Happy Mardi Gras!

Thank you all for your well wishes, I really appreciate it and am actually feeling a little better today. By tomorrow I should be at 100%.

And...........today's Mardi Gras! And not only that it's the 150th anniversary of Mardi Gras in New Orleans! A few years ago the Roommate and I took a little trip to the Big Easy so I'm taking this opportunity to post a couple pictures from that trip. The funny thing was our plane landed 4 hours before hurricane Lulu hit, but it was a fun time none the less. The picture above is of the Roommate and I on the Mississippi River levee by Jackson Square; when the photo was taken we were in the eye of the hurricane. Thank god Lulu was NOT like Katrina.
Just a typical New Orleans day

So, in case you don't know the meaning of Mardi Gras, it's the day before Ash Wednesday and therefore you're last chance to get all your sinning out before Lent. And when Lent rolls around you "give something up" to show your support of Jesus's 40 days and 40 nights of wandering around in the desert. Yeah, I did go to Catholic school, how could you tell? Anyway, so even though I am NOT a practicing Catholic (in case anyone out there is foolish enough to think I am) I do usually give up something for lent just for fun; in the recent past it's been cigarettes, Jack Daniels and Popeye's Fried Chicken (although I was a bit of a backslider on the last one. Damn vodka!). So this morning I was wondering what I should attempt to give up this year and being a typical American I was also wondering what I could give up that would also benefit me, personally. And I came up with the perfect thing! I am please to announce I'm giving up PAYING FOR MY OWN DRINKS this year, so I need all of you to support me in this endeavor. Please pay for any drinks I may request when you see me out at bars. Also, for those not here in Ptown, please send me money, because I seriously need all of you if I plan to make it through lent without breaking my pledge. Only YOU can make this happen.

Thank you in advance for your support. Give it up for Jesus.

Got Dirt (roads)?

I'm sick! I know, you hate that I'm sick and you desperately want to send me flowers or at least a funny card to make me chuckle. That's nice, it really is, and I totally appreciate it but save your money, I'll be ok.

Eventually. But for now I feel like slightly warmed over death.

But I know the heartache of clicking on one of your favorite blogs and seeing the same ol' post that's been there for days (you know who you are) so I will buck up and try and relay a fun sight-seeing trip the Monk and I took this weekend. Guess what we went to see? Waterfalls. Yeah, again only different waterfalls. I asked him if it was a gentle hint that he wanted "golden showers" but he claims no. So, anyway, you know it rains 13 months out of the year here, so we have a lot of water lying around, wishing to jump to it's death from dizzying heights; that's called "thrill seeking water". Yep, lots of water in the Pacific Northwest. This here kamikaze water in the picture to the left (the waterfall's right) is Multnomah Falls. Those little specks of color on the bridge are actual, life-sized people. When the Monk asked why they named it Multnomah all I could come up with is "because Niagara was taken". See I told you I was sick, you really should listen to me.

But it was a fun day and we laughed forever over this one: the Monk was driving my Jeep and out of nowhere he asked "Do they have dirt roads?" and without even thinking I answered "I suppose so" not really knowing what kind of answer was expected. He laughed and said that was a dumb answer and I so no, it was the only answer for his dumb question. I know what he was thinking, about driving the Jeep, wouldn't it be fun to take it off road..........yeah, again sick.

So enjoy your non sick day. If I had any sense I'd take tomorrow off and sleep all day but I adore the extra torture of going to work not feeling well.

Yeah, I'm that sick.

I'm Hung

Last night was the opening of the 4 x 4 show and after the Monk and I got our grooves on (drank beer and wine respectively) we headed to the gallery/art store. The Roommate must have had stage fright because he choose to go to the gym and clean his room instead. Bad move, Roommate, as there was FREE wine and beer at the show (what with it being a show and all), but I digress. When we arrived at the entrance we were greeted by a wall of little tiny paintings, a portion of which is shown below:

Ohhh, what cute and tiny paintings there are! I've been to many a show* but never before have I been to one where the initial thought was "oh, look how miniature and cute!". It was almost underwhelming, but in a good way. Of course. The first painting that caught my eye was the Roommate's "Francis Sleeps", at the lower left portion of the photo above; also please see the detail below:

I gotta admit I LOVE this painting, and not because it is a self portrait of the Roommate I just love the color, subject matter placement and the fact that the Roommate stuck out his neck and did the damn thing. It was also his first show, so I really wish he had been there.

We were gazing at "Francis", pointing and marveling at it's beauty when I noticed a photographer taking shots of the work hanging on the wall. I of course stepped back as to get out of the shot, figuring it was one of the artists forever freezing this moment in history. We continued looking at the paintings, which all were quite good (it's amazing how easy it is to do "good" when your canvas is 4 inches by 4 inches), until we found "Zopa".

Now you're probably thinking "How fucking hard is it to find your own damn painting in a small herd of small paintings?"; well let me tell you, it's on the level of "finding the cutest ant". Go ahead and try to conquer that one. So we finally find "Zopa", and talk about it and point at it when a woman introduces herself as "someone's name I can't remember" from the Oregonian (which is the local Portland daily paper) and I realize she's the same chick who was just taking photos because I recognize the camera. She asks our names, I say "Susan" and then she asked for my last name (oh, the chick's name was Kim---I think) and for a moment I wonder why she asks my last name until I tell her and she writes it down. Hmmm. Then she asks the Monk his name and he says "The, t h e, Monk, m o n k" and she writes that down as well. Then she asks if it's ok if she uses us in her article. Yeah, free publicity. Kick ass. And the Roommate is gonna be sooooooooooooo jealous. Now I just need to find out when the article is gonna run in the paper so I can rub someone's nose in it. But of course, we were pointing at his painting when she took the photo, so I guess the joke's on me.

Congrats ROOMMATE for you first show (the Roommate is officially hung, if he wasn't already, which he is). Oh, and the second painting, "Rufus", never made it into the show. Rules are rules, after all.

* I was the VP and treasurer of a group of artists when I lived in Louisisan so I've been to lots of shows. But that's a story for another day. Today is all about Francis and Zopa. I'm so proud I could cry.

Hey there, chubby cheeks!

My friend Michelle just had her lower wisdom teeth taken out on Tuesday. When I say "taken out" I mean shattered, yanked, cut and and smashed out with a hammer. This was not a pretty surgery, evidently. The day after her surgery she sent me a photo of her mouth, filled with gauze and all blow fish-like, but she told me not to show anyone. I told her I was going to post it on my blog and she freaked out a lot so I didn't. (See Michelle, I AM a good friend!) She made the mistake of forwarding it to a guy she works with, mainly because he kept bugging her to send it, so when she at work today her coworkers had printed the photo off, put the photo in her office, taped a copy to her mirror and then made themselves "Michelle" masks that they wore. But still I'm not posting it. I'll be good. Here's what she looked like before she became horribly, horribly deformed.

Maybe if someone bribed me with Jack Daniels and Popeye's, well then just maybe I would post it after all.

One more for the road, please..............

This is funnier than shit. If you like the movie, buy a shirt.

Oh, I remembered what I was going to write; of course I didn't remember until AFTER I hit the "publish post" button. Anyway, evidently Sarahbeth caught Leigh's crud this weekend (probably while they were spooning on the couch) but she already planned this trip to Big D. We all know how horrible it is to get on a plane with a sicky-sickerson, so I told her to buy a bunch of Airborne and sell them for $5 a tab on the plane! I'd buy one from some poor bloke hacking and coughing their fool head off because you know who extra easy it is to catch something on a plane---easier than catching VD from a toilet seat*. Of course they'd be allowed to retrieve their tab from the tube by themselves for a $1 extra.

PS. I spell checked this post and aside from the "sicky-sickerson", and a couple proper names, I spelled everything right!



* Remember that "myth" from those old health class films we had to watch in Jr. Hi? My favorite was filmed in the late 1960s and had a theme song that went "Don't give a dose, to the one you love most....."

Oh, Update Time!

I forgot to tell ya, the voice? Still all wiskey and cigaretty. Evidently "fuckpants" is a pretty powerful word and not to be toyed with. Will should have warned me but I have a feeling he hadn't ever overused it like I did this past weekend. Let that be a lesson to you all! Don't fuck with "fuckpants"!

Also, tonight is the opening of the 4 x 4 show! I never found out if they accepted my second painting or not so I guess it'll be a surprise. I'll need to remember to take a photo and post it tomorrow to prove to all you nay-sayers (I know you're out there) that I actually got accepted to a show. The Monk is sick, so I'm not sure if I'm going to let him go or not yet. He better be taking his medicine and sleeping like I ordered him to.

And one last thing, Sarahbeth's just gone to Dallas to visit her family, so she may not post too much until she comes back early next week. So be patient with her. I was going to add something to this part but I forgot.

And as a reminder, Tuesday is Mardi Gras. Don't forget to wear your beads to work and make everyone wonder what you did to earn them!

I'm going to be all brave-like and not even spell check this post. Feel free to let me know via comments if I misspelled anything. In case I haven't mentioned it before, I'm a world class misspeller. Michelle, you're not allowed to point out my misspellings because you enjoy doing that too much.

S in Seattle has a blog!

This is my friend S from Seattle; because she now has a blog she can now be know here as Sarahbeth. You probably remember reading about her and how she got into the Seahawks' playoff game, so now you can put her own voice to all the
shenanigans she gets herself into. Oh, and in case you can't tell, she's hot and lets me touch her boobs for beer (Will, got beer?).

I am so slammed at work that this may very well be the only post I'll do today, so I hope you enjoyed it. Make sure to check out Sarahbeth's blog and post lots of comments so she won't be like SOMEONE ELSE WE KNOW who will remain nameless and doesn't post that regularly.

Random thoughts from the Party Weekend from HELL:

The secret surprise we were planning on bringing to S in Seattle on Friday? Was it a man? No. Illegal drugs? No. Moonshine? No. Underage Philippians whores? No, better than all those put together. POPEYE's FRICKEN' FRIED CHICKEN! We were planning on stopping in Tacoma to pick some up and take to S's apartment for a booze infused food orgy, but the weatherman or Jesus had other plans. High winds caused a power outage for the shopping plaza that houses Popeye's, which caused the store to be closed on what would have been a very profitable night for them. I've been craving fried chicken ever since but luckily I have a Popeye's within drooling distance of the house.

All that partying and screaming of "fuckpants" this weekend has left me a little hoarse. I've got a sexy "whiskey and cigarettes" voice that the Monk has taken a liking to. Since the voice went away on Sunday and here it is Tuesday and it's still MIA, I'm assuming I will have a sexy voice from now on. Bonus.

Frankie showed S his weenie this weekend. We burst in the bathroom in an attempt to catch a glimpse while he showed but he screamed and hid it. He ended up dropping trou in a bar but I think I was too plastered to remember seeing it, but S does.

I miss S and Rusty since they moved north and I want them to move back. But on the other hand then I won't be going to Seattle anymore to visit them. Ah, the dilemmas!

Leigh is not allowed to wake us up at ungodly hours anymore. Take a Sominex.

I'm not sure who was happier to see me return from my weekend, the Monk or Rufus. Since neither humped my leg, I guess it's a draw.

Party weekends are fun. Wait, "party" with "weekend" is redundant. Sorry. The Roommate needs to go with next time. The Monk too.

I've been accepted.........

Both the Roommate and I had our artwork accepted into the 4x4 show. Yea! We are artists! The fact that the curator was 25 pices short of their goal of 100 submissions had nothing to do with ours being welcome with open arms. I'm almost sure of it. The Roommate was going to drop them off today and the show starts Thursday. Everyone (in town) needs to go to the opening this Last Thursday!

"Them Texas girls can party........."

Me, Jeffe, S, Leigh and Frankie

I somehow managed to survive the weekend in Seattle but only just barely. I managed to partially lose my voice, probably from yelling "Fuckpants" at strangers at the top of my lungs. Yep, stole that from Will and it was the "word of the weekend", usually used in combinations with other words, like "Shut the fuck up, Fuckpants!". Seattle will never be the same.

We started out the weekend at Peso's---Etip, Jayson, Heffe and Rusty joining S, Leigh, Frankie and I for cocktails Friday evening. It was boy's night and we managed to hijack Etip, Jayson, Rusty and Heffe for a bit but they were headed to the gay bar to pick up girls. Yeah, I don't understand that logic either, but I don't expect everyone to follow my messed up thinking. When Etip found out the chicks were going somewhere other than the gay bar, he jumped ship and joined us, so we ended up at Tini Biggs consuming she-she drinks and unsuccessfully attempting to order hummus. Much drinking ensued and before long we were described by Etip as "three drunk bitches". After that the dog was walked and the car was retrieved, but we don't really know who did what or in what order. S and Leigh spooned on the couch and I did what I do best, passed out.

Etip, Jayson, Rusty

The next morning Leigh woke us up at the ungodly hour of 8:30 because it was time to eat breakfast at the 5 Points. Rusty and Frankie finally met up with us and then Paul showed up eventually as well. We actually started in on the Bloody Marias/Marys at about 9:30 and were well on our way to Drunk-o-ville when I started the Fuckpants bullshit. Highly entertaining for our drunk-off-our-assess selves. We finally left just shy of being cut off/kicked out and wandered to S's apartment for a little regrouping. Which means more drinking. Then off to Pauls to listen to his many albums, and when I say many I mean THOUSANDS and when I say albums I mean "not CDs, either". Paul is a bit of a collector. Around the time of the first beer run we began making harassing calls to the Monk, who was stuck in Portland working. He had long engaging and meaningful conversations with Rusty, Sarah, who knows who else, and has never had the pleasure of meeting any of them yet. Everyone is now a fan of the Monk. Rusty, S and I then left as Rusty had to work and S and I had a party to go to or something. So we went to Pesos and drank until I was telling the guy next to me at the bar "You know you like me" and yelling Fuckpants at passing taxis. That was, oh, about 9:30, maybe earlier and I promptly passed out while S went back out to the bar to act like she was sober.

Texas girls (Leigh is honorary for the weekend)

The next morning S announced she would not be drinking at all. I was not so brave, in fact I needed a hair of the dog. Before long I had consumed all the hairs and S had a few as well. Frankie had left his jacket at a bar the night before so he and I were going to drop in and get it before we headed to pick up Leigh. Turns out you don't need 2 people to pick up a jacket, you need more like 5 or 7 so we all met up for a goodbye cocktail. Hmmm, no wonder I don't feel so good today.
Fun weekend! Muy muy Fun-o! Thanks S, Leigh, Aurora, Rusty, Paul, Etip, et al, but most of all, thank YOU, FUCKPANTS!. Muy fun-o.

She's got a ticket to ride, and she don't care.

If you're interested in the progress of the Rufus Project or just have a few minutes to burn or feel as though you are in dire need of a little moderate punishment, click here. If you are adept at counting you will notice that there are 13 pictures for the month of February. 13? Hmmmm. So far there have been 17 days this month. Does someone not possess math skills? Yes, but that's beside the point. Has someone been a bit of a slacker recently? Yep. Is it a challenge to get a decent shot of Rufus, especially if you're not using a flash? Yes, that fucker can't keep still and I easily deleted 20 unsuccessful shots yesterday evening. Am I growing tired of the subject matter? Hell yes, well, maybe only a little. I won't be posting this weekend as I won't be near a computer, unless they happen to have them in dive bars in Seattle. Hell, it's a progressive city, they very well just might.

So, yes, I am off this afternoon to visit S in Seattle. It's going to be frickin' cold up there but the skies will be clear and the sidewalks dry. I only brought a light jacket with me so I'm sure to "catch my death". Serves me right.

Leigh, Frank and I are going to be springing a surprise on S but I can't tell you now because she'll probably read this and then it wouldn't be much of a surprise, now would it?

Be scared for me. Leigh, Frank and S are all world class drinkers and I'm liable not to keep up. Hopefully I won't pee my pants. Hopefully I'll get to see Rusty, too!

Later.............be good while I'm gone, and bundle up!

One more thing........

.....if you aren't from around here and don't know Storm Large and the Balls, go here for a taste.

Look, there's a chicken................

Random thoughts:

I am a tard. I spent $24 dollars on bath soap today and it got me a whopping 2 bars. I think I will tattoo "sucker for soap" on my forehead so I am easily recognizable to overpriced-boutique sales people.

I'm going to Seattle this weekend with Leigh to visit S. Nuff said. I suspect the hang over will subside around Wednesday. No, make that Thursday.

I will miss the Monk, Rufus and the Roommate this weekend while I'm away. But then I will have a torrid love affair with wine or Jack Daniels or vodka (but most likely all three) and will forget any of them ever existed.

I am both amazed and appalled at the incompetence of most of my so called "peers". Scary. End of "Open Water" scary.

I love PF Chang's "Kung Pao Shrimp and Scallops" combo more than life itself.

I'm really grossed out by the chick who sits on the other side of my cube wall. If she's not performing her burp/hiccup combo she's talking about her hysterectomy or her dog "Putz". Or her bowling team "This Spud's for You"s shirts with their Mr Potato Head logo. And the shirts being sweaty. And her bowling in a tournament in Las Vegas in sweaty potato head shirts.

I think the Monk has a secret crush on Storm. I think I may as well.

And let me just add.....................

......................that the vice president is a dumbass. http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/11340558/

Happy Valentine's Day......will you be mine?

Well, it's Valentine's Day again, the most romantic day of the year, and for the first time in ages, I have a date other than the Roommate (who happens to be a WONDERFUL VD date, don't get me wrong) this time around! Ok, just wanted to throw that out there. But having been on the other side of the fence, if you don't have a special someone on VD, all the flowers, chocolates in red velvet boxes and crepe paper hearts serve as a rude reminder that you are alone, unloved and terribly pitiful. Just call yourself Charlie Brown for the rest of the day. But to alleviate the depression, here's a Roommate story that's sure to lift your spirits.

A while back, when the Roommate and I still worked together and shared a few accounts (his sales rep to my customer service rep) we were driving back to the office after a customer visit and he was checking voice messages. After he left a message for a customer he tossed his cell phone onto the dash board and stated that he had an odd dream the night before. He was at the Lesbian Olympics when he started having stomach cramps so he went to the infirmary where he was told to sit on a trash can. At that point he realized he was having an ass baby. Also at about that point in the story I heard a beep and looked at his phone. "I don't think you hung up" I said and a look of horror appeared on the Roommate's face. "I hope Joe's voice mail automatically timed out quickly" is all he said and then decided to not worry about it because at that point what can you do? The next day at work the Roommate was talking to Joe about an order when Joe stopped the conversation mid sentence and said "I've got to ask you...........ass baby?" so the roommate blew it off with "Yeah, ass baby" like it was the most natural thing to say, like people had ass babies all the time. We later learned that Joe had forwarded the voice message to everyone he worked with and that it eventually made it's way to some of our competitors as well. That one was a hard one to live down, but the Roommate weathered it and now it's a funny story he likes to tell often. I told the Monk the story the other day and he said "sounds like a blog", so here it is.

Enjoy your VD and have a happy ASS BABY everyone!

A new 'do for Rufus.

Isn't he the cutest thing ever. CUTEST. THING. EVER. The Boy trimmed the long scraggly hair off his ears and it makes him look like a puppy again. The Boy also trimmed the Rasta clumps of hair off his hind legs too, because they were just ugly. Rufus refused to allow me anywhere near him if I have scissors or nail clippers in my hand. He just doesn't trust.....well, me anyway. I have no idea how the Boy pulled it off but he did. Thanks!

4 x 4

I know you're dying to find out if the Roommate and I were able to complete our 4 x 4 paintings in time to submit them to the gallery by the deadline Friday. Well, I'm happy to announce we were! The Roommate has submitted "Francis Sleeping",

because I thought it looked like Sir Francis Bacon's work. Because I am a pig I submitted 2 paintings, the first one called "Zopa" which is a monk word for "patience"

and also a photo transfer of Rufus with an "R" superimposed over it.

Unfortunately there was a rule I ignored that stated only one piece per artist, so I had to choose between my two "babies" so Rufus is out of the show. Sorry Booboo.

Rufus, the Monk and I went on an afternoon hike Friday, which was exciting because a) I wasn’t at work and b) I had to actually do something with the Monk that required more from me than looking pretty, making funny quips or drinking wine. I had never been to Silver Falls, or even knew about them despite living in Oregon for almost 8 years, but the Monk, after a mere month after relocating from Taos, NM, had already heard about them and organized an outing there for us. Since the canyon trails are off limits to dogs Rufus got to spend quality time in the Jeep (which beats the hell out of hanging out in his kennel for hours on end) after we enjoyed our picnic lunch (see fig. 1) in the rare February sunshine.

Fig. 1

The Monk and I got to witness 7 fabulous and breath-taking waterfalls, much like this one (picture b, below).

Picture b

We took 2 separate trails, the first having two impressive waterfalls, the second with 5, one of which was a double waterfall (only I foolishly failed to capture the moment digitally). Both trails consisted of a nice hike down the canyon, a stroll from one waterfall to the next, and then a hellatious hike back up the canyon. Since it was sunny and I was exerting energy, I had managed to work up a sweat and decided to remove some layers of clothing, the first to go a faux fur-lined vest (such the stylist hiker am I, going lovely with my black Ugg boots). When one less layer failed to relieve the extreme heat I was suffering from, I then decided to remove my black fleece pull over (with the cutest black satin patches on the elbows). Now you’d think someone grown up and responsible could remove a fleece pullover without incident. You’d think so, yes, but like most things I do, I have proven you wrong again. As I pulled the fleece over my head I managed to get the zipper pull (yep, a functional zipper at the high collared neck) stuck in my nose as I flung the fleece off my head. Thank god the Silver Falls website kindly suggested hikers bring their own toilet paper, because I gave myself a nasty nose bleed * when I dislodged the zipper pull from my left nostril. Man it hurt like I had done too much really bad coke (not that I’ve done that, I’ve just heard stories, you know, people talk…….) and had to stuff a wad of toilet paper into my nose to stop the blood flow. Nice work, McGiver.

* (please note blood on toilet paper)

The remainder of the hike went without incident, thank god. I’d have hated for the Monk to have had to chop off a tree limb to splint a broken leg or something. Ah nature! You gotta love it.

One more thing..........

Another thing I realized:

I know way too much about telecom for someone who professes to be dumb. At the Super Bowl party we of course watched the commercials. They kept showing really funny commercials for a company called "Go Daddy". Finally a discussion started pertaining to what the fuck "go daddy" was, port? What? I piped in "You go to GoDaddy to buy domain names" * and everyone went Ahhhhh. So I realized I'm smart.

*But not that smart, having been drinking I actually stuttered "That's where you go to get those URL thingies". URL thingie happens to be a telecom term, smarty pants. Look it up in Newton's Telecom Dictionary if you don't believe me (actually don't bother, just take my word for it).

Scary is as scary does

Recent realizations:

• 
  Everything I own is either covered in white dog hair and/or mysteriously decorated with dog bite or claw marks, including my Jeep.
• 
  Our president thinks we are even dumber than he previously thought we were. I'm throwing one big yellow "bullshit" flag on his "Asian terrorists crashing a plane into a building that doesn't exist" announcement. How did illegal wire taps prevent this event at the very moment the shoe-bomb wearing thugs were at the cockpit door? How does that work again? Please, get better writers; Arrested Development was cancelled, talented writers are out of work and available for immediate employment.
• 
  My hair looks cuter shoulder length than it did "all Marcia Brady" and half way down my back. And it makes me look younger, but not as young as a teenage Marcia Brady.
• 
  Morning sex is actually fucking fantastic with the right person. Wake me up anytime (you know who you are).
• Aimee Mann wrote "She Really Loves You" (from "The Forgotten Arm" album) about Fresh Pepper. Consider the evidence in the first verse and chorus:
  Sitting in your father's basement, waiting for the phone to ring
  Still in your pajamas, Baby
  Made up some excuse to see you, said you didn't feel a thing
  Tired of all the drama, Baby
  But still the moment you hear, the moment you know, you know you'll come running baby
  Still the moment you hear, that she really loves you.
  See what I mean?
  
• 
  I want it to be summer already.
• 
  I was thinking about this whole "idiot company buying our company" business and about the conversion and moving to a new building in a different city. I want no part of it. I want the severance pay, I'm officially cashing in.
• 
  I'm not as much of an artist as I thought I was after doing two 4" x 4" paintings. Maybe I just don't deal with really scary deadlines. Yeah, that's probably the problem. I am an artist, just don't like the pressure.
• 
  I scare myself sometimes. And not in a good way.

What's the buzz?

Oh, yeah, it almost slipped my mind, the company I've worked for for the last 7 and a half years was just bought by a competitor, and a lack luster one at that. A customer asked me today if there would be any noticible changes and I told him I wasn't instructed to start giving shitty service yet, so no reason to panic at the moment. Am I worried about getting laid off? Hell no, I'm worried I won't get laid off! I'll be eligible for 24---yes, as in two dozen---weeks severance pay! Fuck, that's almost a half a year! Plus I'd get paid out for my vacation earned so far this year and the carry over vacation from '05. And I'd be eligible for unemployment!

Hope losing my job doesn't push me into a higher tax bracket.

Who's afraid of 4 inches?

So, you know I'm an artist, right? No, seriously, I am. Stop laughing, that's rude, I majored in Fine Arts at LSU and also got an associate degree in Graphic Design. No, I'm not kidding. Before this crap job I was the creative director for a display and design company and of course the natural career progression from there is right into telecom, so that's proof right there. But really, a visual artist. Plus the Roommate thinks of me as an artist, so there. I even create "art" still (finishing up another triptych) so of course I was intrigued by the "4 x 4 show". This is a juried show (taking up to 100 pieces) and the artwork can be no larger than four inches by four inches. The bad news is the artwork has to be turned in to the gallery by this Friday. The good news is it's only 4 frickin inches, so how long could that take? The painting shown here is one of mine but luckily I'm a bad photographer so you can't tell how bad of an artist I am.

I think I'll wait till Thursday night to start working on it. Believe me, I've done 4 inches before and it's nothing to be scared of.

My friend "S" in Seattle called yesterday morning and barked into the phone "I'm so excited I'm going to PEE my pants". She's a big Seahawks fan. I called her again after Seattle scored and the noise level at the party she was at was incredible. I couldn't hear a word she said. Needless to say, she's hurting today, but she did have a "dry night". She's such a big girl!

My friend "R" (identity protected, you will understand why) had a Super Bowl party at his house even though he was scheduled to work noon to ten pm. When he returned home shortly after leaving for work his fianceeée asked if he was OK. "My eyes, I can't see" he said. When she questioned the exact problem with his eyes he replied "I can't see.......myself working today". No fun in having a party if you can't even be there.

My friend Dana just had a baby 2 weeks ago and brought her little bundle of joy to the party. She told us how her baby is too small for premie diapers and when she woke up this morning the baby's shit had escaped the gaping leg holes in the diaper and onto the bed. I asked "Aren't you supposed to rub their noses in it?" and she announced "It's official, Suz will never baby-sit for me". Score! I'm not that into kids....or pooh.

The Monk learned a little more about American Football (very much different than Australian Rules Football). He also learned there are more strip clubs per capita in Portland than anywhere in the US. Somehow that slipped my mind. He's liking Portland more and more---hell, the sun's even out today.

You're probably wondering about the photo above, since it has absolutely nothing to do with today's post. It just appeared on my camera some time back and I decided to post it here because I was too lazy to take any Super Bowl Party photos. Holding a camera got in the way of drinking my Mike's Hard Lemonaded and screaming at the TV screen. Certainly some questionable calls.

More about PaD

I've always known that my photo a day site is pretty much a joke to the "real" photogragphers associated with pBase, but thinking about it just now I realized that I only ever post a good shot about once a month, average, and never a "great" shot like this guy , who does it on a regular basis, goddamn him. So I decided I should start calling my post "a shot in the dark that there'll be one god one this month" but that's a mouthful. I may be in telecom but that's one long acronym, even for my industry.

So, more about this guy.

We actually went to high school together, I was friends with his older sister at the time. Then we built our own friendship in college, which turned into a deeper friendship after my first divorce. We have remained close friends and confidantes since, and I am in awe of his photographic talent and his overall great outlook on life despite the crap life has handed him. He'll probably make me remove this post but I'm not computer savy, so I guess it stays. So check out his work. I am his biggest fan.

A month of Rufus

You may or may not know, gentle reader, that I belong to a global group of photographers who post a photo a day on a certain web site . Well I stupidly decided to only post pictures of Rufus this month as a kind or assignment, probably because just posting a photo a day isn't hard enough, I had to go and make it specific. So on the first day I posted this and then yesterday this and then today, this. Now after only 3 days into the month I have realized this was a boring and extremely stupid idea, an exercise that is sure to get me kicked off of PaD despite having paid my yearly dues in advance. So I think I'll have to get a little more creative, since that is the reason for the exercise in the first place, and take photos with Rufus in there lurking around in the background somewhere. I can also take shots of things Rufus does. Like this:

I'm sure you can figure out that the Roommate wasn't too happy with this masterpiece.

Keep posted by clicking here.

Memories..........

I spoke to the birtday girl a little while ago and she reminded me we were taking a "girl's weekend" trip to Seattle the weekend of the 18th and did and asked if we want to take the train? She also reminded me what happened the last time we took the train together. We were sitting in the bar car, talking to an older gentleman and getting drunk, when he told us about his son in the Army in Iraq. We felt compelled to do our civic duty and support the troops so we lifted our shirts and he took a photo of our tits on his phone and sent it to him. We're all about helping our boys overseas. We are going to try to not be so civic minded this trip.

Birthday wishes..........

Today is Leigh's birthday. Now Before you accuse me of turning this into a "birthday only" blog let me just say hold your horses, mister, we ain't having that. I am simply taking a moment to honor a good friend on her special day (when I typed that I said it in my head like a mother would say to a three year old, so go back and read it again to yourself in the same manner. I'll wait.) Leigh is funnier than shit, loud (but in a good way) and always has an opinion about something and generous enough to share it---whether you want sharing or not. Leigh is also that rare kind of person who can remain positive without reverting to that sickening sweet Pollyanna shit that makes you want to wretch in your shoes. So HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY, LEIGH! Hope your hang over tomorrow is less severe than the one you had this morning. Or yesterday morning for that matter.

Slightly chewed walnuts, anyone?

The Roommate and I have been having a spat lately so I haven't been in the mood to post. Sorry, sorry, sorry. Here's a picture that shows what it looks like when we get along. There are on pictures of when we don't get along because we don't pose for those for obvious reasons. Nothing upsets me more than a Roommateless day. I prefer to think of us like this photo here. But still....sad.

But for the sake of you, fair reader, I will "buck up" and write something and cross my fingers that it's at least funny enough to crack your face a bit. Oh, well........here....goes.......

So, I was sitting at my computer last night reading Estella
Estella's blogs are the funniest around and really make me laugh----she's so out there with her descriptions. Anyway, since just before Christmas I've been reading her archived posts and unfortunately last night I finally caught up to the present post, meaning I no longer have a reason to live. Major depression set in. And of course the best thing in the world to reverse depression is the angelic face of a beloved pet gazing up at you saying "everything's going to be O.K.".

Unfortunately I only have Rufus, so he'd have to do.

So I was sitting there and kinda hungry but not really, so I scrounged around in the cabinets for something to nibble on. I found a small bag of walnuts and held it up to show Rufus. "How about walnuts?" I asked. Rufus nodded his head and whispered "yeah, heh heh, yeah". So I sat back down at the computer to read and absently popped a few walnuts in my mouth, then one for Rufus. A couple for me, one for Rufus. This went on for a while until my reading was distracted by a little *tick* sound. I looked around but nothing, just Rufus looking up at me. Hmmmmm, interesting. Ok, back to reading. Then I heard it again. *Tick*. I looked down and there were two partially chewed walnuts on the floor. "Eat that" I said, pointing to one. Rufus looked at it and looked at me. "Nope", So I gave him another walnut. He ate it. Gave him another and he puckered up and spit it on the floor. "You're eating some but not others?" I asked. He nodded his head. "Why?" He shrugged his shoulders. "Don't waste food. There are starving children in China" I said, sounding exactly like my mother. "Don't they eat dog?" Rufus asked with a worried look in his eye (the wall eye, that's the one that shows fear). "Spit one more out and you'll find out the hard way".

I gotta get out more.

So check out Estella and Will while you're at it. I'm adicted to both.