Thursday, April 29, 2010

"Well Doc, whaddaya think?"

"You really think the Asians want your eyebrows?"

"Why- I don't know. Corporate secrets woven into the strands, perhaps. Seems like a strange place to hide them. I wear make-up every day- things must be getting all smudged up."

"Yeessssssssssssss, eyebrows don't really seem a suitable hiding place for corporate secrets." His fingers were touched together in the steeple position. "How do you suppose these people, masquerading as salon technicians, got the secrets in your eyebrows annnndddddd how are they getting them out?"

"Well, I'm sure they'll use the transmitter they implanted in my toenail to send out a confusing sonic noise that will distract me."

"A confusing sonic noise? From your toenail? A transmitter?"

"I'm thinking so!" I turned my head and gave the doctor a slight wink. "Of course its just a theory."

"Here's my theory, Mrs. Mikowski-"
I winced. No one calls me that, it makes it harder to deny my age when I'm addressed that way.

"You're on the hunt for a script."
This is definitely awkward....I looked down and to the side.

"What are you serving today?" I say meekly.

He scribbled on his pad. "This should take care of your issues, Mrs.Mikowski." Cringing again, I took the little square of paper. "And, Mrs. Mikowski-"


"Never, ever, call my office again."

"Thank you, Doctor" I say graciously waving the script in from of my warm cheeks.

Just then I felt a tug on my shirt.

"Mooooommm-" I look down at Kayla with some annoyance as usual. "What?" "When is the doctor going to talk to me? Isn't this my appointment?"

"Oh Kayla, why does everything have to be about you? Come on, we have to go find you a new doctor. This one is all used up!"

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Real Quick-

I know you all think I really did die or was hauled off to the crazy house for my rant about Jack Bauer and my disappointment in his performance. I was a little tired, I have to say in my defense, and honestly, that episode was so bad that it really struck me as funny. And as Chinamommy can attest to- I have no tolerance for wimpy men. Really, if he thought this girlfriend would die like all the others after consummation of that particular act then he should have just offered her a polite handshake and sent her on her way. Selfish and pathetic- he was. But enough about him!

Because I really wanted to share this picture of Chinamommy and I arranging flowers for the wedding. She saved my butt by allowing herself to be co-erced into working as a florist again. 35 arrangements we womped out that night and they were gorgeous. Kinda like us!

That's a french fry sticking out of her mouth- I went vegetarian and ate my work.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

I am not sleeping with Jack Bauer and you can't make me!

Because his penis is the kiss of death, apparently. Last week when I was MIA from blogland I did happen to catch the episode where Jack and the girl secret agent finally, finally had a minute in the 24hr day to have sex.

I have to give the guy a break, he's been through a lot in the last few years. No one can argue the guy is tough. And smart. And always makes the right decision. I can understand his love life has been a little up and down. First his wife was murdered by his friend at work. Then he had a love interest for a couple of seasons but she was kidnapped by terrorists and tortured for months when he finally found out and rescued her she was a bit damaged. Even though he loved her Jack decided to walk away, literally, for her own good.

So some of his lovers have died, others have gone crazy- I can understand he's a little gun shy. On this episode Jack and Renae are done. Done catching terrorists. They decide to go back to his place. Jack is awkward. He asks if she's hungry. Hellooooo- hungry for you, big boy, stop stuttering about food. She takes over. Its still awkward. I think the producers were going for tender. Reticent, perhaps. Unwilling to open up and be unguarded. I don't know. But it was the most AWKWARD love scene I have ever seen. And then they were done. There they were, fleshy face to freckeled face and he says "Man, I'm thirsty, how about you? You stay here, I'll get us a drink, don't move!"

At this point I am laughing out loud because I know its coming! For a great action show this episode is way too predicable! Why? Why couldn't the man have just one love affair last longer than first awkward sex night? And if I could say- awkward- one more time! I wanted to hit him upside his waxy little head! REALLY, Jack Bauer? All these times you've saved the U.S. and the best you can muster up is an offer to feed her? Pick her up and throw her up against the wall you big, terrorist thwarting, super star! Why do I have to tell you this? You are no spring daisy! You've been around the block! She isn't going to die if you touch her! Seriously- I wanted to punch him just to make him man up a bit! And then, after finally getting the girl the best conversation he can make is how thirsty he is? Don't get up honey because an assassins bullet is going to come through the window and kill you now that I have desecrated your foreign lands!

Well, long story short, a bullet came through the window and killed Renae and now Jack has stolen a helicopter to get revenge but I argue the point that- maybe, maybe she chose to not "hang on" because if that is all the better sex with a super spy is going to be then why, why "hang on"?

I went astray at the car wash. And that's ok.

Saturday, the morning of the wedding I took the ole' Subaru through the car wash. Car wash facilities intimidate me slightly (like the Asians) because I fear there is some small potential for me to screw up. Really, give me something with exact directions that even an idiot could follow and I start to sweat. You know the fear, the same one that you'll stand up to give a speech and your pants will fall down and you'll have forgotten to wear underwear. (Silly fear- as if the daughter of a 1960's repressed Catholic housewife would ever forget to wear underwear- one time with the chastity belt and you'll never undervalue a good pair of white cotton underwear!)
Back to the car wash- I never really get my tire lined up with the track exactly correct. The guy always has to do a lot of waving me back and forth with a polite smile on his face. I would be more embarrassed but hey, at least I don't work at a car wash and at the end of the ride I'm driving away.

This ride included a Mexican tour guide. For some reason (lack of sleep, maybe?) I forgot to read line number three and did not put my car in to neutral. The car wash made a strange noise and completely shut down. I looked up, startled. My polite Mexican guy pointed at line three and smiled. I complied.

Half way through the wash I was already bored. I noticed my camera and remembered there were pictures of Chinamommy and myself doing flowers for the wedding. As I was zooming in on the french fry stuck out of her mouth and thinking what great blog material this would be I realized something was off. I had been in the same spot for a really long time in car-wash terms. I looked up. While I had entered the car wash headed in a Southerly direction now my car was pointed in in a South West direction.

Apparently, I had really screwed something up when I had attempted to line up with the track. What would I do? Would five or six car wash employees come running up along side me to wave me back on? Would one throw open my door instructing me to get out while they drove my car back on telling me I had no business driving a car if I can't get through a simple car wash? Oh, I don't think so! I've been on the wrong side of worse vehicular situations than this! There's a reason I drive an all wheel drive Outback and its not just because it makes me think of all those keg parties out back of the woods!

My mantra has always been "If you don't get caught then no one can prove you really did it." I put my car in drive and got the hell out of that car wash and didn't look back. I had a lot of water spotting for a seven dollar car wash but like Scarlett O'Hara, I filed that under "I'll think about that tomorrow."

The Asians want my eyebrows!

Remember on Grey's Anatomy when Christina was preparing to marry Burke? Burke's mother was a force to be reckoned with and used to getting her way. The episode showed a short snippet of her entering the room to have a traditional mother in law/daughter in law chat before the wedding and the next scene was Merideth entering the room to a bedraggled Christina who looked up and plaintively said "Momma took my eyebrows."

I've only ever had three pedicures. The last one was this past week. There was a wedding. I have a weird toe and the heels of a dragon. It was necessary even though I always thought that manicures and pedicures were for women of money and would never pay to have someone else do my grooming because I wasn't rich yet. Well, I'm starting to think the whole "rich" or "comfortably well off" may never happen. So, even though its not the fiscally responsable choice I decided to break the seal and have someone else scrape years of waiting for wealth off the bottom of my feet.

The first time I had my feet done was also for a wedding. When the woman asked me what the occasion was and I told her she looked at my face and screamed at me "You wanna a wax brow?"

People who know me know I have a fear of the Asians. I always think they are yelling at me and I don't want to do anything to offend anyone, least of all someone of a different nationality. Put that with being raised by a 1960's repressed Catholic housewife- sometimes, just sometimes I am intimidated in social situations. Like in the presence of someone I can't understand, who screams what sounds like a command at me but ends the sentence with a question. I am totally befuddled. I just want them to like me. I want to be the ambassador of good relations. I just want everyone to love everyone else.

But you can't have my eyebrows. I have, cross that out, had, beautiful eyebrows. Now my daughter has them and I have wimpy, thinning eyebrows with a fairly nice shape and a bald spot on one. So you can't have what's left of them. NO.

I said No. She said, "you want we make them nice, we clean them up". I noticed that hers were drawn on with a sharpie marker. "MMM, how much?" I said like I was considering it. "Eight dollar" "How long?" "Tree minute" I took a breath an pulled up an extra little bit of courage out my newly polished toes and said "No." It kills me it really does. I can't take the pressure. I wasn't born into a bartering nation and I don't have the skills. But, I love what's left of my eyebrows and I'm even keeping the hairs that have moved over to my temples. Thank you, please put away your sharpie marker.

That was last summer. I thought it was a one time incident but last week it happened again. I mentioned wedding, the girl went straight to wax. I said no- a few times. Once again, saved my eyebrows. Who knew taking care of a weird toe nail would endanger my eyebrows.

All the random thoughts and events from last week-

So now that I am used to sharing those strange thoughts and opinions that wander through my head I've found that its a little hard not to. Am I addicted to blogging? Could be- I've always said I had an addictive personality but not much follow through. Point in case my mother was afraid I would be an alcoholic because her father was. It skips a generation, ya know. (Nowadays, thanks to the television series- "Rescue Me" I understand my Grandfather wasn't really an alcoholic- he was IRISH!) Does this mean that my daughter will scream like a ninny every time she sees a bat? Not if she wants to live long, she won't. By the way- was that yet another way my mother screwed me up by forecasting an addiction to alcohol? Good thing the only religion I ever followed was the religion of doing exactly the opposite of anything my mother wanted me too! Well, maybe not so good- she wanted me to be a nurse because that seemed glamorous to women of her generation. Now, as I sit with a stockpile of unpaid bills in my purse, no medical insurance or paid vacation it occurs to me over and over again that I should have been a nurse. My mother also told me that if I sinned I would go to Hell. This blanket statement seemed to be unreliable as it just didn't make sense. So I tested it. A lot. Thanks, Mom. You couldn't have just said pot makes you do dumb things and sleeping around doesn't gain you anything? Straight forward common sense goes a long way with me.
Now to make up for last week I have made a list of all the subjects I wanted to dissect. To keep things simple I will make short posts on all topics.

Sunday, April 11, 2010

This post is not what you think it is.

Is she done? I'm not sure. Her "hair" is glued on and she has features.

It was my intention with this sculpture to explore paper mache` in a more natural raw form. With the past works I added paper clay to the garment to smooth it out. This one felt like it was calling for texture. So I painted the "fabric" just as it was- a real thin coat of paper mulch over top the wire mesh that created the shape. I liked it.

Do I dare tell you the story of the hair? I drew this lady with wild hair thinking it was a great metaphor for the meaning of the sculpture. Its about realizing you are "The Source". Meaning YOU are the source of the energy that surrounds you. The word kinetic comes to mind but I have yet to look it up and make sure its accurate to this work.

But that's not the story of the hair. You know how, in your work, you need just the right thing? And you also know that you probably won't find it? I do this thing where I rack my brain trying to think of where I would find something I could make into this woman's crazy hair. If not, what could I use to make it? And then how would I make it? It's the whole "Nursery Debacle" all over again.

And then when, lo and behold, praise God, you find the exact thing you need...of course there's a problem. Of Course! Because such is my lot in life, there is always a problem.

I had to steal it. There were no other viable options. Yep. I think you'll understand. I came across this valuable piece in a bathroom. Not just any bathroom but the bathroom at the pyschologist's office where I take Kayla to have her problems fixed. I say it like that because at every meeting there is some point where I put out a non-verbal screaming command "Fix her, Damn it, so I don't have to kill her because she deserves better!!!" We have a great psychologist. I think he may help her over time. But he's not in charge there. So when I am in the bathroom, while she is getting shrinked into less of a problem, and I find the perfect piece of artificial tree branch sticking out of a dusty artificial mixed green arrangement that was ten years old if it was a day- ex-florists unite here, if its in a pressed brass container = its right out of the nineties-what am I to do? Do they need it? Do they even know that it exists, right there in their bathroom? Do they even see it? Who do I ask? The psychologist that I am trying to convince that I am a well balanced mature adult and not the reason for all of Kayla's issues? "Excuse me, may I just take a part of your greenery out of the bathroom to use in my art project? Its old and dusty, your arrangements are falling apart and are very outdated, really, I am doing you a favor and its just two little stems? May I? And, are you done fixing her yet?"

There's no receptionist on duty at night. Do I call in the daytime and explain that the artificial twig in their bathroom is the answer to my artistic dilemma? Would they have to get approval through the head office? Would they just say no? How many times would I have to explain what I was asking? Would the receptionist have to put the phone down while she stepped into the bathroom to figure out what I was babbling about? If they said no, what then?

I sweated it for two weeks. Wrong is wrong. You know it, Self said. When you do something that goes against your core beliefs you hack off a piece of yourself you can't glue back on. I know, Self, but really- you know I am going to do it, you know it. Self said- fine, now here comes the catholic guilt but question...don't you think its odd that one of the reasons you are visiting this particular office is Kayla's sticky fingers? Groan, yes Self, I am sure there is a message and a meaning here and I should take the higher ground because I know better and its the right thing to do. And that's probably why I am going to take it. That, and because its the perfect hair material for my sculpture.

So at the next appointment, after silently screaming to the psychologist "Fix this kid!" I went into the bathroom and stole their artificial branch and stuffed it into my purse. Then I went home and washed it. Did you know that when you flush a toilet that toilet germs whoosh out into the air as far as a 5' radius? And that the required public bathroom stall is at least 5' wide so that a wheel chair can turn fully around? And that a lot of businesses allot only the minimum 5' that is legally required? I am a big proponent of requiring an extra 2'feet that will fit a human who is desperately trying to be just outside that radius- even if it is just an alcove that we can press our bodies into until the germs fall to the ground and we can return to washing our hands with scalding hot water.

So there you have it. PLEASE don't turn me in. I hesitate to even push "publish post" I am trusting in the kindness of fellow bloggers and artists to understand.

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

"Not my problem, Buddy."

Hi Guys! Just checking in real quick. Been carting the fam around G. R. trying to impress them. Being from Long Island, it takes a bit. Their arrival started out a bit rough. After pre-booking a sedan, Budget rental tried to palm off a compact car. As an explanation, "Dean" offered "It's spring break here, we're low on cars." Unimpressed my life long New Yorker Aunt barely lifted an eyebrow and quietly stated "Not my problem, Buddy" and shortly a sedan was procured for them. At some point I am sure coupons for a free rental will arrive in their mail. Wow, I would have had to sulk away and come back with a carefully composed argument about my rights as a customer and how we had entered into a legally binding contract with their company and then thrown in a story about being in town to receive a heart transplant and how small cars made me nervous. Just goes to show how a few well chosen words can save time and effort. Lesson fully absorbed.

On another note- wanted to share with you the results from my last post. Really enjoyed the comments. Thanks, everyone for looking past their resemblance to cancer patients! But when I went poking around site meter I found that I had a very high number of hits from people who didn't stay long. One was from a hotel in Germany. Another was a visitor who had just hopped over from the blog named "Sleek Sluts" and there were a couple other folks who were, I am sure, just as disappointed at what they saw when they hit on "The Swingers". It makes me sad that they won't stay long enough to find out that they really might get a giggle or two from my blog! Or, maybe people like that don't giggle. I don't know. I have had only one known encounter with swingers and trust me, I grabbed my husbands hand and we ran. By the way- why did our encounter have to be with a couple on the down side of middle age and the upside of a couple of beer bellies which unfortunately we had the opportunity to view on both of them! The Mrs. of this couple found it appropriate to wear a hot pink lame` dress with a cut out for the stomach area which apparently she thought was so she could have room in her dress to eat more at the buffet. We were on a cruise (with hubbie's parents, no less, real swingers we were, do the research, people!)and it was later in the hot tub that they caught us alone and started up a friendly conversation. Well, I may be from a small town but I've watched a couple of movies- I knew what was going on! We were outta there!

So be careful with your titles, fellow bloggers, there's weirdos out there! Or, play a little revenge of the nerds and see how many pervs you can trick with your labels! Just be kind. If they are dressed in their best leather chaps, scootin' around looking for a good sex blog- well, too much wasted time on these artsy blogs with the clever titles could result in a case "chapped thighs" for some unlucky person.

Sunday, April 4, 2010

The Swingers

Here's my new project- thought I'd share with you. Don't worry- I will add hair and eyes. They are always the hardest for me so they end up being last.

I do a lot of serious work dealing with 'women's issues' but I like to play too. Remember- I love little girls- that's why I spend so much time hiding out from mine! My grandmother had a story about her mother, called Nana. Nana didn't like her middle name, or lack of a middle name- something like that, so she would collect names she liked to add to hers. My Grandmother would say "and she always said it like this...My name is (her real name which escapes me right now), Anastasia Grace Violet....." there were two more which I can't remember. I am going to have to grill family members to see if anyone can add to my forgotten list. I am thinking of pulling from this list for names for these swinging sista's.

The other real cool thing about my mothers family is that they all had nicknames that were used more than their real names. They were the typical German Irish mix. The boys were Sonny and Buddy (Uncle Buddy to me) and Chickie. Hazel and Helen were sisters, I don't think they had nicknames. There were more nicknames in the gang but I can't make my mind work today. Didn't sleep enough last night!

So I can't decide if these two are Hazel and Helen or Anastasia and Violet (Violet should have purple hair shouldn't she?) You see my dilemma. How do you like the dresses? From someone who can't sew, I'd say these creations are pretty impressive! And I figured out how to keep their bums from showing. I also figured it out for the three teenage girls in church this morning- LONGER SKIRTS, LADIES! Geez, MOM, its your job to make sure their northern parts are covered! I do reserve the right to tell my girls when their skirts are just an inch or six too short. There's a tolerance level for me, I actually like a shorter skirt, but if I think there's a chance of a glimpse... then, no question- it shouldn't be a question. Maybe I am a prude. I still reserve the right to not have that image forever imprinted on my brain.

Really, what was this post about anyways? Oh yeah, I have company coming tommorrow so I thought I'd post today, even though it is Easter. (I'm a rule breaking, non-conforming prude) My Aunt and Uncle are flying in from New York for four days. We're postponing Easter dinner to Monday night and while they don't know it yet- they will also participate in our annual Easter Egg Hunt. I'm very excited for them!

Thursday, April 1, 2010

Early spring

Tonight I sat at the dinner table looking out at this fabulous early warm-up and its effects on the world around me. We live back off the road a ways. We have woods to one side of us and fields on the other three. The land behind us and to the side is owned by a lady who uses it for hay and for riding her horses. In front of us, the man who lives down by the road does a pretty good job of keeping his field mowed down. I prefer the sides that grow wild except for when its time to hay. I like the scrub trees that grow. I like to watch the wind blow through the grass and the different flowers that come into bloom. Its exciting to know that the season is changing and that even though I can't physically see them with my eyes plants are beginning to bud and animals that have burrowed away are starting their spring routine. There's a smell outside that no-one can capture in a perfume bottle and it rides on a breeze that's soft to my skin.
As I sit at the table I have an urge to go outside, walk on the still soft ground and explore these familiar happenings. I may not have ever officially named this ritual of mine but I do it every year. Its my way of knowing living things that can not speak but still have messages for me. I'm realizing just how many years I have done this- I can't even remember when I started this ritual but probably decades ago. I think that I will go for that walk, tonight, even though this spring comes in way too quickly with its balmy temps. Yes, I could do that-but another thought comes to mind distracting me away from my commune with my inner nature-fairy-