Besides, we love the smell of paint

I wish I had gotten a photo of the eggplant living room wall with the orange, medium brown and dark poo brown color samples on it because it really told a story. The samples were each about 2 feet by 2 feet and it painted a story of equal parts indecision and desperation. And compromise because we decided to go with the just-drank-a-bottle-of-pinot-noir shit brown color, you know, the $5 mis-matched gallon of paint I started off with 3 wasted weekends ago, but after we got it slathered up there we decided the satin finish was a little too flat and a shinier finish would pick up the light better. So we're going to be adding a glaze to it to heighten the color, which of course means at least one more layer of paint. Yep, the room keeps getting smaller with each coat of paint applied to the walls. Soon the huge orange couch won't fit in the room anymore and we'll have to buy a love seat to replace it-----and then start the whole color choosing process over again.

I went over to Out of Character and was pleasantly surprised that Erin had put her sock monsters up for adoption on Etsy and as luck would have it, I snatched up one of the last two available monsters. I'm so excited! Can't wait for the box to arrive. Erin's is one of my absolutely favorite blogs, so check her craziness out and maybe you'll be able to snatch up the last remaining sock monster. Hurry, supplies limited.

Talk about random.......

I saw on MSN today that Portland has had more UFO sightings---and earlier sightings---than Roswell and I mention this because it kind of proves my point that Portland is a city full of weirdoes and crazies. This is not a rant, I love the weirdoes and crazy folks, they make life a little more interesting here, especially in the downtown area where they seem to congregate. A coworker said she was on the bus today with a well dressed middle aged woman who was behaving a little oddly. She changed seats several times for no apparent reason and would shout out seemingly unrelated statements like "I am a Caucasian" and "Thirty-six thousand dollars!" while digging around in her purse. I was able to one up my coworker with a crazy sighting of my own this morning. Sitting at an outdoor table of a local coffee shop was a man dressed in Middle Eastern garb; authentic looking Arab dress including long flowing white robes and an Yasser Arafat kitchen towel head dress. Now that's not a get up you see every day here in Portland but it wasn't completely odd either. What was odd was he also had a barrette like a mime would wear on top of his headgear. And he had an opened, oversized duffel bag on the ground by his feet. And in the bag was a banjo, I kid you not. I think he was a terrorist because nothing spells torture more than a banjo toting Arab. So I'm thinking I won the "My weirdo was crazier than yours" or was it "My crazy was weirder than your"? I'm not sure. But I do think I won.

Photos of last night's Last Thursday Tape Baby Drop to be posted soon!

Ticking phone bomb.

Sunday was all about HOT. First, our street had a block party and the Roommate called the fire department to come out for a visit. They do that here for block parties, you know, let the kids climb all over the truck and give them little junior fireman hats---only the Roommate actually called them out for a visit because he knows I like hot firemen. He's cool like that----screw the kids, they were happy enough throwing around a nerf football and picking on each other.

Then we went to the Chameleon for Pat's birthday party and aside from all the booze and food and go go boys he had a fire dancer. Hot. So the evening was about fire starters and fire putter-outers.

I just had a piss fight with Verizon (my favorite carrier ever!) over an install fee and I think I'm going to win this one. Jennifer* at Verizon stated that I ordered the inside wiring because "her order says so". Jesus, as if she'd even remember writing an order for one POTS line (plain old telephone service---we love our acronyms!) two months ago---so I just went ahead and forwarded their response to my e-mail order with the INSIDE WIRING NOT NEEDED all over it. Yeah, I expect a credit and an apology. No, I am not holding my breath. Winning an argument with Verizon is not very satisfying as it is exactly like tricking a kid into eating ice cream or getting Rufus to ruin a leather couch----just not that frickin' difficult.

Busy week here, tomorrow I will be watching the not-gonna-happen shit hit the telecom fan when I don't meet a customer's unrealistic deadline. Yea me! Wonder if I can blame it on Verizon……….hold the phone**, that idea is just simple enough to work.

*Her real name because she is NOT innocent.

**Telecom reference in a telecom joke! I am so clever, double points!

Tears streaming down my face.

Funniest thing I've seen in a long, long time should be right here.

Now don't be looking at all that other stuff.

Paint update.

Sherwin Williams
Bitter Chocolate

It's definitely not outrageous green.

PS I tried to link the colors but Sherwin Williams doesn't roll like that. You'll have to paste the color names in tne search field yourselves. Just a warning in case you're lazy.

The jury has reached it's verdict.

The Roommate hates the green wall. And the light green walls. And the purple chair. And he's not so sure about the orange couch but I think it's kinda staying. The only thing that's staying, that is. So tonight we will probably be painting the green accent wall dark chocolate brown (which to me, on the paint chip anyway, looks like a really deep maroon, but I ain't saying nothing) but thank god I've put the "so light pink it's almost white" paint for the other walls on hold, at least until we figure out if the coco is gonna take. This exact same thing happens every time we paint, we start out with one color and end up on the other side of the color wheel several stops later---that is when we aren't inventing colors not seen in nature and smearing them all over the walls, too. That little trick takes extra work, too.

Yea. It's almost the week end. I can hardly contain my glee.

Oh, and now that I'm thinking of it............

.........here's a photo of the Roommate and Boytek sitting on the big orange couch. I sent it to the Roommate because he was out of town when it was delivered and was afraid the couch would be too big for the living room. I think this photo dispels the fear that the couch is on the large side.

Ever e-mail photos of an orange couch at 2 am? I can scratch that off my "to do" list now.

I am sore. I spent the entire weekend working, picking out paint colors, looking at vintage furniture and painting. Work was busy Friday night, extremely busy, and it just about wore me out. Then on Saturday night is was DEAD so I spent a lot of time standing around and cleaning. Then I painted most of the day yesterday after walking up and down Hawthorne looking at funky fifties furniture (say that three times fast). This morning when I work up and rolled out of bed my body politely reminded me I'm old and need to park my wrinkled ass in that purple chair in the living room more often----meaning all the time---isn't Lawrence Welk on now?

Damn, I'm glad I didn't go to the gym on top of all that. Just thinking about that makes me want to take a nap.

Anyway, did you catch the part where I said I painted? That would be the dining room and half the living room, thank you very much. I didn't paint the wall in this photo because with all the furniture moved around and painting supplies everywhere, I just couldn't imagine where I'd stack all those paintings. I guess I'll be doing that tonight since the Roommate wants it done and painting is my part of the bargain. And although Boytek and the Roommate wanted the accent color to be dark chocolate brown, I went with lime green (about the color of the banner above), because that's how I follow directions. And because I spent 2 hours playing with colors on this site (click "launch color visualizer") and the only thing that worked with the orange couch and purple recliner was lime green---with red coming in a close second. Go ahead, play with the colors, I'll wait. Thank god I went to art school and studied color theory and all because that 4 year stint is finally paying off.

Anyway, it looks great and I couldn't be happier with how it's turned out so far. I also can't wait for it to be finished.

The only other thing I did this weekend was spend a little time hating people. People can be so stupid (present company excluded, of course). On Saturday I was driving down a half commercial, half residential street when I noticed a guy on the sidewalk (of the residential part) doing that hand waving motion that means "slow down". I didn't realize I was driving that fast to I glanced down at the speedometer and noticed I was going 25 mph. I also noted a sign saying 30 mph. Since I was on my way to the grocery store and we all know how much I hate going grocery shopping (because of all the stupid people) I was probably already on cranky street, so the dude with the wavy arms and sour look really pissed me off. I immediately turned around, drove over to where the guy was still standing, slowed down and yelled at him "Hey Barney Fife, I was only going 25. Just wanted you to know, have a nice day!" and drove off, not waiting to hear his stupid response. The comment did piss him off though, so one point for me. After that I went to the grocery store where everyone checks their IQs at the door, so you know how much I enjoyed that experience. People……….jeeze.

If you're old enough.........

...............do your remember where you were when you heard the King was dead?

Today's post is brought to you by the letter O (for orange)

"Before shot", stay tuned for "after"

The Roommate and I had a glass of pink wine and headed to IKEA on Thursday to check the place out. It's been open since the 25th of July but you wouldn't see us in any of that "grand opening" craziness just for the chance to get a free chair. Now if they had an open bar that would have been a completely different story, but I digress.


While strolling through the bathroom section the Roommate made a b-line to the shower curtains. I loudly said "No, no shower curtains. Whenever we get a new shower curtain we end up redecorating the entire bathroom. No shower curtains". The couple looking at shower curtains just about busted a gut when they heard this because obviously this scenario only happens at our house. I have a feeling they will be laughing out the other side of their mouths when they get that shower curtain home and realize the paint just doesn't quite match and wouldn't new towels and a rug freshen the place up? Before you know it they'll be replacing the fixtures and facets and that just sounds like too much trouble to this little black duck.


So instead the Roommate is buying a new couch. Not from IKEA but from super trendy Hip Furniture. The new sectional's of modern design. Oh, and it's orange. Imagine the Wave, only in orange. Great sectional and even greater price so the Roommate snatched it up for a song. Only problem is our current living room is more the style of Pottery Barn and kind of traditional, so the cocktail table, side tables and console won't work with the new sofa. And the fireplace screen is all wrong, and it matches the sconces, candle stands and lamp. And the antique rocking chair will HAVE to go. As will the curtains. And the walls will all have to be repainted.


So it looks like we will be doing a bit of painting in the very near future and making a few trips to IKEA to pick up some accessories. But you won't catch us anywhere near the shower curtains, because that just sounds like too much work.

"Do you want fries with that?"

Here's a little known House of Suz fact: I am waiting tables again. No, I did not get canned from my regular job, nor am I obsessed with using work to avoid a personal life, I am helping out a friend. I have mentioned him here before and know I have mentioned his restaurant as well but my friend Pat owns and is the chef of the Chameleon here in the lovely Hollywood district of Portland. Seems one of his bartender/waiters is off to live in Prague and since Pat closes his place for the month of September every year he doesn't want to hire a replacement who will then have no job for a month. The Roommate suggested I temporarily fill the personnel gap and that is just what I am doing. Besides, I can always use a little extra cash.

So if you're out and about in Portland on a Friday or Saturday evening in August and are looking for an excellent meal (and so-so service---meaning me) come out to the Chameleon and tell 'em Suz sent ya. I'll make sure you get a complimentary glass of water.

I love working in downtown Portland

On a very short walk (of all of two blocks) today I saw one Gremlin, two multi-colored mohawks and one Elvis. A pretty good day by anyone's standards.

Too many crazy street people to count, though.

Birthday e-mails. Check and done.

Now to complete my trifecta of promised posts, here are Rufus's (dog, not drag queen) birthday e-mail greetings:

Of course the first came from Rufus's Mommy:

Hello Rufus! Let me be the first to wish you a happy birthday!

Next was from Diane:

Rufus,

Congratulations on turning 4 and getting your own email box! Not many dogs have one, your mommy must love you very much. I know you have been scared of me because of "the sound" incident and I think it's time I came clean and let you know something important so listen carefully - guess what? It wasn't me who made "the sound", it was your Aunt Tammy! That's right, Aunt Tammy did it so I guess it's good that she's dead now, huh? You'll never have to worry about hearing that terrifying fart noise again. You must have been tortured by someone with extreme flatulence as a little pup, I can't imagine the sheer horror!

Anyhoo, I hope you slept well last night with a full belly of pizza, birthday cake and a pleasant little beer buzz and had magical dreams of chewing up little babies and chasing big fat rats.

Love,

(your favorite) Auntie Rusty*

Oddly enough the next e-mail came from Tammy:

Sorry to have missed your b-day party; I bet it was a hoot. I feel much better today – not as young as we used to be.

Anyway tell your mom hi and I hope you all had fun yesterday.**

Next came the e-mail greeting from iamnot which simply consisted of a YouTube link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HGq1MRPDO6I



Then came the greeting from Our Rusty:

Hey Rufus,

I hope you had the bestest birthday weekend!

your uncle rusty really misses you (yep i said it...i miss rufus)!

I wish i could have been there so you could have run out to say hi by peeing on my shoes!

love you, rufus

uncle rusty

And finally, the last birthday greeting was from Dana and baby Ella:

Rufus,

Happy belated b-day. You have just grown up so fast. And been being so
well behaved! Kudos. Be thankful your Mommy is not like Britney. Cute
pics looks like you liked the cake.

Cheers!

Dana and Ella

Thank you everyone who participated in Rufus's birthday weekend and sent greetings to Mommy's Little Angel. How am I going to top this next year?

* As my friend Pat says, "Your dog is weird". Rufus has no problem with real farts but if you make the fart sound with your mouth he freaks out a little bit. Diane did it once and Rufus wouldn't go near her for a couple months.

** Then on Rufus's birthday Tammy was hung over and couldn't make the party so instead of breaking his little doggie heart and telling him Tammy was bailing on his party I told Mommy's Little Angel that Tammy had died and that's why she couldn't make his party. He was ok with that.

Packing tape babies. Check.

My friend Erin mentioned something about changing poopie diapers but I wonder what packing tape baby diapers would look like? The world may never know.

This is the only baby the Roommate and I "stuck" somewhere. We ended up giving the rest of them away because everyone loves packing tape babies! We stuck this one in a potted tree at a restaurant. There was a group of people assembled celebrating "Christmas in July" so I gave them a tape Baby Jesus.

Our friend Erin told us about an unveiling of a mural at a restaurant on Last Thursday and we ended up giving the artist a baby. He ended up using his baby as a pointer as he showed off different parts of the mural.

Pregnant with a tape baby.

We ran into our friends Kate and Rob on Alberta so we gave them the first baby of the evening. Thank god they stuck it to a stop sign, otherwise the one we stuck in the tree would be the only ones posted around town. But fear not, we plan on making more and sticking them up for August's Last Thursday. Keep your eyes peeled for them if you venture out.

Meme. Check

The only thing worse than being the kid not picked for kick ball is being picked for a meme. Thanks iamnot. Because I am not good at following directions I am not going to tag anyone. Yeah, I’m a rebel like that. Also, I think everyone who has ever even thought about having a blog has been tagged with this one already.

"Each player lists 8 facts/habits about themselves. The rules of the game are posted at the beginning before those facts/habits are listed. At the end of the post, the player then tags 8 people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know that they have been tagged and asking them to read your blog."

1. I have become quite shallow in my old age, well in the looks department anyway. I just can’t be attracted to a man who is slack about grooming, can’t dress himself or isn’t smart and witty. But then again, if a guy expects me to be all the above, don’t expect me to let you get away with it, either.

2. I really don’t like the vast majority of people out there. Seriously.

3. The happiest I have ever been was on a sailboat in Hawaii. And it was in spite of who I was with.

4. I am not one of those women who adore shoes. I would wear flip flops every day if I could get away with it. That probably contradicts #1 but whatever. Sue me.

5. I love having a Jeep in the summer but it’s just “eh” the other 9 months of the year (when it rains in Portland).

6. I put the needs of others before my own way too much. In moderation it’s a good thing, too much is ridiculous.

7. I don’t think I will ever be at a point financially to retire.

8. I guess I’m “in a mood” today and should have left this for another time. Ooops.

Rufus Wainwright and Rusty have more in common than I suspected

So, packing tape baby photos, meme and Rufus birthday e-mails are all still in the works but I just wanted to get this posted while it's still fresh in my mind. In fact I think it's kind of burned into my brain, but you know.

Tuesday was the day I had been waiting on for about 2 years, a Rufus Wainwright concert I could attend. Mind you, he has been touring but overseas, there were the concerts in Seattle I couldn't get tickets to and his sold out recreation of Judy Garland's 1961 historic Carnegy Hall concert in NYC last fall but I couldn't make any of those, so I made sure I bought my tickets for his Portland show the second they went on pre-sale.

The Roommate (also a big fan) and Tammy (not familiar with his music but intrigued enough by my stalker-like devotion to cough up the $40 for a ticket just to watch me scream like a teenager) were having our pre-concert dinner around the corner from the venue when the subject of when Rufus took the stage came up. The ticket said “show starts at 9” but was that the main event or when the opening act started? I was chosen to walk the 2 blocks and ask at the venue’s box office.

On my way I thought about asking if John Lennon’s son went on at nine or was it Loudon Wainwright III’s son that went on at 9 but at the ticket window I just asked if Rufus or Sean went on at 9. Turns out neither, some band from LA went on at 9, Sean at 9:30 and Rufus not until 10:30. Now call me old but isn’t that a little late for the headliner to start? Once I repeated the time table to my friends it was decided we order more wine and wait at the outdoor café for the star to shine.

When we got into the venue Sean was still performing (and he had a singer that was a ringer for his mom when younger---someone page Freud) we ran into an acquaintance of the Roommate’s. I did not use the term “friend” because a FRIEND calls you and gives you the head’s up when he is going out to karaoke with Thomas Lauderdale from Pink Martini and RUFUS FUCKING WAINWRIGHT. Bastard. We then headed to the balcony to wait for the main act. (By the way, Sean inherited more of his musical talent from his mom as opposed to from his dad. Just saying.)

Rufus did his usual grand performance (with an intermission so he could change into lederhosen for the second half of the show) and surprised me when he came out for his finale (without the band) in a terrycloth bathrobe and sat down at the piano to play Halleluiah. When the song ended to thunderous applause he got up and stood at center stage, pulled a tube of lipstick out and applied it to his lips. Then his band, now all dressed in matching black suits, stood in front of Rufus and he momentarily disappeared from the audience’s veiw only to emerge in a black fedora and a black suit. And the suit didn’t have pants, it had a short black skirt and he was wearing huge glittery earrings that caught the light. And then he proceeded to sing a Judy Garland song. My music hero was doing drag, only without the lip-sync part, he was really belting it out in true Garland style. To say this sight was disturbing is an understatement because let’s face it, I don’t want Rufus to be a drag queen. It’s not how I picture him---and I have NOTHING against cross dressers, just as long as it’s not Rufus.

It’s like finding out Jesus wore ladies panties----it’s not wrong but it’s just not quite…..right? It doesn’t fit in with my image of Rufus but I guess I need to get over it and get used to it at the same time. He did dress as a woman for the cover of Want One (or was it Two?) after all so yeah, I guess I gotta deal. Rusty did drag and it didn’t kill me. I guess I can work through this.

Keep your eyes peeled for a YouTube video, one’s bound to come out. Looking over the last few posts it dawns on me that perhaps I should rename this blog "dude looks like a lady".

Monday blahhhhhhhhhhhhsssssss

First, there's this.

Now once you get over that eyeful I'll post Rufus's birthday e-mail greetings and the packing tape baby photos, which my computer is playing "hide and seek" with, only it's kind of cheating and just flat out deleting them. I hate computers who cheat.

And lastly, LISTEN UP, YA'LL. Tomorrow is a holy day of obligation. That's right, Rufus Wainwright is rolling into town to make me a giddy school girl once again. Yeppers! Here's Our Rusty's favorite Rufus song to get us all in the mood. Enjoy.

Making babies.

The Roommate and I have been busy making babies. No, silly, not real ones! Ours are made out of packing tape. I've decided to borrow this artist's medium for a little outdoor art work, which we will be installing this evening for the Alberta Street Last Thursday art walk. Here's what it will look like. Turns out making babies is a laborious task. And time consuming. And that is my excuse for not posting Rufus birthday e-mails and the meme from iamnot, I'm busy tending to my new brood. But rest assured, we will be photo essaying the baby abandonment tonight for your amusement very soon!

Yea for packing tape babies! You can leave them alone out in public and child protective services can't touch your ass.

Shocker: Travolta doesn't make a pretty woman.

My review of "Hairspray", you know the movie/musical inspired by the musical, inspired by the movie: I liked the original movie.

On to other news!

Saturday was the much awaited wedding of Rob and Kate----I say much awaited since they were engaged on New Year's ......1987. Or 2006, all those years just run together. I must say it was quite an enjoyable wedding, but then again it ended with a co ed skinny dip in a questionably polluted river, but fuck it! Everyone had fun! Great wedding and a great couple. Many happy returns! Wow, a weekend of celebrations it turns out! (Ok, you can hold your tongue right now, I know IT'S TUESDAY and am just now getting around to the weekend update. Deal with it, I am busy, and therefore important, so this is the soonest I could post.)

Speaking of men dressing like women....

This very Sunday the Guinness Book of World Records was here in our very own PORTLAND for a history making event. Yes, the record for the largest number of drag queens in a dance line was BUSTED RIGHT OPEN, people, right before my eyes! Owww, my eyes, I may never see straight again (pun intended). So yes, I was there for this monumental occasion, photographic proof. I tried to get the whole line in the shot but 60 drag queens? That's a lot of wig, sister! This isn't CinemaScope! And finally, yes, it was my lovely, darling Rufus's birthday this past Sunday (and the other Rufus too!) so we made our way to our local pizza joint for birthday pizza and beer.

And cake.

And before anyone accuses me of being a crazy dog lady, wait...what the heck. Go ahead. It's funnier if you think I am!

Mmmmm, chocolate mint cake! Only the best for my Booboo!

It's not too late to send him a birthday e-mail greeting at mommyslittleangel1@gmail.com. I told him there was an e-mail postal strike so some correspondence may be delayed. Dogs, they are so forgiving! Send your greeting now before he gets all jaded and eats my shoes, or the couch!

Gumdrop nose and longest eyelashes in the world!

This is Rufus's birthday weekend! That's right, Mommy's little angel will be four years old tomorrow! Although I haven't ironed out how we will celebrate this milestone I do urge you to send your birthday greetings to the cutest dog in the world via his personal e-mail account. All correspondence will be read to the birthday boy. You can reach Rufus at mommyslittleangel1@gmail.com

Happy Birthday Rufus! And it's also this Rufus's birthday as well.

Happy Birthday VE, too!

Silly, there's no basement at the Alamo!

The title of this post has nothing to do with the post itself, the quote from Pee Wee's Big Adventure just popped into my head this morning on my commute into work and it's been rattling around in there ever since.

Because I am once again uninspired to create literary brilliance here (smiling at my own wit and self deprecation) I am going to do what I do best. Rant. Today's topic is a foot fashion nightmare that I simply can't abide and feel it must be stopped at all cost. That would be abomination that is called the Croc. I've seen people wearing these things everywhere and cannot understand why otherwise intelligence adults are clunking around in gardening shoes in public (you would expect an attraction to the bright colors and goofiness from kids, so they are excused from the rant). They wear them at work even. And on vacation (I saw a couple in matchy-matchy slime green ones in Key West and all I could wonder was how they made it to a vacation destination straight out of their gardens). It is reported that they are extremely comfortable and I have no problem with things that make one feel good, I just don't understand why comfort has to be so damn butt-ugly and chunky. The mind trust behind this silly footwear fad must surely like to chuckle at other people's misfortune, because wearing these shoes are the embarrassment equivalent of tripping over a piece of gravel on a crowded public street holding a now-spilled latte. And wearing dumb shoes to boot.

So here is my plea! Throw away those ridiculous looking shoes immediately! Or adopt a plot in a community garden. Or get used to me pointing and laughing at you, because let's face it, you look down right silly. And yes, even in a lovely shade of puce.

"Buddy, can you spare a dime?"

Normally I don't have a problem with panhandlers; hell, if you can get someone to give you money just by saying the two words "spare change" then more power to ya. But you've got a lot of balls if you say "spare change" sitting on a downtown sidewalk, smoking a joint.

Call me old fashioned but it just don't seem right.

Blahhhh.

Today I sat on hold for 45 minutes waiting to order a DSL line from Verizon. Wooowooo.......that is a perfect example of FEELING NO LOVE.

Makes one wonder how the giant stays in business. But that wasn't my only interaction with Big Bad V today. I also sat on hold for their maintenance line and in a separate incident was told I already had DSL on a line that they had told me Friday did not have DSL on it. Who do you believe, the liar or..........the liar? I GIVE UP, VERIZON! YOU WIN. YOU ARE STUPIDER THAN ME, and I just said "stupider" so that's how stupid I am!

Sorry, tired. Verizon has completely zapped my energy and creativity.

Oh, and my friend Dana told me about a show on Showtime called Dexter. Serial killer turned do gooder (sort of---if you've been dealing with Verizon it will make perfect sense). Anyway, killer (pardon the intended pun) show so check it out.

This one goes out to Leigh, who's bored today.

On your average a Portland summer day doesn't usually consist of:

a) really hot temperatures
or
b) balmy humidity

There's a few smells that are most unpleasant on a hot, balmy day (for instance B.O., dog shit and vomit come to mind) but right up there on my list of offensive hot smells is a whiff of patchouli oil, and we have a lot of hippie types up here in Portland. I got stuck walking behind someone wearing an overabundance of patchouli oil just this morning and it being hot and balmy I decided to head back to the office quickly and stay there the remainder of the day because there are a lot of hippie/street beggers/weirdos all over downtown Portland, especially around Pioneer Square which is a block from my office.

The bank I had to visit this morning is right on Pioneer Square and as I was entering the bank a man in wildly patterned board shorts and what appeared to be a wildly patterned T-shirt exited the main entrance. I say it "appeared to be a wildly patterned T-shirt" but on closer observation it turned out to actually be his bare torso with an elaborate tattoo covering only the skin that would normally be covered by a short sleeved shirt. Did I mention each of his nipples were pierced and had 6" dangling paper clip chains attached to each? And he had a loop piercing his back, kind of like a talking baby doll would have. Kind of a little too "different" for business casual, even for the Pacific Northwest.

Once inside I was approached by a clerk who was standing right at the entrance; I commented that the man who just left probably shouldn't wear such a loudly printed pair of board shorts with a tattoo as it really kind of clashed. The teller laughed and said "You should of heard the question he just asked me" so of course I asked. Turns out the man went into the bank to find out if anyone working there knew where he could get glow in the dark nipple clamps. Yep, only in Portland. I told the teller he should have told the guy he gave the last pair out just this morning to an elderly lady who opened a checking account.

And in case you are wondering, they can be had here. Thank god for google.

Hot.

Damn hot, and I'm out five bucks which makes me hotter. I bet the Roommate it would NOT get over 100 degrees here in Portland today and I checked 4 weather sites and 3 of the four* said it was 100 degrees as of 3:15. I based my guess that the temperature would stay in double digits on the fact that it was only in the mid 80s yesterday and triple digits rarely happens here. Anyone who wants to argue there's no such thing as global warming (or the limp-dicked term the president likes, climate change) can put their money where their mouth is, and I will agree whole heartly with you, but only until I get my hot (literally) little hand on that five spot.

I'm going to see if the Roommate will go double or nothing for tomorrow. NOAA says it'll only be 99.


PS to iamnot, I could not post a title either. It was gonna go with "Paris called it, it's hot!" or the old stand by "Hot enough for ya?"



*Yahoo!, MSN, Weather Channel and NOAA. NOAA was the one of the four holding at 99 today.

Crack for all ages.

Shawna was talking about playing spades online and it reminded me of a slightly funny story and since nothing hilarious happened on the train this morning I just so happened to have found myself post-less, until now.


Every so often I find myself obsessed with playing solitaire on the computer, so much so that I literally lose hours engrossed with the worthless entertainment. It pisses the Roommate off to no end, why I don't know, so much so that he started calling it "spinster crack", his logic being only old ladies play solitaire on the computer, I guess, maybe he meant with actual cards too, but that's besides the point. He'd come home to find me on the computer and he'd automatically know I was playing spinster crack and would give me no end of grief about it. Even with an endless supply of hassling and sarcasm I still had the solitaire monkey on my back and played it whenever I had a few free minutes.

If you recall, in January a group of us went to San Diego for the Roommate's birthday weekend bash; sometime mid flight the Roommate went to the back of the plane (nope, we were not in first class) to go to the bathroom. When he came back to his seat he instructed me to go back to the bathroom and to take particular notice of what the little woman a few rows back had on her computer screen. I got up as instructed and made my way to the back of the plane; I noticed a little old lady working on a computer. When I say "little old lady" I mean it in the truest sense of the word, cartoonishly accurate, white hair, glasses, navy floral print dress with a peter pan collar. As I passed her aisle I glanced at her computer screen and almost laughed out loud. The little old grandma was playing solitaire on the computer and the scene was so perfectly put together I almost would have sworn the Roommate would have set it up, only the whole trip was a surprise to him. I chuckled all the way to the back of the plane and upon my return to my seat I vowed never to play spinster crack again.

And I still haven't to this day. Cut that puppy off cold turkey. I figure not playing solitaire will keep me young. Or youngish.

Last train to crazy.

Just when you think you've seen it all on the train a woman will sit down across from you, close her eyes, reach into her messenger bag and pull out a small stone with an odd native looking symbol carved into it. She will then slowly rub the rock on the palm of her hand, over and over, all around the palm, with a look of pure bliss on her face (eyes still closed) and she will continue to do this for about ten minutes. As the train approaches her stop she will put the stone back in her bag and slowly open her eyes and disembark. She had the look of an ultimate orgasm on her face, or a look that kind of said she was just visited by Jesus, either one will do.

The train rocks. And stones too, I guess.

I'm thinking of teaching an e-mail writing class focused on making the e-mail correspondences of the average busy executive more streamlined, specifically geared toward decreasing the amount of time workers waste writing e-mail messages that their counterparts will never read. It's pretty obvious that few people in the American work force actually read the body of an e-mail but instead glom whatever info they deem important from the e-mail's subject line alone. If an e-mail's subject line consists of "Acme project a go" then why bother with the rest of the message, it's only going to be chocked full of details you won't need until later and it's all going to be a let down anyway, right, since you already know the big news from the subject line spoiler? I for one know I've labored over the precise wording of an e-mail only to find out it was never read after speaking with it's clueless recipient. So let's all get together and agree that e-mail is passé and it's the age of texting, so all that is really needed in corporate correspondence is a very short line, something along the lines of "Acme = go" until that is itself shortened to "Acme ;-)". I would imagine we could cut down our work week to 35 hours---like the schedule the French already enjoy---just by avoiding the senseless waste of time writing and reading e-mail.
-------------

Rusty doesn't like the color change and as I am not married to it, I'm afraid it will have to go, so don't get attached (words I live by).

What to do?

What do you write when you no longer have anything to say?

Usually, I assume, it would be "goodbye".

Goodbye is for quitters so something's got to change.

New look. New Suz. Stay tuned.

Guess who?

Guess who's got a major summer cold and feels like death not even anywhere near warmed over? You get three guesses and the first two don't count.

I'm going to climb under the couch in my office and take a nap.

My bad.

Turns out this photo was not taken of the castle/cathedral in Prague, it's actually somewhere in Poland, only the Roommate didn't send it to me until he was in Prague so you can understand from where my confusion stems. That and the high quality of the image didn't help either, nor the fact that all those ancient Eastern European cities all look the same. And as in "the same" I mean breath-fucking-taking beautiful. Even considering this was a formerly Soviet ruled country, I mean some things even the commies just can't fuck up---and in the case of whatever building this is, Hitler either.

Welcome home Roommate and Boytek! Thanks for the lovley prezzies!

A big Rusty Gay Pride!

This is a weird shot. Not because of the guys dressed like ladies, no, it's the sun's out in this photo. I don't remember much sun last weekend! Wait, this shot was taken Saturday, the sun peeked out for a bit come to think of it. Check out the clouds in the far background if you don't believe me. I even bought an umbrella for the occasion.

More sun, must be Saturday, but again, check out the clouds. Not sure who this is with Rusty, but something convinced him to pose with Our Rusty. Yep, that's right, it must have been our Rusty.

Pat, Katie, me and Our Rusty. One of those drinks I'm holding is Rusty's, I swear.

Rusty, at what Rusty does best. Getting up close and personal with strangers.

And finally, Rusty with one Storm Large, a personal hero. This was taken just after he was told he could not, in fact, climb up on the stage and just before he was cut off at the block party. Party on Rusty!

The roof, the roof, the Rufus on Fire!

Interesting day today. Yesterday I took the morning off sick (and not because of "brown bottle" sickness, I was having severe sinus issues) so when I went to work around 1 I decided to do a little experiment; I put Rufus in my bedroom but didn't close the door completely, so he would have the run of the house. Now, mind you, Rufus hasn't had this privilege before----not for more than 5 minutes anyway---so I was taking a huge chance leaving him out free for a full four plus hours. But low and behold, when I got home he was there at the kitchen door to greet me and nothing in the house was destroyed. I'm sure he barked his fool head off at anyone who walked down the sidewalk in front of our house but I don't care, I wasn't there to hear it and he evidently can be trusted on his own, now that he's almost 4 and all.

So this morning I decided to do the same thing, when I left I didn't close the bedroom door all the way, secure in my belief that he would be a good dog again. As I drove to the train I wondered if I had remembered to close and lock the back door, and almost went back to check. I changed my mind because that would have made me very late for work and the backyard is almost completely Rufus-escape-proof. Besides, surely I closed it and just didn't remember.

Then I wondered if I had turned off my curling iron this morning. Not that I ever forget but I was already in worry mode as it was, what with possibly leaving the backdoor open and therefore allowing Rufus to roam the neighborhood free.

Luckily I had closed the door on the middle finger of my left hand so I was preoccupied with whether or not I will form a bruise under my nail (already have) and diverted my worry thoughts. Besides, if I set the house on fire with my curling iron, surely Rufus can escape from the burning structure through the back door I probably left open.

Only time will tell, besides, I made it to work on time so no worries.

Happy June 'Teenth! (If you don't know the story of "June Teenth" leave a message in the comments and I will explain.)

Seriously

I have come to believe that no one actually works on Fridays anymore, because I have gotten scant little e-mail today and zilch at my personal e-mail account. So to all of you who don't have to work on Fridays all I have to say is screw you. I'll be here till 5:30 while you hit your third of many happy hours. Hope you don't have a hang over tomorrow. Seriously.

This weekend is all about Our Rusty, who is making a rare visit to the Rose City. I vow to take many photos and post a photo essay in his honor soon. Seriously.

I'm having a BBQ in Rusty's honor tonight and I thought it was supposed to be nice today but when I woke up this morning it was raining. I want sunny warm weather this evening because there's few things worse than a soggy cook out. Seriously.

Today on the train there was a woman with a stroller and a child in the stroller (as that's where they tend to hang) and the woman babbled on and on to the kid who I am guessing was about a year an a half old (but I'm not good at age guessing kids, so it could very well have been a young teenager) trying to keep the kid from getting cranky. Just as the baby was about to pitch a fit she told the tot their stop was the next one and got up from her seat readying the stroller. An old dude sitting near buy waved at the kid and said "bye bye" very sweetly and the baby spat out "shut up". Wonder where it learned that?

Riding the train is entertaining. Seriously.

"Thank you for calling Verizon, please hold your breath"

The nightmare that is my quest, finding someone at Verizon to sell me circuits, briefly took a turn for the better this morning but then took a swift turn for the worse. I was passed off a couple times this morning until I was told that (no lie) "Dicksie Hunter"---sounds like a drag queen name to me, get it, Dick Hunter?---was my new rep. Until she decided we were talking resale so now I'm back with one Ric Ponce De Leon, who, as luck would have it, is the rep I pretty much started my long and winding journey attempting to order circuits from two weeks ago. Yes, I have come full circle within Verizon, traveling via e-mail all over this great country of ours. Only to be deposited with the one who sent me packing from the start. Fingers crossed he even answers my e-mail.

If anyone would like a challenge and either has bags of money or can find the financing to buy a evidently profitable company, all you need do is look into buying Verizon/MCI. Then lay off the entire staff of sales/customer service folks and point all the toll free numbers to a call center manned completely by a heard of monkeys. All the monkeys would have to do is pick up the receiver when a phone rings and then hang up on the customer immediately. Repeat. You would be able to accomplish the same thing Verizon does on a daily basis only now without the overhead of personnel as monkeys will work for bananas.

I hope Mr Ponce De Leon actually has found the fountain of youth because I'm going to need a drink. It appears it will take more than my natural life to get my circuits ordered.

As I always said when I worked at Hugs and Kisses, "Thank god for Verizon, because of them we're not the worst in the industry".
Fun!

Prague

The Roommate just sent me this photo from his phone. The cathedral in Prague, at sunset. Just as beautiful as I remembered it.

Frustration with links.

Well, Blogger will not allow me to post a photo of the boys in front of Auschwitz so I am forced to be a little more creative. Today's post will be all about links. You can see the photo of my world travelers here. I was going to post more of their photos last night but I was having internet issues. Story too long and boring to go into, so we'll leave it at that.

Yesterday in an e-mail I told the Roommate I missed him but he probably didn't miss me because he was in Europe. He said he did miss me just as much, only not as often.

I have been frustrated lately, to say the least. Money problems, the afore mentioned Internet issues, allergies and SOMEONE has been taking advantage of the Roommate being gone and has been misbehaving just like the spoiled rotten child he is. Had a little time out in the kennel last night and he wasn't happy about that, nosirre!

Since the Roommate had the floor refinished in the sun room while he is away I decided to go ahead and paint the walls, since all the furniture has been removed and pictures taken off the walls (the latter because of the dust kicked up by the sander). Since we have steel blue throw pillows and curtains in the room I decided to go with a very pale blue. When I went to the paint store I second guessed myself and got a more blue paint and when the clerk put the little sample of paint on the can lid I figured I went too light because it was almost white. Then when I put some on the wall it turned out to be the color of an infant boy's nursery, and you know how I feel about babies. So hauled the gallon of paint on the train with me this morning and pawned it off on a coworker who just had a baby boy and went back to the store and got my original color and had to wait 30 minutes while the stupid couple in front of me picked out about 7 colors and had them all mixed. My clerk evidently couldn't multi-task so I had to wait till they had all their paint before he'd take my order for Delicate Blue in a satin finish. I then went home to spend my Monday evening painting the room only to find out once I arrived home that the dumb ass clerk mixed SEMI-GLOSS. Nice. So I was forced to watch On Demand "Sex and the City" and drink wine only to I haul the gallon of paint on the train with me and managed to pawn it off on a coworker who's wife just had a baby boy. That means this evening it's back to the paint store to kick some dumb-ass-clerk-ass and get my non-lip gloss shiny blue/gray paint. Oh, and then paint. Fun.

Then all day I tried to orde DSL from Verizon. (And yes I did come across that exact page many, many times. Get your damn site fixed!) Did I mention the part about ALL DAY? Evidently Verizon has gotten their shit less together since their merger with MCI (proof that there is no god). I may have to kill someone.

Thank god for Erin or I wouldn't have had a single laugh all day. She's funnier than shit today.

What the f..........

I am so disappointed with the series finale of the Sopranos. They ended it with a Journey song? What a frickin' let down.

I hate Journey.

Just sent an e-mail to the Roommate in Poland

"Hey there,
Not sure if you heard because you are probably not engrossed in Polish newscasts (reported in Polish, no less) and I'm sure the country of Poland as a whole has more important things to occupy their collective minds but Paris was released to house arrest by the sheriff on Thursday, for medical reasons, only to be dragged back into court on Friday where she was sent back to jail to sit out her entire 40+ day original sentence. Dragged kicking and screaming and not very "Paris-like" at all, to be exact. Tears and shouts of "It's not right!" and "Mom!". Tisk tisk. Do the crime, do the time, even if you're Paris Hilton. There is justice after all, or at least a crumb of it every once in a while.

How goes life behind the no longer iron curtain?
Suz"

Yippppppppppeeeeeeeeeeee!

"It's not right!".........the shout heard 'round the world. Speaking of "around the world" I wonder if Paris's delima has hit the headlines in Poland as it has here in the good-ol'-media-obsessed-USA? Somehow I doubt it; I'll have to check with the Roommate to know for sure.

Well, all I can say is it is my guess that up until she was hauled into court this morning, Miss Hilton had the whole thing planned out. Damn, reality bursting in sometimes smarts. Ouch. And also thank god.

Here's your Friday laugh!

Girls Are Pretty is funnier than shit today; check it out. More later. Ta!

Strangness abounds.

I have been asked recently how the new job is going and I have to say “couldn’t be better”. Here’s a run down:
-I work with people I like
-I work for a company I believe in
-There’s a wine shop in my building that serves by the glass
-I get a transit pass so I don’t have to pay for downtown parking or battle traffic
-I am paid well
-So far I am good at my job
-I haven’t had to fill my gas tank since I left H&K
-There’s a bunch of beer and a bottle of champagne in the office fridge.
So I guess that says it all, pretty much. Happy happy, joy joy!

And speaking of my coveted and paid for transit pass, I ride the light rail train to and from work and that round trip each day could pretty much fill a blog entry a day on it’s own. Portland is an eclectic city full of people of diverse lifestyles along with a whole bunch of weirdoes so the trip into downtown (where the weirdoes go to congregate) is usually interesting to say the least. I hear Porltand is also the #1 city in the nation for lesbians to come out of the closet and the city has quite a few trans-gender folks as well. Yesterday on the train I noticed a woman who was evidently going through a gender change because she looked like a woman in every way, except for her goatee. I had heard earlier in the week that there were quite a few women in the downtown area sporting goatees but this was the first I had seen. A few stops into my journey I noticed a large woman sitting to my left (I was standing) fiddling with a “crackberry” in an opened book in her ample lap but thought nothing of it. The bearded lady was sitting immediately to her left, facing her, reading a book. A few minutes later a movement from the woman sitting next to me caught my eye; she was holding up the crackberry and evidently had it in camera mode because I could see the bearded lady’s face on it’s screen. “She is NOT going to take a photo of her” I thought to myself, and repeated the thought again when I heard a very audible camera-snapping-a-photo sound. I was aghast, HOW FUCKING RUDE! I mean she was sitting so close to her subject that the bearded lady knees were basically pressing against her fat thighs. The bearded lady looked up with disinterest look on her face, followed quickly by an pretty angry look. “Did you just take a picture of me?” she asked with a hint of impatience in her voice. The fat lady ignored her at first but then said yes without even looking in the speaker’s direction. “Please delete it” was all the goateed lady said, and repeated it when she got no response. “I will not, but thank you for asking” responded the plump paparazzi. The bearded lady shook her head and continued to read. I so wanted to tell the photographer she was a rude, fat bitch but I held my tongue; I am not yet sure of the protocol for a mass transit traveler. I’ll have to stop by my local TriMet ticket office to pick up a copy of their manners handbook because at this point I have no clue.

Also recent downtown incidents worthy of mention;
I saw a man walking a ferret on a leash
A cat riding on top of a bedroll balanced on a backpack strapped to a walking homeless person
I have been asked for spare change at least a million times
A stranger (homeless teenager) asked to borrow my cell phone. Yeah, almost fell for THAT ONE again. Pfffhh.

So yeah, everything is pretty much normal here in downtown Portland; I had forgotten how weird it was since I haven’t worked here in about 4 years. How’s shit in your neck of the woods?

Like a ping pong ball in a clothes dryer.

I got a couple of verbal spankings the last few days on account of my less than regular posting. I will try to correct this. Many pardons, now get off my back.

I didn’t get much sleep last night and whenever that happens I have trouble keeping my mind from going off on a tangent. It’s like a temporary case of Attention Deficit Disorder is the only way to describe it. Also a lot of twinklings and splotching in my vision, if that makes sense, therefore not unlike a mild acid trip. Not a handy trait when trying to be productive at work but there you go, no amount of coffee is going to fix it and it’s too early for a nap (even though I have a couch in my office---oh, yes, I do! Jealous.).

I dropped the Roommate off at the airport this morning for his two week trip to Europe. He and Boytek are going to tour Poland, then spend a few days in Prague before heading to Berlin. Fun---only not for me. I just better get a shit load of post cards, you guys---just saying. And yes, Boytek, I just said “just saying”!

And if it weren’t bad enough that the Roommate is gone, Paris is in jail, too! I think someone should have planned their excursions a little better, you know, keeping ME in mind, because this so sucks. Who am I going to text with? Who’s going to call me? Not the Roommate, international rates suck ass. Not Paris, he phone was taken away when she hit the slammer. So, I have no one to hang out with basically and no, I’m not hanging with Nicole, I hate that bitch; if it weren’t for her I’d be on Simple Life right now.

Since I am being deprived of all human contact (no Roommate OR Paris, *sob!*) it’s either talking to Rufus, who is an excellent listener but not so good at the back and forth conversation thing, or I am left to my own thoughts. Or thought, singular, I don’t have too many of those now days. Too busy. And sleepy. I guess I’m stuck with the lively, albeit one sided, conversation with Rufus. As long as I make sure to use words like “squirrel”, “birdie”, “doggie park” or “ride in car” he’s all ears. And crazy, old man hair, but I digress.

I have my friends and Rusty is coming to town next weekend so I’ll be good, not lonely but just not the constant companion I am used to having around to make fun of people with. And I’ll probably get a lot done around the house now that the Roommate is not a constant distraction. As far as the household it’s all about me for the next two weeks. And Rufus. And Rusty for a weekend. Otherwise, just me.

Not Suz! She’s so boring! I wish Paris was here, she'd be entertaining and engaging plus she'd probably pick up the tab for lunch.

I want to be like Gauguin

I ran into a friend today who showed me where he has the word “Tahiti” in his wallet as a subtle hint for him to visit there. He figures if he sees it enough he’ll figure out a way to get there. I was thinking of it more like a reminder to go, and since I haven’t been to Tahiti I figure it’s because I haven’t reminded myself to go. So, damn, I just plum forgot to go to Tahiti---I hate when that happens! I’m sure that’s the only reason I haven’t been there. Positive. I need to remind myself to pick up some post-it notes so I can leave myself a few handy reminders.

Or maybe I should write lines:
I will remember to go to Tahiti.
I will remember to go to Tahiti.
I will remember to go to Tahiti.
I will remember to go to Tahiti.
I will remember to go to Tahiti.
I will remember to go to Tahiti.
I will remember to go to Tahiti.
I will remember to go to Tahiti.
I will remember to go to Tahiti.
I will remember to go to Tahiti.
I will remember to go to the bathroom.

*Bathroom break*

What was I going to do again?

Hey there!

No, I wasn’t arrested and thrown in the slammer because I was rowdy at the wine tour. No, I wasn’t abducted by aliens. Nope, not sick. Not dead either. Just been buried at work and have way too much going on at home, or recovering from way too much but that’s a story for later (maybe later today, maybe tomorrow).

Anywho, I just want to point out a few others who haven’t been posting so I won’t feel so bad for myself. There’s Word of Fur, Boobs, Girls are Pretty. And who even know what happened to Starlett? She's just become anti-social, that's what. So it’s not just ME. If you’re going to punish me, punish everyone else.

But what I will say is it’s interesting to be working in Downtown Portland again. If’ you’ve never visited our lovely Rose City then you probably don’t know that our downtown is a magnet for all the weirdoes, crystal meth heads and crazy homeless people ever to roam the earth. I mean it’s not like the weather three quarters of the year is anything to drag people here for, as I’ve said before it’s raining from mid October to just after Independence Day here. But the crazies love this place, must be the over abundance of crystal meth around these parts. I am taking the light rail into work now and today I got to watch two middle aged strangers share stories about their tattoos and then share stories about their prison stints. Makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

And an alarming trend is occurring in the part of town where I live. The other night the Roommate was awaken by a loud crash and since we rarely get thunder storms up here, he knew it wasn’t weather. He stumbled outside to where a crowd was forming around a Volvo parked on the side of the road. Well, it wasn’t exactly parked in the road anymore and it didn’t look so much like a Volvo anymore either. Someone had brutally sideswiped it, caved in the entire driver’s side and pushed the majority of the car up over the curb and onto the sidewalk. Yesterday on my way to work I came across two cars in the same condition only a few blocks away. Either vandals are getting more brazen or hit and run, drunk drivers make a point of roaming our neighborhood. And no, it wasn’t me in either incident, than you very much.

So, anyway, I do have some fun photos of Wine-O Tour, 2007! It was an excellent excursion this year and a great time had by all. Stay tuned for more.

Wine-O anyone?

Evidently I am a dumbass because today is Wine-O tour and I set my alarm for 8 am but accidentally changed the time as well so I got up at 7 am. Yep, I'm a genius and have a little free time on my hands now. When I woke up an hour early, my first thought was that I hadn't heard from the limo driver yesterday, as I was supposed to, so I called him and turns out he had forgotten he was driving us today. Yep, plum forgot. Good thing I called him or we would be sitting here eating quiche and potato salad all day and drinking a lovely boxed pinot gris I squirreled away as a back up. That would have seriously sucked ass. Yesterday, while I watched the grocery store cashier ring up my many hundreds of dollars worth of quiche fixings it dawned on me that I have a serious mental problem. There is so much more to putting this yearly event together than just picking up the phone and scheduling a limo. That would be super easy. No, I have to make breakfast for 24 people and then plan a BBQ after drinking all day as well. I'm surprised I didn't make the hamburger buns from scratch and, come to think of it I probably could have since I have this extra hour on my hands. Maybe next year I'll stick to the boxed wine backup plan instead; we'll all be drunk by noon anyway, so who'll know the difference.

I promised these photos of Bart's wake/birthday party earlier this week so I guess I better post them before the blog police come after me for breech of contract or something. Bart wanted a fun and memorial party for his thirtieth so he asked a few of us to plan one for him. So we did----an because most of the people in our large group of friends are well over thirty, we decided to kill the youngster off. So we had a wake, I dressed up as the grim reaper and whisked him away from his birthday dinner in front of his friends and an entire restaurant of diners. Rob was good enough to play photographer. Enjoy.

Death informs young Bart that she is here to collect his youth. I suspect I got to play the Grim Reaper because I'm the oldest and therefore closest to actually meeting the Grim Reaper soon. Or maybe I just look like death, not sure.

Our plans to rent a hearse fell though so we borrowed a car that looked enough like one.

Bart lying in state at his wake.

Remember the part at the beginning of this post where I pointed out how I make events more complicated than I need to? Well, as if planning a wake weren't difficult enough I went ahead and assigned myself the task of building a funeral wreath from scratch. RIP. Have a fun Memorial Day weekend! Hopefully I'll stay sober long enough to take a few photos at the wineries. So, yeah, don't hold your breath.

Gasp! Coming up for air!

I have been getting a butt load of crap from all fronts for not posting and I just gotta say "Eh". I can only do what I am physically able do. And that usually doesn't involve spelling. But no one is bitching because I'm not reading their blogs, because I haven't had a second to even brouse the internet. Crack and nose to the grindstone. Or wine glass, depenting on the time of day.

Rusty and his softball team are off to Minneapolis to compete in a tournament so to them I say "If you don't win, lose big and make a lasting impression!" If last year is any indication, well then let's just say their presence was felt.

Can you feel it in the air? It feels a little like a big stretch SUV full of drunken WINE-O's! Just a few days away and all are so excited we could collectively piss our panties.

Ok, that's it for you lot today. Don't say I didn't post!