January 30, 2007
mayday! mayday!

i am trying to think of ways to explain where i am of late.

now before you go running around telling people i've gone all nikki/jessica or (for the sally fields crowd, sybill), i do not have multiple personalities; i'm just leading two completely incompatible lives.

you know, much like the average psychopathic serial killer. or woman trapped in a man's body. or, i suppose, man trapped in a woman's body. that's not the case here, i'm just saying.

anyways, bear with me.

January 23, 2007
pain is sexy

my walking privileges have been revoked. i am hobbled. i feel as though i have been beaten. trampled. maybe even died and resurrected. that would explain the stiffness, anyway.

according to Lux LaCroix, burlesque dancer/instructor and all-around lovely lady, when performing, we are taking the long and winding road to boobville. were we to cross the delicate line between class, a la sally rand, and crass, a la jenna jameson, we would be zooming down the autobahn.

who knew the scenic route would be so painful? floor work is not your friend, people. my knees and the tops of my feet are all bruisey and hurty and generally displeased. they are lodging a formal complaint. my core muscles are achey and hot. i'm sure working on my tattoo the day before didn't help, but the crawling across the floor and the popping up and down and squats and splits and oh god make it stop. i’m having flashbacks. ptsd! my persona might have to be obsessive compulsive, just to give me reason to stay off the damn floor. she will perform from inside a giant clear plastic bubble. hamster von teese.


January 18, 2007
float like a butterfly, sting like a bee

in other words, i am the greatest-- for behold what i have created!

click for big

closeup! wooo wooo!

my crowning glory, as i like to call it, was created based on the pomatomus sock pattern. except i made it a glove. and i made it inside out. intentionally, as the purl side was prettier, but then i had to reverse half the pattern in my head, for to make the purl side with the stockinette palm. it was all very mathy and knitty and the teensy tiny needles (zeros!) gave me a blister, so i'm quite glad it's over.

tomorrow morning is traffic court. sacrifice some chickens for me, would you?

also, following in the formidible footsteps of jiggs casey and subsequently the still-hibernating monkey, and i have joined consumating. you can view my profile in progress here. the reason my main picture is that moose is because the theme this week is "favorite tshirt." that one's mine. i traded my dirty wifebeater to a stranger in a bar for it.

i also joined another "dating" site, but the whole thing is very stressful and makes me feel pressure in my chest and sort of like i need to barph (tm) and so i think i might delete the whole thing.

and i need to take some better pictures of myself. unless me as a granny is a winner.... anyone?

this post sucks.

January 16, 2007
i am a dancing fool

burlesque class was excellent. i am a better dancer than i have been giving myself credit for. the only bad thing about it is when i stopped shaking my ass intentionally, there was some noticeable residual shake. no one likes residual shake. maybe i should “exercise” or something. something like not eat so many cookies.

i plan to be the geeky burlesque girl, something like a sexy librarian if you will. because my plans are so high-falutin’, i may require help constructing/aquiring a collection of the necessary music and costumes, including this one, a variation on this one, and of course something that would adequately serve these purposes.

i have not yet thought of a good stage name, but i’m partial to pepper something. do not ask why- just know that i am an intergalactic phenomenon.

now i must go have more delightful pms. pms rules me. i am its slave.

January 12, 2007
friday leftovers

i thought i had traffic court this morning for my bogus ticket, but i was wrong. it's next week. now i have another seven days to freak out about potentially having to pay a $350 ticket. hooray!

then on the way to work i discovered a certain somebody who shall remain nameless (but who FAILED in trying to fix my electronic boyfriend) had been disrespectful of my cds when he last borrowed my car and i was so filled with anger i nearly popped. instead, i had a little panic attack and realized i need to move immediately.

now i'm compiling a list of things i will need when i move, because i am poor and also because i'd rather spend my money on fun things, like strippers and blow.

so far my list is incredibly interesting things like:
bed/sheets (seriously, i don't have a fucking bed.)
tv/dvd player
and so on. it looks like my first night in the new place (and yes, i realize this is two months away) will be me sleeping on my pile of fabric and yarn and then eating cereal from a muffin tin or a bundt pan. but i'm hoping to accumulate all those things so i can start a new list of things i want just because, like an adjustable dress form, and a spinning wheel, and a pregnant albino pygmy unicorn.

this weekend i'm taking my first burlesque class, which should prove very exciting. also, i will be digging for buried treasure, with which i will pay my ticket (maybe) and buy a giant bed for to sleep in all by my lonesome.

except with cats. and tiny baby unicorns.

who will have little safety bumpers, so they don't puncture my delicate flesh in the night.

January 10, 2007
the surreal life

since i'm all single and what not, i have enlisted help in preparing myself to reenter the dating world. this endeavor is less than appealing to me, as most people are stupid and have subpar personal hygiene. being the marvelous chap that he is, anonymous coworker has compiled a handy list of questions to help me weed out the failures and find my perfect mate, my coffeemate(?), my eierlegende wollmilchsau.

i hope clive owen can answer these properly.

since i haven't met or conjured or electronically created my milk-giving egg-laying wool pig (yet), i have been taking things into my own hands. literally. until disaster! catastrophe! and oh the horror! my tiny fingertip vibrator broke and i spent about ten minutes trying different batteries, repeatedly switching the positive/negative ends and ignoring the visibly broken part, clearly illustrating my vast knowledge of tekmology.

and then the most surreal few moments of my life... wherein my incredibly estranged exboyfriend calmed me, turned on the overhead light, and began stripping the wires for to solder them back together.

somebody find me that pig before i go completely crazy.

January 08, 2007
long post off the port bow

so i went “home” for the holidays, and right off the bat i was taken by surprise: massachusetts is still there, even after two years without me. i don’t know how it manages. i mean, i knew people still lived there- everything i know i learned from the internets- but i was under the impression that civilization had just crumbled in my absence and everyone was all, “multipass!” as they sped around the thunderdome.

on the plane, i sat and quietly knitted beside a very handsome man, who remained that way until he farted and then breathed a miasma of sleepy mouth air and probably airborne disease on me. i nearly died. i didn’t try to knit on the way back, because logan as a whole is elderly-british-catholic-school-marm-type uptight and i figured if i have to check a container of fluff, i should probably just put the needles away. thus flying was boring and hard. i nearly died.

upon my arrival, i drove to my parent’s house in a rental car that was so bright in color it was viewable from space. i feared for my life, as surely there were government officials monitoring my movement. they must know where the hotness is at all times- it’s a matter of national security! just imagine the consequences if i were to fall into the wrong hands! red alert! red alert! awooooooga!

that night, the mishpacha (that’s jewish for family, in case you goyim are too lazy to google it) went to dinner, where i casually (and dinner-appropriately) mentioned that i fully expected to bring the meal back to California (see: my long and storied past involvements with slothful and indolent faeries). then the faeries taught me a lesson. they taught it to me painfully, and they taught it to me every damn day. i nearly died.

on saturday i saw my beeb, and learned there is to be a beeblet! a beebie! a tiny alien lodged in her belly that hates swiss cheese! it’s all very exciting, except that at the rate i see her, she will have a beebager covered in acne at our next rendezvous. either way, this is fabulous news, and maybe if she calls me when she goes into labor, i can hop a red eye and land just in time to trap the little beebidoux. i’m searching ebay for a pattern for a catcher’s mitt. i’m thinking pre-treated ultra suede..no stains! spills just bead right off!

christmas eve there was chinese food and hanging out with possibly my most favoritest person on the whole earth (he needs a blog name), and there was singing in the car and nostalgia and a great sense of relief that we are finally and celebratorially (is this a word? yes. why? Year of Me, bitches.) friends again. this was possibly the best present i received, though i did receive some doozies, including gift cards, and a vintage book, and jammies and a crazy fur stole thingie that’s simultaneously so awesome and yet so fucking scary that i worship it out of equal parts love and irrational terror at its deadness.

xmas was for food and more time with my family/friends. post food, i dug through the attic and donated a bunch of my old crap to goodwill. then i bought some new crap from the goodwill. it’s the circle of life.

i spent some quality time with my friend The Reverend Ray, who is planning to go teach english to scandanavians,. we ate at the restaurant i used to work in, and here is the cell picture he took of me, with my craptacular phone, breaking the law (breaking the law! breaking the law!) by crossing the velvet rope, and sitting on a throne of lies.

then the faeries did their death magic on me, and i took ray home.

sprinkled through the week (mostly post stomach coup) i did some knitting- a dog sweater commissioned by my coworker for her yorkie.
aside: when it was complete, it seemed a little small, so i found myself a model, who though slightly larger than the intended recipient, casually posed for both side and front views.

my last day in MA was spent with my restaurant peeps, including BigBrother, who is pretty much the only person i actually pick up the phone for. that makes him royalty. i got a little drunk (meaning, drunk, but didn’t throw up) and i had what was by far the culinary highlight of my trip:

new england roast beast sammiches.
i cried a little, they were so good.
one could almost say i nearly died.

but only a little.

January 04, 2007
reason #457 why i need serious therapy

i spent much of my car ride home last night rationalizing my opinion that while neither is really my cup of tea, bo bice is exponentially superior to chris daughtry.

except bo bice needs a damn haircut, that hippie.

(real post coming soon.)

January 02, 2007

there is much for me to share in regards to my trip back east. the sole disappointment of my adventure was that it provided no time for me to visit my luminous spinnerina, nor my intoxicating tits mcgee. it did however, afford ample time for me to “self-reflect,” which is to say “wallow in the many disappointments of 2006” and also maybe “curse the heavens above” but that’s only because they made me so damn beautiful.

2006 was a hard year for me. the year started with a bang and a neck brace, then slipped seamlessly into sexual harassment, financial insecurities, unemployment, sickness, and of course, a wounded heart. there were some incredibly and gloriously bright spots in '06 though. and of course i’m still poor in ’07, but i’m trying not to let it get the best of me.

in the spirit of not letting it get the best of me, i welcome you all to 2007: The Year of Me. you’re probably thinking that this seems odd and vaguely selfish, and you are right, but this is The Year of Me and you are my minions and so you will celebrate and revel and defer to me on this, as in all relevant matters.

The Year of Me is a long time coming. if you know me well, or maybe even if you don’t, you know that i have a slight difficulty saying no, and not just to cookies. you know that in spite of how i appear superficially (some people have insinuated that sometimes maybe i come off a little mean), i am not a fighter. i am honest— very honest, and this is where the “mean” comes in— when honesty is the best policy, but that isn’t always the case. sometimes things have to get done, and i happen to be non-confrontational and efficient, and so it’s just easier to do them myself than to fight about it. also, sometimes i actually don’t mind. but.

2007 will not be easy. this year, if i want to say no, i will say no. i might even shout it, and do a little crane kick. this year, when people fuck up my food at the farmer’s market, i will make them fix it even if it takes a fourth time. because i paid for it, and i am hungry, and dammit, your shitty attitude will not keep me from eating shwarma in The Year of Me!

The Year of Me will also involve me actually doing activities i enjoy, instead of just thinking about them. i would like to take a dance class or three. maybe tap, because i like noise and also my feathered pillbox hat would be darling. or maybe bellydance, or a burlesque class, so i can wear pasties and sequins and also sequined pasties. you know, more than i already do.

i’m also going to continue to knit. and sew. and maybe show a little more here of what I do, so that when the time comes (and lo! it is coming) you can help me launch my line of bags and fun handcrafted whoosiewhatsies and snorfblatts. collect them all!

the most important “resolution” for this Year of Me is this: no sex in ’07. how is this different from ’06 you ask? the reason. in ’06 i had some sex, and then i had less, and soon after that i had none— because i fell out of love. in ’07 there will be no sex because i am in love once again; i love how much more of myself i have become of late, and i want to see how much more i can be. i like my life. i love my friends. i don’t need any distractions, and since i have a history of falling into relationships and staying in them well past their expiration date, this year, the only hand in my pants will be my own. and that’s ok.


2007 will be sex free, but chock full of knitting. and dating in LA stories. and crane kicks when those losers try to kiss me. i’m going to shake my ass a little, and glue sequins all over myself for fun. rhinestones, too. and maybe some brightly colored feathers. because in order to truly appreciate myself, the outside is going to have to match the inside completely.

golden state