Hot or not
Red state, blue state
I had a frightening dream last night: Someone came up to me and said, “The nation’s at war!”
“Oh, no,” said I, “who is it this time? Iran? North Korea?”
“No,” said they, “Florida and Texas. They just bombed the hell out of New York State.”
My dream self was utterly unsurprised. “Those damn Republicans,” I said aloud.
Previous halloween blog designs
2005
2004
my new haircut
It’s passive-aggressively blurry.
Post every day I will.
M. Kennedy has declared November NaBloPoMo — National Blog Posting Month, in which you post an entry a day for the whole month. I thought it sounded like fun.
Since it’s still October, I have given myself permission to be lazy and sporadic until Nov. 1.
Totally unrelated to everything: Last night I had this dream that I bought the Decemberists’ latest album, The Crane Wife, and took it to my neighborhood Shoneys, where I bought a pack of cigarettes and a beer from an overly solicitous barkeep, and settled down on a dirty sofa next to a pair of townies who were quite loudly making out. I and a score of other people, also on couches, turned our attention to the television, where a cast of middle-aged men in red spandex superhero suits were attempting to act out the narratives contained within The Crane Wife, thus bringing us, strangely yet comfortingly, full circle.
I am post-operative!
*blearf* And a little woozy!
I had a little bump excised from the top of my head on Friday, what the kids are calling a little “surgical excision,” you know, slice ‘em and dice ‘em, shoot ‘em up and toss ‘em out.
Yes, head surgery. Makes for a lovely weekend of Tylenol and sleep and pretty much nothing else. Just a few things stand out from my trip to the ol’ dermatologist:
1. That some crazy old broad in the hospital parking lot kept calling me “guy” and asking me to come over and, uh, lift her car up, or remove the engine, or something ridiculous. I mean, just because I have a short-ish haircut (by the way, i got my haircut — found a new hairstylist and she’s Russian and I am never ever letting go) … just because I have short hair and tend to dress like an uninspired little gay man does NOT mean I am a guy. And no, hon, I can’t fix your car. I’m late for my surgical excision.
2. Actually, I was an hour and a half early. ME. Early. I even tried to use that time to make an appointment with another doctor I need to see soon but got connected to the gift shop instead and just kind of gave up.
3. My doctor likes my haircut. And my scalp wound didn’t bleed at all! I’m the best surgical patient evar.
4. The surgery was on a 2.5mm spot right on the top of my head, the “midline”, the Midline of midlines, where the North Pole would be if my head were a globe and not tilted on any sort of strange axis. And when the doc was all done, his assistant put a tiny, circular bandage on top of the stitches. And I left the hospital, driving myself home which I totally should not have done, wearing what looked like the world’s tiniest, jauntiest, fleshiest-colored hat.
It’s Sunday now and I’m feeling much better, except in some ways I’m also feeling much worse, but that’s a topic for another day. Have a good week or two, until I see you again.
Odiferous attack
I quit smoking this week. Go me! Except, two things. One, don’t fucking talk to me right now because I am a quivering ball of withdrawal-rage. Okay. Two? I can smell the world again. But being able to tell from a sniff that the guy next to me had bratwurst for lunch — you know what? That’s not such a happy tradeoff.
Welcome to the Hall of Mammals
We took a little family day trip into D.C. yesterday. We rode the Metro into Adams Morgan for lunch, and then stopped by the insanely crowded Crafty Bastards festival. Xiobhan drove past us, shouting hellos across the street, and I could see little Beck chillin’ in the back seat. Debbie and two of her three boys were at the 60 Bugs booth, rocking it as always, and Deb gave Owen a pink balloon which, quite frankly, gave the Metro a run for its money in terms of entertainment value.
After that we popped over to the Smithsonian for some Natural History Museum action, eager to get our science on. It’s a pretty decent museum any day of the week, but it’s beyond amazing when you see it through the eyes of a toddler. I’d cut off both my legs to see him excited like that again.
The flickr set is here.
Protected: RustBelt situation FUBAR
recent flickr
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my sewing tutorials
See my tutorials featured on SMS' Handmade Holidays!
