Teaser photo about this evening... details coming inthe morning.
Lovely dinner, lovely company, didn't get lost but got a flat tire... more to come!

Because poop is funny.

First of all let me just say, I ate licorice today. Alot of licorice. I like licorice.

Just now I was one fart away from a really good story or a really bad time.

Afterwards Ron walked past the bathroom and says "I don't know what that was but it came out of you and I find that... unsettling."

I had many things running through my mind today... things that caused me to stop and say to myself "I should blog that." But alas... I am PMSing right now, or perhaps just MSing, and could I be bothered to stop the mental chatter for a moment and write a bitch down? Of course not.

*sigh*

My boobs hurt. How's that?

Question for the Masses

So far this year I have managed to post something here every single day. I happen to be going away this weekend to a place where I will not have internet access.

My question to y'all is this: If I continue to write something on my laptop each day then post it when I get home does this count as blogging everyday?

Flying at Maximum Verbosity

I have been rather wordy this past week... wordier than usual anyway. What's up with that? I'll spare y'all tonight because I am tired and I just don't have anything to share this evening.

The Whole Fam-Damnly

My step-sister Melissa and her family are visiting from Texas for a couple of weeks and today we drove down to my mom's place in Wareham for a visit. I shot every one of them. With my camera, silly! Pic's will be posted real soon! Really! I'm trying to be better about editing and posting quickly because I don't want to get behind again.

Trauma at Target, or, An Idiot Girls Moment

I went to Target last night to try and find a bikini bottom that fit my bottom. Yes, just the bottom.

You see, I have two "tankini's" One is so old I bought it at Bradlee's which went out of business years ago. The other is about two years old, maybe three and I can't find the bottom. The old Bradlee's one has held up surprisingly well, which shouldn't surprise me really since I only swim once or twice a year.

The problem is the bottom of the old one fits perfectly and the top doesn't fit at all, and the newer top and old bottom don't match. This is fine when swimming in the privacy of someones pool or up in Maine at the lake, but not so good for water parks and other extremely public places, which is where I thought I would be spending tomorrow when my sister mercifully made other plans for a family gathering.

So I find myself at Target. I love Target. I love the fact that they have no crappy music filling our ears with the purgatorial qualities of muzaak. It's a quiet shopping oasis in this mixed up crazy world we live in and I like it that way. I like it so much that I feel the need to mention it everything I write about this store in the event that someone in charge of this policy comes across this blog post. I feel very strongly about my quiet shopping experience. It is the number one reason why I shop there.

Anywho... I am in Target and I am dismayed to discover, as I do every time I need to find a swimsuit on a deadline, and it's always on a deadline, that there is an almost non-existent selection of bathing suits in whatever store I happen to be looking in. It's only the middle of July and I remember too late that I you don't have your swim suit bought and paid for in say, April, you are shit out of luck. Last night was such an occasion.

I recall trying to find a bathing suit to take on my honeymoon in August twelve years ago and finding a poorly fitting leopard print travesty and the fore mentioned tankini from Bradlee's that ended up wearing for years. The last time we were invited to spend a weekend in Cotuit with Bill & Amanda and I needed a bathing suit STAT. This time it's for a planned family reunion at a water park which it turns out I don't really need after all. I do need something for next weekend in Maine though so I found a black bottom with a skirt attached. It's hideous, but it gets the job done. Sadly, it is not on sale.

In a moment of inspiration I wander over to the fitness department and find a pair of black spandex short-shorts and a jogging tank made of swimsuit like material with a built in bra. EUREKA! This should do the trick. I take my loot and head for the dressing room.

The dressing room is full of teenage girls and the scent of tangerine bubble gum overwhelms me. The smell is sickeningly sweet and cloying. I head into a cubicle and lock myself in and find myself engulfed in a new odor: urine.

Why does this dressing room smell of urine? It's not a restroom... there are some rather fine public restrooms in the front of the store. I asked Ron why would a dressing room smell like pee and he said quite seriously, "Because people pee in them."

Let me tell you tangerine bubble gum and piss make a rather nauseating combination.

I investigate the other dressing stalls and find them all full and go back into my urinal to disrobe, breathing through my mouth the entire time. I stand before the mirror, legs bare and stare in horror.

When did my thighs start to look like that? I moan and say to myself, what is this? My clothes at home still fit... most of them anyway. I tell myself it's the crappy lighting in the store... but I know deep that it is not. I am afraid all the weight I lost while attending school has officially returned and brought friends with it. I am lumpy and I feel a little upset with myself, slightly traumatized even.

I vow right then and there that the soda I had earlier in the day is my last one. I swear I will not order a large sub the next time I go to the sub shop, or better yet, stop going to the sub shop. I kiss off my occasional pms fueled indulgence of a dark chocolate Milky Way bar. If I could marry a Milky Way Bar I would, I love them that much.

Then I went straight back over to the fitness section and select a pair of sweatpants and new yoga pants with the intent of getting them sweaty. I know as well as many of you folks do that the only way these sweatpants will absorb any actual sweat is if I sunbath in them in August in Florida while drinking hot tea with jalapenos, but it makes me feel better to put them in my cart.

I also know that Ron likes my thighs just the way they are... attached to my ass, and that's all that really matters. And I have comfy new pants to sit on the sofa in while I eat my ice cream.

I is a poet....

Yes, THIS is an ad,
but it's clever and fun,
and without internet, so sad,
it had to be done.

Asshole in Aisle 11

Ron and I did a quick food shop last Sunday evening and discovered the biggest asshole in the world in line ahead of us. I was only paying half attention to the drama unfolding in front of the person ahead of us in line. Suddenly the woman ahead of us shakes her head in disgust and moves to another line. We creep up and take notice of the jerk at the register.

The waste of skin standing before us is berating the cashier and while I can't hear what he is saying it is clear that he is not happy. We decided to inch away and join the other customer in the other line. As we start to move we see the cashier whip out a roll of paper towels and spray cleaner and with a look of pure hatred on her face she cleaned the conveyor belt. It is only after the belt is clean does this "gentleman" put his precious groceries on it.

The first item is a sealed rack of ribs. One of those vacuum sealed ones already smothered in deliciousness. The cashier picks it up and as she scan it the twatwaffle says "I may or may not want that". Well, which is it? Dipshit couldn't be bothered to check the price before he put it in his carriage? Well, once she scanned it he decided he didn't want it afterall and made her void it. This happened a few more times.

The poor cashier kept her mouth shut and was trying to do her job but no matter what she did it was wrong. She eventually got flustered and made a real mistake and he piped up with a note of triumph in his voice, loud enough for all to hear "You missed that one!"

This choad kept muttering and berating her the whole time and finally it was our turn to deal with our groceries. We give both our cashier and the one being harassed a sympathethic look and I said something along the lines of "Is this guy a regular or something?" Our cashier says yes and he does this abusive act every time he comes in. She even said she was going to complain to the manager about him and see if he can be banned from the supermarket.

It was then he decided to raise his voice again and say "You can't do anything right!" and our cashier said over her shoulder "No one can get it right for you sir." I doubt that sunk in, but I bet it made her and her co-worker feel a little better. As we finished our transaction we wished them both good luck loud enough for all to hear and made a hasty exit.

I have a mind to complain to the manager about this guy myself he was that unpleasant. I think this is one customer Stop & Shop can afford to lose.

I touched a wolf today!

Update:
Okay, that was rather vague and ubrupt of me yesterday.... I'm sorry, but I wanted to post something about the day before the lightening storm rolled in and I am glad I turned the computer off when I did becasue I heard on the radio this morning that a guy in Holliston (or Hopkinton, one of them dang "H" towns...) was electrocuted while using his computer during last nights series of ass-kicking thunderstorms. I as you know have a healthy fear of thunderstorms and have also have had a computer fried because I left it on during one.

That said, yes I touched a wolf yesterday. Her name was Denahee.
The folks from Wolftalk did a program at the library. They brought in a wolf cub and a full grown wolf and talked about wolves and such. The cub was terrfied and peed all over the place. The adult was raised to used to humans and was very playful. The couple giving the talk brought their 2 year old daughter and she had no fear of her.

I have mixed feelings about this... in my gut I fear this relationship between this "tame" wolf and this family could backfire. There are many issues with a wild animal never really being tame and the child never fully understanding what it means to fear a wild animal. But these people have a long history with these animals and who am I to tell someone how to raise their kid. I just hope it all works out for the best.

At the end of the program everyone attending the program got to pet the wolf. It was very cool and she was indeed a sweetheart. I just hope she never turns on her humans.

I took a ton of pictures adn hope to have the best ones up soon.

Who on earth would do this to a poor little innocent baby?

Oh, alright, we probably would...

So how do I follow up yesterdays post?
Shall I write about the truly annoying conversation I had with someone tonight? Nah... How about the uber-asshole that tied up a cashier for a full 15 minutes and made her clean the conveyor belt before he put his precious groceries on it last night at Stop & Shop? Tempting but maybe tomorrow...

Instead I'll just let y'all know that I've posted photos that I shot of the Lantern Festival held every July at The Forest Hills Cemetery.


Click on image for more!

Open Houses

So as some of you may or may not know Ron and I have started exploring the idea of buying a house. We are at the very beginning of this process and have started going to open houses to see just what a home we can afford might look like.

Today we managed to hit 5 open houses and it was educational and in some cases quite startling... scary even.

House #1 - It's a ranch on a very busy road and kind of boring from the outside. Inside we discover the floor in the living room slopes dramatically towards the outer wall. The kitchen wallpaper has an "outdoorsman" theme to it. There is an awesome vintage aluminum and formica table in the dining room with matching chairs and would buy it from the homeowner in a second.

Upstairs has been converted from an attic to office and storage space (or a room of forgetting)and we learn that the house was built in 1850 and was the first firehouse in the town. That's pretty cool and we can appreciate the history. There's even photos of the how it looked originally. The basement is sketchy and Ron kept hitting his head on pipes and beams. The bedrooms were small and I have two words: sponge paint.

I have nothing against sponge paint, I even have a room in my current home painted this way. It's poorly done sponge paint I cannot condone. You know, half-assed sponge paint where you can clearly see the outline of the sponge against the lighter color beneath. It's almost as bad as paneling. I hate paneling.

House #2 - A big-ass condo. Outside looks like a cheap New Hampshire motel. I scan the parking lot for hookers. This place has a $400+ condo fee and the grounds so far do not justify this cost.

Inside is BIG. Really big. It looks like it might have been a really swingin' pad in the 1970's. The only thing this place has going for it is how damn big it is.

House # 3 - Let's skip house #3 for now... I want to save it for a grand finale. Here's a teaser: despair.

House #4 - A lovely mansard style house. It is nowhere near a commuter rail station and is a little on the pricey side. It has a shared driveway with what was the garage for the home in the back, but is now a home in it's own right. Apparently there is some bank activity going on with that home so there is an oppurtunity to purchase that as well and reunite the properties. We can't afford to do that so we run the risk of getting nasty neighbors sharing our driveay.

This house is pretty, but it's old. There are only two ways to decorate such a home: formal or funky. We tend to lean towards funky. This home has two kitchens, the second of which is mainly being used as a laundry room. The main kitchen has no cupboards but the pantry has enough to hold everything you could think of. The sink is also in the pantry, which I don't love. It's rather old fashioned actually, but we can appreciate that. The tin ceilings were gorgeous.

The gentleman representing the house of course knew Ron's parents. This was bound to happen sooner or later and this fellow used to go church with them. He said the house has "been owned by christians for a long time so it has a good vibe to it." Um, yeah... nice try, but that isn't exactly a selling point with us.

House #5 - Another condo. Expensive and kind of generic but in a good location. Parking sucks. The realtor was kind enough to give us a booklet full of other condos in the area in the same price range which could be worth investigating.

Now to take a deep breath and talk about house #3.


*breathe*


Where to begin?

My friend Miss H used to write a zine about visiting open houses and I recall a particular issue about a house full of sadness and despair. A house so filthy and disgusting that no one would ever in their right mind purchase it. I believe we have found such a house.

The ad said it was a fixer-upper and I know I at least thought to myself "how bad can it be?" The hornets nest in the corner of the front door should have been a dead giveaway. Or perhaps the rotting carport... maybe the screen door that contained no glass, nor a screen. There were many red flags and today we learned to trust our gut instinct while still in the driveway, safely strapped into our car.

We go up the side stairs under the carport and the place looks deserted. There is a car in the driveway with realtor signs in the back seat so we know someones here. We go around front and ring the bell. No one comes to the door. We wait a few moments and turn to leave when the door opens and a small frumpy woman with white skunk stripe roots ushers us in.

First impression as I walk up the small flight of stairs of this split level ranch is "Hmmm... pretty dark wood floors, too bad they're scratched all to hell." I get to the top of the stairs and look up and around and think to myself "OH.MY.FUCKING.GOD."

The word squalor does not quite do the room justice. There is shit everywhere. The woman ushers us over to a table and asks us to sign in, turning on a light as she does so. It is the only light in the house not coming from the grimy windows. More filth is revealed when the light hits the table.

Most realtors at this point would be disclosing information about the condition of the house or at least apologizing for it's condition but she acts as if it's the most normal house in the world. She begins to tell us that she has to sell the home for personal reasons. Just when I thought this couldn't get any more awkward, now we know that not only is she the realtor, but she's also the homeowner. GREAT. She is the Sy Sperling of houses.

We head into the small kitchen. It's dark in here and the woman says so fast that I can't tell where she's from that the cupboards are new and I smile and try to be polite and say "Hmm... that's a pretty color" I flash Ron a look that says Flee! Flee! The only way it could be any more disgusting is if she had cats. I didn't see or smell any, thank the gods.

We are led down the hall to the bedrooms. The first one has kids bunk beds in it and they are loaded with crap and blankets are draped over the whole mess. Ron later says that the saddest part was that there may actually be kids living there. Her bedroom is pretty tidy in the grand scheme of things and the last bedroom is yet another room of forgetting. It was full of junk and Ron says he saw an autoclave in there next to more realtor signs. I didn't look that closely.

Considering the whole time I was thinking to myself over and over "Don't touch anything" I was not going investigate the bathroom. I'm not particularly cootie crazy, but this place was bad enough to consider becoming a germaphobe.

But wait! There's more!

She takes us downstairs. Ron and I are trying to be swift but polite. This woman obviously has problems and she'll probably get shit on enough in trying to sell this house and she doesn't need to hear it from us.

The lower level has an "office" and another bathroom and a laundry closet. She is talking very fast and non-stop, as if this is her one big chance to sell this place and she's trying to point out the charms of the house as fast as she can, even suggesting turning this office into a master bedroom.

Next stop is the family room. This room is relatively clean compared to the rest of the place and there is a lovely wood burning stove surrounded by tile at the far end. She says she paid $2000 for the stove.

There is an alcove at the end of this room and she says she used it as an "office" and she proceeded to tell us that she was in the middle of redecorating it. You could tell by the crap on the floor that she ripped out some stuff and started the project but hadn't been back to it in months. She says something about being from Ireland where they don't have basements and that she wasn't used to having one, as if it explains the debris on the floor.

As we turn to leave this room and head back upstairs we see the Christmas tree. Yes, you read that right. A fully decorated fake Christmas tree. Now don't get me wrong, the tree was lovely, a little oasis of cheer in this pit of dispair even, but um... it's JULY. It was the white elephant in the room and no one mentioned it.

So we make our way back to the landing and as I go to shake this woman hand and bid her farewell I notice she looks like she's about to cry. Just when I think we are able to make a fast getaway Ron runs back up the stairs to get her business card. I find out once we get back to the car that the only reason he did this was to find out what her name was and avoid any listings with her name on it. I won't post it here because like I said, she has problems, and she could probably use all the breaks she can get, but if you ask nicely I'll tell it to you.

As we are heading out to our car Ron mutters under his breath to me "Do you have any Purell?"

I Scream!

Today is National Ice Cream Day!

Star Wars meets Fine Art

Click image for more!

It's made out of PAPER!!!

Click on image for parts and instructions.

We went to see Batman: The Dark Knight last night and all I can say is HOLYFUCKINGWOW!

Ow.

I forgot what it was like to lug aroung equipment for 5 hours while hoisting a 4 pound camera to my face all night. Using the nig-ass lens that adds an extra 2+ pounds didn't help.

I feel like I have been beaten from head to toe with a broom handle.

This is For Carol

Tonight we went to the Lantern Festival at The Forest Hills Cemetery. What an amazing and beautiful event. I took a ton of pictures which I hope to get sorted out soon. Stay tuned!

Tomorrow night we are off to see the new Batman film! More nerd cred, yo!

I Got Nuthin'

Really. Nuthin' to say...
Time for bed.
G'night!

Lazy Little Bitch

I don't feel like doing shit today. My get up and go has got up and went. I am still sitting here in my bathrobe when I should be getting ready for work.

I just want to sit in the house for a week where it is relatively cool and make things. I don't want to go to work. I want to putter in the studio from one thing to the next, wherever my moody mood takes me. I need to get my hands dirty. I need to tinker.

But first I need to shower and eat something.

Queen of The Nerds

Not much to say tonight other than my entries for the last week or so are proof of my nerdiness. I am Queen of The Nerds.

Now if only I could have an army of nerd drones to do my bidding.

Mwa-ha-ha-ha!!!!!!!

Hellboy

We went to see Hellboy this afternoon with Alexi and I have to say it was a tad disappointing. Don't get me wrong, it was still beautifully shot and visually stunning but it just didn't hold together well. Guillermo del Toro is a visual wizard and I can't wait to see what he come up with for The Hobbit. It was also more love story than action flick... which is fine, but not what I was expecting. It was fun, but I'm not in a hurry to see it again.

Now Batman on the other hand... Now there's some high expectations to fulfill. It better not suck.

Tonight I present to you....
It's Lovely, I'll Take it!

A fun little blog of poorly chosen real estate photos complete with the listings they came from. My favorite is the photo of the bathroom from a $500,000 home and they didn't think to flush the toilet. It kind of reminds me of Obscene Interiors.

Oh My Fraking God!

Click HERE to buy one!

A Dose of AWESOME!

This totally brightened my day!

Elfquest, The Movie?

Okay, okay... I know that headline may be hard to believe for some of you out there. I hardly believe it myself. Click HERE to learn more.

We have been down this road a few times now... well, more like five or six times and it gets harder to believe each time I hear this fantastic comic book series is FINALLY going to be made into a movie. Every time I raise my eyes to the heavens and say a small prayer to the gods that if it FINALLY does come to fruition to please, please, please don't let it suck.

This is the 30th anniversary of this series by the way and through this latest news article I have discovered that the creators, Wendy & Richard Pini, are putting the entire series online. FOR FREE. You can read it HERE. And while there is no substitute for reading an actual, physical book the originals are so hard to find that I recommend you read them no matter what form you find them in.

I remember when I was about 12 or 13 years old my best friend Sharon had the first four graphic novels and she wouldn't let me read beyond the first book. She was determined to make me wait for each new issue to come out as Marvel re-released them in the mid 1980's.

What she doesn't know is that while pet sitting for her family while they were on vacation I snuck into her room and read all four of them in one afternoon. I eventually saved enough money between Christmas, my birthday, and walking a rather large half-pitbull, half black lab named Hank that I was terrified of each week to purchase all four of those first books for myself. I still have these four original books and they are my loaner copies. And speaking of loaner copies, it's about time to introduce my almost 12 year old nephew to The World of Two Moons!

So while I have been waiting many years for an Elfquest movie to come out, I have been burned before, and I fear I will be burned again. I am hopeful, I am optimistic, but I am not going to hold my breath. I will wait as long as necessary for this to become a reality.... if only it doesn't suck.

Boobies

Neat Street Art!

I have a soft spot for street art and this is especially clever!
Click HERE to see!

A Grim Reminder on a Grim Anniversary

There has been alot of buzzing on the "inter-webs" lately about the state of things in the UK in regards to photography and I thought it was time to mention it here. If you are not yet aware there hass been increased harrasment of photographers over there and the government even ran the ad shown above a while back.

What prompted this post this morning was THIS POST about their government leaving the decision to allow local authorities decide what photography is permitted or not. Lovely. So if some bobby is having a bad day he can unleash his anger on some unsuspecting photographer. GREAT. It is completely by coincidence that today is the anniversary of the 2005 London Bomb Blasts.

The funny thing is that in the UK there are CCTV cameras everywhere, even in the woods! There is little expectation of privacy anywhere in the UK and while we were there last summer we found it a little unnerving.

But don't think for a moment it isn't like that here... Thomas Hawk writes about this issue frequently HERE and his blog is very interesting in general. Check out THIS ARTICLE he wrote back in January.

And it isn't just photographers... have any of you ladies been harrased for carrying a purse into a museum of historic site yet? I was not allowed to wear my purse across my back while at Gettysburg this past April. I had to carry it over one shoulder. The reason given was simply some ranger guy stating "9-eleven" How is wearing a purse over one shoulder safer than across my back? If anything I could launch it into a crowd of people far easier that way, but I am slipping into another topic here so I'll stop.

At school were were taught to stand up for our rights as photographers and to my knowledge as long as you are standing on public property you can photograph whoever and whatever you want. (Keep in mind that I am not a lawyer folks, this is just what I've been told) Whether or not you can use those images for profit is another matter, but you can shoot them. There's a great document you can print out and carry HERE if you are so inclined.

Back in the mid 1990's when Ron was in art school I thought of a photo project called "Who's Watching Who" where I would photograph security cameras. I never got that project off the ground... maybe now I should?


THIS PHOTO submitted by tube rider Alex Chadwick moments after the bombings of July 7th 2005 will stick in my mind forever. It even made the front page of the New York Times. See the rest of his set HERE.

We live in scary times people and they are just getting scarier. How long before we lose all of our freedoms in the name of protecting them?

Anthony Bourdain's No Reservations!

New season starts tomorrow night at 10pm on the Travel Channel! Yeah, I love this show.

Click on Anthony's meat for more info!

Savage Chickens Indeed

Up Yours Kayla

We got two collect phonecalls from some broad named Kayla at Suffolk County Corrections at 9:00am this morning. No one, I repeat NO ONE, who knows us knows not to call before noon on a Sunday unless it is some sort of emergency.

So you can imagine our reaction when we get his call not once, but twice. Fortunately I'm betting she gets two shots at a phone call then she has to turn the phone over to the next prisoner in line. I also bet we'll get two more such calls next Sunday morning.

A small part of me thinks I ought to have accepted the call and told her she had the wrong number, afterall, shit happens and we all make mistakes and she is in prison paying her debt to society for whatever thing she did and maybe she's trying to call her mom and keeps miss dialing it and maybe someone should do something nice and at least tell her she's got the wrong number. It may also prevent repeat awakenings at 9am on Sunday mornings.

But another part of me thinks fuck it, it's 9 in the fucking morning and most reasonable people are asleep, hungover or at church (we fell into the asleep category) and seeing as she was calling from prison most of the folks she probably knows would appreciate a 9am wake up call on a Sunday morning even less then we do. Who knows what the hell she's in prison for and if she finds out she dialed a working phone number of someone nice enough to accept a collect call to tell her she dialed the wrong number she may think I'm her new best friend and start calling every week just to chat or worse yet, start asking for favors.

And the funny part is I drive by the only women's prison in the state on my way to work every day... I don't know what they are calling the place these days but if she isn't in one of the smaller local holding jails awaiting trial then that's where she was calling from so now I am going to think of this Kayla chick everytime I drive by and wonder who she is and what she did.

Thanks for waking us up Kayla. Thanks a lot.

Update: She called again in the afternoon. I hung up.

FUCK YEAH!

Watch this quick! I'm betting it gets pulled before the day is over. NSFW!

A Nice, Relaxing 4th of July

Today was a great day!

Slept in a little, cleaned the studio up some, did laundry, Ron did dishes and cleaned the kitchen, and then we picked blueberries in the backyard. BLUEBERRIES!!!! So yummy! Two of the bushes had big, fat ripe berries that just fell off in our hands. The rest should ripen over then next couple of days and Ron looked up a great sounding recipe for blueberry muffins online. Can you say muffins for breakfast?

We also had a nice dinner and watched a movie. Now it's time for bed.

Happy 4th y'all!

It's been a helluva week, but now it is over.

Sometimes I wonder if the extra work involved in preparing for a holiday day off is really worth it. You work your tits off all week long so you don't get behind because you have one less day of work during a holiday week. Garbage collectors get a raw deal though... they get a day off, but then they have to work the following day. I bet they get killer overtime pay though.

Oh what the hell... you know what they say! A bad day off is better than a good day at work! Enjoy your holiday everyone!

Love

True love is when you can say to someone "I didn't mean to punch you in the neck" and they believe you.

This is just awesome!

I may have posted the first one ages ago, but this one is simply brilliant!


Where the Hell is Matt? (2008) from Matthew Harding on Vimeo.