for flirting with students. but anyway. i've always loved the aquarium*, so it was no hardship for me and my boyfriend to head down and out to monterey for a day. after all, there are so many things to love about the aquarium: the otters, the penguins, the jellyfish and sunfish and sea turtles and... what's that over there?
no, not there, there. next to the penguins. is that... is that a tank of seaweed?
no. no, it wasn't a tank of seaweed. it was a tank full of the most awesome animal ever to grace this planet:
the leafy sea dragon.
how much do i love leafy sea dragons? does INDELIBLY ETCHING ONE INTO MY VERY FLESH answer your question? my first and currently only tattoo is dedicated to this fine fragile creature, right on my left shoulder (lol, pun). I sketched a picture, using a photo as a reference, and then took both the sketch and my sister to a small, elderly chinese tattoo artist named pinky (RIP). and there i sat, sweating and clinging to both my sister's hand and the back of a chair, and gave my body as a living monument. leafy sea dragons are unfortunately threatened, so i figured if they somehow went (god forbid) extinct in my lifetime, i would have dedicated myself to their memory. and if they (hurray!) didn't, i would always have one as a reminder of how totally freaking awesome they are.
another thing to love about the aquarium is the rotating exhibits. last time i went, they had a magnificent seahorse exhibit that left me in a tiny, quivering puddle of delight on the floor. luckily, my guy was there to scoop me up before i was mistaken for evidence of a crack in the million-gallon outer sea tank, thus causing panic and terror for everyone. i really try to avoid that at all times.
so if you're ever in california--or more specifically, within 100 square miles of monterey--do the honest, legal thing, and visit the aquarium. don't let the man get you down.
*i spent my 21st birthday at the aquarium with my mom. true story. haters gonna hate.
oh daffy. will you ever win?
so it could be said that i've been in college for about ten years. unfortunately, saying it that way makes me sound like i'm a retard; also, it's not entirely true. i've been taking community college classes for about ten years. i've taken math, english, pottery, life drawing, greek mythology, computer graphics, botany... i've taken a lot of random shit.
i've also taken marine biology. it was an ok class, i learned some interesting factoids that i could sprinkle into conversations at cocktail parties. ALL the cocktail parties that i go to, where conversation-sprinkling is a required art. yes.
the advantage of taking a marine biology course in california is that we're pretty much one big coastline, and therefore have access to amazing resources for study, such as the monterey bay aquarium. i think it might be actually be illegal to have a marine biology class within 100 square miles of the aquarium and not go there for a field trip, and my teacher had no interest in breaking laws. except for flirting with students. but anyway. i've always loved the aquarium*, so it was no hardship for me and my boyfriend to head down and out to monterey for a day. after all, there are so many things to love about the aquarium: the otters, the penguins, the jellyfish and sunfish and sea turtles and... what's that over there?
no, not there, there. next to the penguins. is that... is that a tank of seaweed?
no. no, it wasn't a tank of seaweed. it was a tank full of the most awesome animal ever to grace this planet:
the leafy sea dragon.
how much do i love leafy sea dragons? does INDELIBLY ETCHING ONE INTO MY VERY FLESH answer your question? my first and currently only tattoo is dedicated to this fine fragile creature, right on my left shoulder (lol, pun). I sketched a picture, using a photo as a reference, and then took both the sketch and my sister to a small, elderly chinese tattoo artist named pinky (RIP). and there i sat, sweating and clinging to both my sister's hand and the back of a chair, and gave my body as a living monument. leafy sea dragons are unfortunately threatened, so i figured if they somehow went (god forbid) extinct in my lifetime, i would have dedicated myself to their memory. and if they (hurray!) didn't, i would always have one as a reminder of how totally freaking awesome they are.
another thing to love about the aquarium is the rotating exhibits. last time i went, they had a magnificent seahorse exhibit that left me in a tiny, quivering puddle of delight on the floor. luckily, my guy was there to scoop me up before i was mistaken for evidence of a crack in the million-gallon outer sea tank, thus causing panic and terror for everyone. i really try to avoid that at all times.
so if you're ever in california--or more specifically, within 100 square miles of monterey--do the honest, legal thing, and visit the aquarium. don't let the man get you down.
*i spent my 21st birthday at the aquarium with my mom. true story. haters gonna hate.
Monday, May 23, 2011
+100 things that make me happy+ #9: bearded dragons, especially babies with big dumb heads
once upon a time, i had the manliest man*, ever, named mr. hifi banjo strings (banjo for short). he lived in a spacious bachelor tank in my bedroom. he had big, meaty thighs and a huge black beard, and he subjugated all objects and creatures within his line of sight. he was missing a bit of his tail, but i always told people that if they thought that was bad, they should really see the other guy. or not, because it would be incredibly disturbing, such was the extent of their fucked-up-ness via my dragon.
one day, he was joined by a beautiful lady dragon named gelfling. their love had the power to cross the two layers of glass between them, and they pined for the day that they could finally be together as dragons are meant to be. and when that day finally came...
they got it on.
which left me with many fantastic learning experiences! such as, female bearded dragons can hoard sperm inside them for multiple clutches of eggs! AWESOME!
and that they can lay anywhere from five to thirty of the damned things! SWEET.
and, of course, that baby bearded dragons can climb ANYTHING, including the slick sides of the plastic cup of water in their incubator, scaring the shit out of me and leaving me performing a slightly modified version of the heimlich on a creature the size of my pinky finger!
RADICAL.
and when it was all said and done, my baby girl gifted me with 74 eggs total, 69 of which were viable, spread out over three clutches. broken down, that's 24 in the first, 26 in the second, and then another 24 just to make it a nice, even palindrome. of numbers. yes.
now, in reading this, you might sense that i was less than pleased with the situation; and if that's the case, why is it included in a list of 100 things that make me happy? after all, this isn't the list of 100 things that are incredibly inconvenient and vexing.
so i offer you the following image. i believe it fully conveys the joy and wonder and whimsy that being a lizard mommy brings:
that's right. that's a pile of baby bearded dragons. that's how they sleep! like puppies, only smaller and goofier! also, more self-sufficient, as the timing on each and every hatchling was thirty seconds flat from egg to full mobility.
unfortunately, both banjo and gelfling have since passed on, and the babies have long since found new homes. i now have a new man in my life...
word.
*the night gelfling laid her first clutch of eggs, my mom and i raced to dolphin pet village in a panic for coconut shavings, an incubator and advice as to what the fuck we were supposed to do. it was near closing, and i was waiting outside whilst my mom paid, with banjo sitting on my knee on his little leash. one of the employees came out to start moving the cat furniture and parrot cages they had on display back in to the store, and he looked at banjo and said, "that's the ugliest dog i've ever seen." i guess i can't really fault him for that.
one day, he was joined by a beautiful lady dragon named gelfling. their love had the power to cross the two layers of glass between them, and they pined for the day that they could finally be together as dragons are meant to be. and when that day finally came...
they got it on.
which left me with many fantastic learning experiences! such as, female bearded dragons can hoard sperm inside them for multiple clutches of eggs! AWESOME!
and that they can lay anywhere from five to thirty of the damned things! SWEET.
and, of course, that baby bearded dragons can climb ANYTHING, including the slick sides of the plastic cup of water in their incubator, scaring the shit out of me and leaving me performing a slightly modified version of the heimlich on a creature the size of my pinky finger!
RADICAL.
and when it was all said and done, my baby girl gifted me with 74 eggs total, 69 of which were viable, spread out over three clutches. broken down, that's 24 in the first, 26 in the second, and then another 24 just to make it a nice, even palindrome. of numbers. yes.
now, in reading this, you might sense that i was less than pleased with the situation; and if that's the case, why is it included in a list of 100 things that make me happy? after all, this isn't the list of 100 things that are incredibly inconvenient and vexing.
so i offer you the following image. i believe it fully conveys the joy and wonder and whimsy that being a lizard mommy brings:
that's right. that's a pile of baby bearded dragons. that's how they sleep! like puppies, only smaller and goofier! also, more self-sufficient, as the timing on each and every hatchling was thirty seconds flat from egg to full mobility.
unfortunately, both banjo and gelfling have since passed on, and the babies have long since found new homes. i now have a new man in my life...
word.
*the night gelfling laid her first clutch of eggs, my mom and i raced to dolphin pet village in a panic for coconut shavings, an incubator and advice as to what the fuck we were supposed to do. it was near closing, and i was waiting outside whilst my mom paid, with banjo sitting on my knee on his little leash. one of the employees came out to start moving the cat furniture and parrot cages they had on display back in to the store, and he looked at banjo and said, "that's the ugliest dog i've ever seen." i guess i can't really fault him for that.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
+100 things that make me happy+ #8: coconut, in all its forms
every year for his birthday, my father asks for german chocolate cake. german chocolate cake is, of course, a cocoa-based caked with a coconut frosting. because nothing says "LIEBEN SIE" like a nice tropical coconut.
and every year, i wouldn't eat it.
why? because when i was a kid, i hated having to chew coconut. it was tough and fibrous and i was as easily bored as i was amused. i didn't have time to sit and chew my way through an entire piece of that stuff; there were bugs outside that i had not yet built homes for.
of course, as everyone knows, one distinguishing characteristic of most children is that they're totally retarded, and i was no different, seeing as how i passed up innumerable opportunities to consume coconut. i love coconut. i love how it smells, alone and mixed with other things. i love how it tastes, alone and mixed with other things. i love how it feels, alo- wait, no, it's actually kind of rough. scratch that. the other stuff though, yeah. totally.
i was crushed to discover that bath and body works had discontinued their coconut cream lotion, and further dismayed to not find any suitable substitute. i was overjoyed to find that alba's coconut creme lip gloss was a dollar less at whole foods than walgreens. it was interesting and informative to learn that fresh coconut milk was not an acceptable substitute for butter in a cookie recipe (though they still managed to taste pretty good, one point for me, awesome).
my shampoo is coconut. my luna bars are coconut. i am a coconut. and you know what? coconuts are hard on the outside, and solid, and rough. you don't fuck with a coconut. and that's how i will be. i will be like a coconut. and when i'm done, i will smell damn good. and that's all that matters.
and every year, i wouldn't eat it.
why? because when i was a kid, i hated having to chew coconut. it was tough and fibrous and i was as easily bored as i was amused. i didn't have time to sit and chew my way through an entire piece of that stuff; there were bugs outside that i had not yet built homes for.
of course, as everyone knows, one distinguishing characteristic of most children is that they're totally retarded, and i was no different, seeing as how i passed up innumerable opportunities to consume coconut. i love coconut. i love how it smells, alone and mixed with other things. i love how it tastes, alone and mixed with other things. i love how it feels, alo- wait, no, it's actually kind of rough. scratch that. the other stuff though, yeah. totally.
i was crushed to discover that bath and body works had discontinued their coconut cream lotion, and further dismayed to not find any suitable substitute. i was overjoyed to find that alba's coconut creme lip gloss was a dollar less at whole foods than walgreens. it was interesting and informative to learn that fresh coconut milk was not an acceptable substitute for butter in a cookie recipe (though they still managed to taste pretty good, one point for me, awesome).
my shampoo is coconut. my luna bars are coconut. i am a coconut. and you know what? coconuts are hard on the outside, and solid, and rough. you don't fuck with a coconut. and that's how i will be. i will be like a coconut. and when i'm done, i will smell damn good. and that's all that matters.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
+100 things that make me happy+ #7: cover songs
i started writing this a week or so ago, and finally got around to finishing it. important point: i finished it. hurray!
oh. snap. nitty-gritty time.
see, when i made this list, i just wrote stuff down (see: typed) and numbered everything. and then when i started writing about each item on the list, i went in numerical order because i have just enough of an OCD tendency to be really annoying and not allow myself the luxury of skipping about the list all willy-nilly. much like the manner in which you can't fight the gorgetron.
so while everything on the list makes me happy, there are some things on it that make me really happy, and cover songs are one of those things. (it feels weird to speak plurally about a singularity, but OH WELL GRAMMAR MCWRITEGOOD, take two interrobangs and call me in the morning. i'll be drunk)
i've always enjoyed cover songs, though for the most part with the same kind of passion i felt for other songs; it wasn't until fairly recently that i developed a real keen interest in them. so much so that i started a (neglected at the moment, i need to get on that once i'm off your mother {LOL}) blog about them, focusing more on the ironic variety, i.e, a death metal group covering ace of bass' "all that she wants". another baby, by the way. that's all she wants. she's not very deep, that one.
oddly enough, a lot of my favorite covers end up being songs that i didn't know were covers. the killers doing shadowplay, nine inch nails and dead souls, nirvana and where did you sleep last night?... totally in the dark here.
that's why i really should get back into my covers blog, because it was in researching other songs that i discovered the origins of those, and a bunch more. i have a whole big nirvana cover/covered retrospective that i need to finish up and post for the delight of all, and for my own personal self-edification. that and i need to continue with things and not let them slip away. but that's for another discussion.
a couple of favorites from my blog:
send me an angel:
oh. snap. nitty-gritty time.
see, when i made this list, i just wrote stuff down (see: typed) and numbered everything. and then when i started writing about each item on the list, i went in numerical order because i have just enough of an OCD tendency to be really annoying and not allow myself the luxury of skipping about the list all willy-nilly. much like the manner in which you can't fight the gorgetron.
so while everything on the list makes me happy, there are some things on it that make me really happy, and cover songs are one of those things. (it feels weird to speak plurally about a singularity, but OH WELL GRAMMAR MCWRITEGOOD, take two interrobangs and call me in the morning. i'll be drunk)
i've always enjoyed cover songs, though for the most part with the same kind of passion i felt for other songs; it wasn't until fairly recently that i developed a real keen interest in them. so much so that i started a (neglected at the moment, i need to get on that once i'm off your mother {LOL}) blog about them, focusing more on the ironic variety, i.e, a death metal group covering ace of bass' "all that she wants". another baby, by the way. that's all she wants. she's not very deep, that one.
oddly enough, a lot of my favorite covers end up being songs that i didn't know were covers. the killers doing shadowplay, nine inch nails and dead souls, nirvana and where did you sleep last night?... totally in the dark here.
that's why i really should get back into my covers blog, because it was in researching other songs that i discovered the origins of those, and a bunch more. i have a whole big nirvana cover/covered retrospective that i need to finish up and post for the delight of all, and for my own personal self-edification. that and i need to continue with things and not let them slip away. but that's for another discussion.
a couple of favorites from my blog:
send me an angel:
Saturday, April 23, 2011
+100 things that make me happy+ #6: indescribable moments of excellent qualities of sunlight and clouds
wow, i'm pretty sure there is no way i could've come up with a more pretentious, hipster description and title, buttttttt there you go, that's the best i could do. because there are times when you step out your front door in the morning and the mist has burned off the christmas trees in the farm next door but it's still lingering in the sky above, and the sun is yellow and the trees are pink and you're just like, "... yeah."
since i fail at words, this will be mostly a picture post, via stock.xchng and google.*
no, i do not live in a castle.
nor by a lake.
i do not live in a rickety, falling down fisherman's hut.
and i unfortunately don't live anywhere near this.
this and the following photo exist in better sizes, but the photographer is apparently a paranoid android and has emblazoned his full-size photos with ugly watermarking (and i use that term lightly, since in my mind, "watermarking" is a subtle yet distinguishable mark upon an image, whereas the marks on this guy's stuff look like they were done in MS paint)
see above.
and then i randomly found a painting that totally got what i was going for!
i hope that was helpful in shedding some light (LOL) on #6**... one of these days, i'll get a real camera, and then i can take some pictures of the light around my house. perhaps someday the weather will stop sucking my balls and make it even easier to achieve the aforementioned. because it's kinda hard to take good pictures of good light when you're lacking both.
* my photography-fu is unfortunately weak, due to lack of skill and a camera capable of catching all the nuances of color that occur around my own home. :(
** upon further reflection and searching results, i've found that there is a way to describe the light that i sometimes get up here: HDR. sometimes, my mornings exist in real-time HDR. the future is now!
since i fail at words, this will be mostly a picture post, via stock.xchng and google.*
no, i do not live in a castle.
nor by a lake.
i do not live in a rickety, falling down fisherman's hut.
and i unfortunately don't live anywhere near this.
this and the following photo exist in better sizes, but the photographer is apparently a paranoid android and has emblazoned his full-size photos with ugly watermarking (and i use that term lightly, since in my mind, "watermarking" is a subtle yet distinguishable mark upon an image, whereas the marks on this guy's stuff look like they were done in MS paint)
see above.
and then i randomly found a painting that totally got what i was going for!
i hope that was helpful in shedding some light (LOL) on #6**... one of these days, i'll get a real camera, and then i can take some pictures of the light around my house. perhaps someday the weather will stop sucking my balls and make it even easier to achieve the aforementioned. because it's kinda hard to take good pictures of good light when you're lacking both.
* my photography-fu is unfortunately weak, due to lack of skill and a camera capable of catching all the nuances of color that occur around my own home. :(
** upon further reflection and searching results, i've found that there is a way to describe the light that i sometimes get up here: HDR. sometimes, my mornings exist in real-time HDR. the future is now!
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