Wednesday, May 31, 2006


Wish List Wednesday - Inaugural List

So I have this habit of making lists of things I'd like to have or do. Sometimes they are attainable. Sometimes not so much. But it makes me happy...

1. A fez

2. An actual "Dogs Playing Poker" oil painting

3. To find a way to introduce the word "antimacassar" into my daily conversation. Also, to know under what circumstances I might need words that rhyme with antimacassar. Or, better yet, for someone to send me a poem with the word antimacassar in it. (Can you tell I like saying/typing this word?).

4. To own a roller derby team.

5. Delicate ankles.

6. A law requiring all cafes/coffee shops/coffee carts to have a line for REGULAR COFFEE. Nothing is more demoralizing at 6am than to realize that you are standing behind at least 6 different non-fat, extra hot, with whip specialty drink orders.

ADDENDUM 1: Just realized that I spelled it "antimaccasar" all three times. That rocks. Embarrassing problem now fixed.

ADDENDUM 2: Make sure you scroll down to the "Dancing Man" translation of antimacassar. I feel a dance coming on...An suggestions for songs?

Monday, May 29, 2006


Reason #72 That I’m Still Single

It is Memorial Day. After a whole weekend of operating, eating food out of vending machines, and avoiding social events as much as possible, I have taken a moment to look around. I’m sitting on the couch in black yoga pants and a white long sleeved t-shirt. The pooch is once again in 60pound lapdog mode so the black pants are covered (and I mean COVERED) with bourbon hued fur. I was too tire to cook dinner, so the white t-shirt has at least 4 pizza sauce stains on it (no recollection of how that happened). My curls are pulled up in a really attractive ponytail almost on top of my head. Oh yeah – remember the hives? Well, they’re back with a vengeance. They never completely went away, but they were almost gone. Now I look like I have the pox again. Add some anti-histamines and some sleepless nights...Voila! Bags under eyes.

Admit it. You wish you were me.

Friday, May 26, 2006


I Am So Very Sad...

The reasons why I am sad are too numerous to count. But tonight, I intend to write about one reason. My Ruby, the Bobo, and SquirrelNuts are moving to Japan. Not Little Tokyo in San Franscisco. NO. Not the International District in Seattle. NO. They are moving to that small but financially and industrially influential island so far away I can’t even fathom flying to it until I can afford business class. How can I let go of this…

Alright, alright. So this picture was pre-squirrel – back when the livin’ was drunk and easy – but it kind of sums things up. That’s the Bobo’s Bronco aka “The Frog”. We are at the Pinnacles on the outskirts of Death Valley (just outside of Trona where the Marky Mark version of “Planet of the Apes” was filmed). We’re drinking beer from a local brewery that we’d drained from a keg into Tupperware pitchers to take with us. There was an awesome sunset and we were so happy and free.

So why think of this now. Well, this week I went to a work related dinner at the Hotel Del Coronado. Very swanky? Yes. But I always remember one particular weekend almost 4 years ago…

See, the Bobo was in the desert and Ah-sweep-ay was out of town. So Ruby and I decided to splurge and spend a night at the Del. We checked in and went straight to the bar. Several martinis later we went to dinner. A bottle of wine later we went back to the piano bar. Several more martinis later (and yes, my math is correct – remember, these livers had been in training) we finally went upstairs to crash. I sat on the floor to watch TV and fell asleep/passed out.

Ruby, as those of you who know her can attest, is OCD and was taking her usual pre-bed shower. When she came out, I was out cold and unwakeable. Despite this, I woke up comfortably on the furniture the next morning. “How did I get here? I don’t remember waking up,” I said. “You didn’t,” replied Ruby. See, OCD girl couldn’t stand to see her friend snoring on hotel carpeting. She called the front desk, amd asked them to send someone up to “help her move something”. When the bellman showed up, she pointed at me and asked him to put me on my bed – WHICH HE DID!!!. He kindly offered to call a doctor if necessary , but she pointed out that I was snoring comfortably. OH MY GOD!

When I was MORE THAN APPALLED the next AM, Ruby simply said, “Well, I couldn’t just let you sleep on the floor.” Oh, yeah. O.K.

But to this day, I can’t have a drink at the Del without wondering if any of the bellmen recognize me.

Tuesday, May 23, 2006


Dude, Where's My Post?

Um, okay. My post from yesterday is missing. The title is still there, but it appears the mediocre prose just up and disappeared. It must have been there earlier, because Sherri left a comment (and if it wasn't there she is psychic which would be just another superpower she possesses). Either that, or "I am half Irish" was enough to let the internet know about my blistering sunburn. What is happening?

Saturday, May 20, 2006


I Am Half Irish, But Full-blooded Moron

Wednesday, May 17, 2006


What Cheeses Me Off

So today, I stopped at Starbucks on my way to see Ruby. I hate to contribute money to the Caffeine Deathstar (I prefer to support independent cafes), but I was desparate. Anyway, three guys were waiting for their drinks and one guy went to the restroom. When he came back, he was looking for his drink. Let me break in at this point and add that said guy was wearing a giant cross on a leather strap prominently displayed around his neck. As I picked up my drink (iced coffee, unsweetened, no room), I kindly told him that his friends had already picked up his drink. Without so much as a thank you, he stalked off out the door in front of me and let said door slam in my face.

Hey buddy, it seems Jesus forgot to teach you any common courtesy. Fuck you very much.

p.s. Apparently I have some anger issues.


Crossing Jordan?

Does anyone else watch Crossing Jordan? Okay, I'm a few weeks behind as I'm just catching up on my recorded episodes...But I really hate that Lu bitch. Anyone else?

Wednesday, May 10, 2006


Crush Sherri's Head Wednesday

The rest of the NYC trip update is coming. In the meantime, Kranki asked if there was any crushing? Not exactly, but (in keeping with the whole bird attack theme) Sherri was attacked by this fierce eagle statue during dinner.

It's not safe anywhere anymore. (Especially if you give me red wine and a camera!)

Monday, May 08, 2006


The Boys

Frazier and Niles are Ruby's two cats best described as domestic long hair (Frazee) and domestic short hair. We just call them the (orange) "boys". Frazier purrs like a motorboat and can keep this up for hours. Cute when you're petting him, not so cute when he's sleeping on your head at 3am. Am I right, Brand Eye?

this is an audio post - click to play

Sunday, May 07, 2006



O.k. I've said before that I am a complete computer/internet moron, so it was only recently that I figured out that IRL meant "in real life". I think the only reason I got that far was because I spend so much time in Southern Califonia traffic trying to figure out vanity plates. Hey, everyone needs a hobby.

This weekend, I had my first IRL blogger meeting - Sherri of the fire-red hair was kind enough to spend her Saturday sightseeing, eating, and drinking her way around Manhattan with me. It was awesome. We had a phenomenal time which I will post more on later. For now, I'll leave you with a picture from our ferry ride out to the Statue of Liberty.

Kind of makes you wonder how anyone else fit up on deck with us with all the wild hair we had between us. Apparently we had something working for us, because we were invited into the cockpit to meet the ferry captain and presented with passes to get inside the Statue (quite fortunate as we didn't know we needed reservations). A good time was had by all (not the ferry captain, you perverts - he was a gentleman). More details to follow. In the meantime, go cheer Sherri and her bruised ribs up with something nice.

Tuesday, May 02, 2006


My Heart Aches...

I checkthis site out every so often...I keep toying with the idea of a pal for Hooch. You know, to keep him company when I'm at work. In no way is this for me AT ALL. But when I check the "special needs" puppies out, I am constantly amazed at the cruelty of my fellow man. Who could beat up a dog? Who would abandon a dog to move into a condo that doesn't take pets. In fact, there was once a dog on another site who didn't match the new color scheme. It makes me sick - really, physically, sick. And it's not just boxers, I know. I've always wanted a mastiff but haven't had the space. When I see a deaf white boxer, a blind mastiff, a dog that has been through the ringer and can still wag its tail, it makes me wish I'd been a vet.


Stampy’s Big Adventure – Part I/Day 2

After a late start (Gram’s ghost not only turned off our alarm clock, but must have drank some of the wine because no way did we go through 3 bottles) with brunch at Crossroads, we hiked out to Lost Horse Mine.

We saw these Mojave Yuccas on the way out…

They look like they’re crowned with cauliflower when they bloom…

I almost face planted in this Mojave Mound Cactus getting this shot…

The mine and shafts are fenced off to prevent to the inquisitive moron from falling in…

On our way back, we decided to check out Cap Rock. Not only is this a popular climbing spot, but, according to a Rolling Stone article in the Gram scrapbook, is where Gram and Keith Richards used to scramble up and look for flying saucers. Also, Gram Parson’s body was stolen by his road manager and another guy and burned at the base of Cap Rock. Cool stuff, huh?

Then, to finish off the nature portion of our day, we went to the spot where the Mojave and Colorado deserts meet. It’s called the Ocotillo Cactus Garden, but it is actually full of Cholla cacti.

I had to take a picture of the creosote bush just because every time we came upon one I’d say, “One more wafer thin mint, Monsieur Creosote Bush?” and giggle.

After a quick change of clothing (the temp changes quickly in the high desert this time of year), we headed off to Pioneertown and Pappy and Harriet's Bar. During the day, this is one of my favorite places to hang out. The outdoor bar sees people hiking up or pulling up on horses, atv’s , and Harley’s.

Inside, the Thrift Store All-stars were playing. They were awesome. If you are ever in the area, check them out.

Finally, we ended up at the 29 Palms Inn for dinner. They have a very good restaurant near the pool. There was a trio playing there. Both Pappy and Harriet’s and 29 Palms Inn highlight what I love so much about the desert. One minute you’re driving down a dirt road, the next minute your listening to awesome live music and drinking bloody mary’s with tattooed bikers and hippies dancing like they’re at a Dead show. Love it!

In case you were wondering about the Tanya Tucker dream, we had watched Tuckerville on cable the night before. In it, Tanya bought her cleaning lady tickets to a Tim McGraw show for her birthday and took her backstage to meet Tim. While we were hiking out to the mine, I was thinking about what would happen if I ever met Keanu Reeves and we hit it off. Then I imagined us going to an opening or a premier. The press would be wondering, “Who is this plain Jane?” I would meet towering model-actresses who would look down at me imperiously. Then I thought, wait. Tanya Tucker has put on some weight and some years, and yet she still commands attention. Why? Her cleaning lady was just as cute. So maybe it’s all about attitude and confidence. Then, reality hit. I’m hiking through the desert thinking about Keanu and Tanya. So I shared this with Matilda who simply chuckled. Now that’s a good friend.


I Was Once a Little Old Italian Woman

Well, Kranki, I looked and looked for the other shot where the blue afghan and its fringed edges are draped gypsy like around my face. Unfortunately, this is the only one I could find. Here, I am dressed in my grandmother's wig and am wearing the afghan as a not-so-stylish skirt. At any rate, it should make Yoshicita feel better to know that even little humans get humiliated by the people in charge of taking care of them.

The beatific smile on my face, no doubt, means I have been bribed with meatballs and bad daytime television (I used to watch soaps with Nana). Is that how you get Yoshi to pose?

Monday, May 01, 2006


Stampy’s Excellent Adventure – Part I/Day 1

First, and completely off topic, just let me say that hives suck. Hives – those red, raised, itchy welts that appear out of nowhere and blanket your body in the most attractive way. Believe it or not, this is my first experience with them. Sure, I’ve had wicked poison ivy, head-to-toe poison oak, and (I’m sure) a brush with poison sumac – all of these sucked in there own horrific way. But at least I knew the cause. I’m a very “cause and effect” kind of gal. Now, I just keep saying - Why? Why? Why? – like a particularly annoying toddler. And all I can do about these hives is wear long pants/long sleeves to hide as much as possible, take benadryl, and try not to itch. O.K. …enough bitching (I know, no such thing as “enough” bitching)…back to the adventures.

Last Saturday, I picked Waltzing Matilda up and we drove to Joshua Tree, California. Upon arrival, we headed immediately to the far end of the park, and began with the Forty-nine Palms oasis hike – an easy 4 mile warm-up.

The hike on the way in…

The Oasis…

Some funky, bamboo type plant that we liked…

Colorful cacti that always remind me of Tribbles…

Realizing we hadn’t eaten anything but coffee and Australian red licorice, we headed ot my favorite café in the area – Crossroads Café – for a wonderful late lunch. Finally, it was time to check into our motel – The Joshua Tree Inn. This inn was the former crashpad of Gram Parsons, Emmylou Harris, and others. I’d booked Room 8 – the room Gram Parsons drank himself to death on tequila and heroin cocktails.

While we were fresh out of both tequila and heroin, we did have a rather large supply of red wine, chocolate, and more red licorice. The wind was howling, so we decided to hang out and read the journal in which people write notes to Gram, about Gram, and about Gram’s ghost. Our favorite entry on artistic merit was this one…

But the most entertaining was the one where some chick kept spelling “desert” as “dessert”. I have since decided that my travelogue will be titled “Lost In the Dessert (sic)”.

And for being bitchy, Gram's ghost paid us back by repeatedly disconnecting the chain that flushed the toilet, and by making me dream about Tanya Tucker (don't ask). The adventure continues...

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