What? Me Eat Poop!!??

It's just a Tootsie-Roll, I swear!

For more "poop" on Riley (my fourfooted canine brother), go to Wednesday's Child (my mom).

Happy Easter!

Mom's tulip.

Waaayy up close!

Easter sprinkles K-scoped.

Hope the Easter bunny was good to you too!

Thanks for the White-Trash Ham and sprouts and taters, Mom!

CataFunkaDelic

I became the twinkle in Hobbes' eye!

Doodle stuck her tongue out at Moomin.

Hobbes gave Doodle a companionable sniff.

Moomin was maxin' and relaxin'.

I finally managed to decently K-scope one of the cats. Figures it'd be non-contrast Doodle.

Thriller Thursday4

This week's thrilling episode is gonna be kinda weak. Sorry. I usually think ahead, but I forgot to this time around so all I have to offer you is a rather strange high school experience.

I had a friend in high school who was very interested in the "supernatural and occult". Her family frowned on this as she came from a Middle Eastern background so she was alternately an extreme skeptic or a gullible believer.

She'd been hearing about Oujia boards from some of her other American friends and mentioned the subject to me one day. I told her all about me and my brother trying a Oujia board out when we found one in my grandparents attic when we were younger. She asked if we'd gotten it to "work". I told her despite accusing each other of pushing the planchette and emphatic denials from both of us, it appeared to. (Unless you've actually used a Oujia board, I really can't explain the sensation of touching something so lightly that you KNOW you couldn't be moving it but it does. And when you use it alone, that sensation is twofold.) She asked me if I had the board. I said no.

Well, from that day on she pestered me constantly, peppering me with questions, and trying to figure out where to get ahold of a board. I didn't have much to tell her other than the little urban legend/rumor mill gossip that junior high students used to scare each other at sleep overs before I moved to where I met her in high school. I tried to side track her with "Light as a Feather, Stiff as a Board" but she wouldn't give up (which by the way, my jr high friends were able to lift me about a foot off the floor before my mom came to check on us!).

I finally asked her what she wanted me to do. She said "Could we make one?" After thinking about it, I figured why not? It's just a board with the alphabet, numbers, yes/no/maybe, hello/goodbye, and a sun and moon. So we made one and used a smooth lid for the planchette.

She asked me and my brother to show her how to use it. Of course it worked great with us. Of course we got mostly nonsense. Of course she was very impressed.

Then she tried with one of us and it wouldn't move. She tried with the other, it still wouldn't move. Then she got frustrated and irritated and had me and bro try it again and it worked great. After several days, it finally worked with her on it. Always nonsense.

I was getting bored with just getting nonsense when we used it together, so I wondered what would happen if I tried it by myself. It worked beautifully with no more nonsense or gibberish, actual conversations. I thought I was either talking with my subconscious or with some earthbound spirit. Knowing what I know now, my money's on a low level spirit with not so good intentions.

The climax came when I brought the jerry-rigged board to one of my babysitting jobs to pass the time til the parents came home. Living where we did, we only had access to one TV channel and there was not much to watch and you can only read so much before you get sleepy. So after the kiddo had been fed, bathed, put to bed, and asleep, I got the board out and started "talking".

After awhile, the planchette gave up talking and started making fast figure 8's, repeatedly. I asked what was going on. It paused the figure 8ing and said "gathering energy", back to the 8's. I asked energy for what and noticed my hand was getting VERY warm. "Energy to appear" was the answer and back to the 8's.

Well, I sat there stunned for a moment watching my hand making these figure 8's.

Finally I "woke up", said our "goodbye" directive (to end the sessions and not have repercussions). It wouldn't say goodbye. I tried again. Still no goodbye.

I tried about 6 times, getting more and more panicky as the figure 8's continued even faster and remembering some dimly remembered rumor that you HAD to get the board to say goodbye or something terrible would happen to you if you just stopped.

The seventh time I said the "goodbye" directive, the planchette got really close to the goodbye on the board and I helped it along and called it quits.

Needless to say, no sleepy time for the rest of that babysitting job and the rest of the night at home. At school the next day, the friend wanted to Oujia at school. I told her what happened and that I was done. She was very disappointed but I was not going to continue after that figure 8 thing.

I know, you're all thinking, "didn't you ever see Witchboard?". No, not until I got to college. And when I told my friend J about this, she told me I was very lucky and shared a Oujia board experience of her own.

She was at a bonfire with a bunch of her high school friends. Someone had brought a board and they were all taking turns messing around on it. When they tried to get her to go on it, she refused and the board spelled out some scary shit. J got upset and someone threw the board into the bonfire. J said that board shot straight up into the air as high as a 2-story house and came down without a single singe mark on it.

I don't mess with Oujia boards.

My Super Powers are Morphing!

Apparently my time-keeper killing capabilities have morphed into computer accessories assassination.

Yes, that is what I said. Not only can I stop a watch cold dead if you give me a brand new battery and a couple months or have the digital clocks in my house speed up or slow down depending on whichever mood I happen to be in for a long time, but now I can stop a mouse cold dead.

Unfortunately, I'm not yet in control of this particular developing super power. It's mostly random right now, but the tech guy at work thinks this may be the root of my mouse issue.

See, I will be working away, print something, get up to go get it, come back and Dead Mouse. Or after I talk on the phone to a client for awhile, Dead Mouse. No cursor movement whatsoever no matter what I do other than CtrlAltDelete, log off, and unplug the damn computer's brain. When I plug back in and the computer comes back on, I Got Mouse.

He thinks I may have one of those supercharged electromagnetic body systems and when I come back, unbeknownst (here's the not in control part of the super power) to me I am giving my mouse a shock as soon as I touch it which kills it.

His game plan...

Whenever I leave my desk and come back or finish talking on the phone, I must touch the metal part of my desk before touching any computer accessory. He will be calling beginning of next week to see if this helps. If not, they do make mini lightening rods that come attached to the wrist pads or mouse pads.

This of course has caused much merriment amongst my co-workers.

One had to come inform me that I "was being let go because my electromagnetic issues can no longer be accomodated due to the increased computer work load." HahHah.

My boss had to come tell me that I was the most high maintenance employee she's ever had. I pointed out after the mutual guffaw that I still had the original chair I started with 5 Septembers ago with nothing fancy attached to it in addition to her old desk and haven't yet requested a new one, and was it my fault I had to deal with my old computer brain's repeated Blue Screen of Death issues?

Another co-worker came in and kindly put a Post-It note saying "Touch here" on one of my metal drawers. Then we joked that trying to develop the habit of touching my desk everytime I sat down was going to trigger an OCD landslide and I would start touching all things metal on my way to and from the printer in the next office.

I wonder what comes next super power-wise - causing street lights to flicker and then go out? That'd be a good way to win a bet or a beverage!

My Teacher Says...

I should put my kaleidoscope pictures in a show. He told me that he Googled K-scope pics after last week's class where I shared a few. He said

"Your pictures are far better than what I saw."

Whoowhee! Gets my self-esteem all in a flutter! And this from a professional photographer with a career. Who knew me, a bitty little camera, and cheap kid's toy could make "Andy Warhol-like" arty pictures? I certainly didn't expect that kind of reaction.

So here are some recent samples with some kitter-cats thrown in.

I know the eyes are creepy but the class said that's what makes them work. And yes, that's my eye!

I'm the maverick of the class with my simple pointNshoot and chance-taking coz I don't know the rules and I'm constantly trying to get beyond run-of-the-mill expected pictures.

But I do need to work more on my composition, cropping, and point-of-view.

Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives

Is it wrong that every time I catch this show on TV that I want to just chuck my job and open my own Dive?

I swear, all that food, all that home cookin', all that fried deliciousness and greasy goodness, all those "just duct tape them to my thighs" desserts, makes me wanna just cook a crowd happy or at the very least put them into a coma.

My menu would feature Spaghetti Bread, chili, split pea soup, C-cubed dip and chips (creamchzchili), pasta of all simple filling sorts, my pepper/sausage eggrolls, steamed Raviolis with crunchy outsides and veggie dip, grilled chz, chicken salad wraps, sweet potato fries, extra crispy chicken bites, fried chz and fried veggies like you get at the local fair, Mom's pot roast and corned beef and stuffed cabbage, Party Pretzels, shakes that are so thick you could use them for spackle, plate sized cookies, brownie sundaes, and that's the tip of the iceberg. Mostly there'd be some regular stuff and the others would be whenever! Of course this is all just a pipe dream, me blowing sunshine up my overalls, daydreams are no-mess fun!

Not to mention I want to EAT, damn show makes me hungry even when I'm not hungry.

Also, I think I might have a "thing" for Guy. Call me crazy, must be the fry fumes going to my head, but he's tweakin' me a bit. Maybe it's his pure unabashed joyousness with food. Either that or his bleached fockily* hair. Whatever, I want to hit the road with him in a souped up vintage car and travel the country eating! Late night munchies and cravin's or what?

*Fockily is an inside joke, TJ uses this word to describe his own bedhead. It's an approximation of a word grown-ups use, but for the life of me I don't remember what it stands for. It's just a helluva lot of fun to say. Rhymes with broccoli.

Thriller Thursday3

My friend J has been my closest friend ever since I moved here in '91. We've worked, lived, laughed, and cried together. Just after I moved into my home, J rented a house for her and her family (1 bio daughter, 2 adopted kiddos, cat, dog). I think I only visited it once or twice, mostly I visited her at her daycare business or out and about town. Today's thrilling episode is hers.

The second night after moving in, J said her youngest screamed in the night. She thought he was having nightmares and he complained he was seeing a monster in his bedroom. He'd NEVER talked about monsters until moving into this house.

J said that ever since that second night, S wouldn't go in his room for anything. He would play in his sister's room or outside his room in the hallway. She had a terrible time getting him to bed and eventually he flat out refused to sleep in his room.

When she asked him what he was seeing, S told her the monster looked like a person with blood coming from their eyes, ears, nose, and mouth.

J said that she was never really all that comfortable in the house, like a general bad vibe, but she did not connect it to anything specific. She said the lights would occasionally flicker on and off and they would hear loud bangs and thumps in parts of the house where they weren't. When they'd investigate, nothing was disturbed. The family members each felt like they were being watched when no one (real) was watching them and the dog would startle for no reason and bark at nothing.

J said they had only lived there about 2 and a half months when a fire that happened late at night destroyed part of the house and smoke and water damaged almost all of their belongings. Everyone, including the pets, were able to get out with no injuries.

After the fire, one of J's employees/bio daughter's friends asked J if she knew the history of the place she'd been living in. J said no and the friend said a couple years before J rented it, a teenager lived there with his family. The teenager shot and killed himself in S's bedroom.

Now J and her family had no idea this had occurred until after the fire when the friend told them.

Weirdness factors...

1) S saw a monster specifically in his room and nowhere else.

2) The monster resembled someone with gunshot wounds to the head (a concept he was too young to even know about).

3) J had a uncomfortable feeling the whole time she lived there.

4) J firmly believes the fire had something to do with the history of/influence in the house although the fireman theory is the dog may have knocked over a candle and lit a blanket or curtain on fire.

Now is that thrilling or what? Traumatic for the boy tho.

Cat Spat

Moomin: "You sniffed my butt!"

Doodle: "You put your butt in my face!"

M: "I did not!"

D: "You did too!"
M: "Did not!"

D: "Did too!"

M: "Not!"

D: "Too!"

Swat bite chomp break a dish...

And so goes another pre-dinner smack-down.
I'm running out of dishes.

Ya Just Never Stop Learning New Stuff

I learned two new things today. Two VERY useful new things. What were they? Well, I'll tell ya...

1) Rewipe: This usually happens when you take a really large crap, clean up as well as you can, but several hours later due to some minor irritation, you gotta do a "rewipe" to get what ya missed. Co-worker 1 shared a story of one of his college friends to illustrate the logistics of "rewipe" because I was clueless and had to ask. I also spent about 5 minutes laughing helplessly.

2) My other co-worker who was partaking in the above conversation informed me that there is a such thing as "camp butt" when I told her I spent all day Sunday in my PJs. I, of course, had to ask and she said "camp butt" happens when you are camping out and you miss a shower for one or two days. Again with the laughing.

Co-worker 1 asked Co-worker 2 if "rewiping" would alleviate "camp butt"? She said nothin' but a shower alleviates "camp butt". I would agree.

I wonder what I'm gonna learn tomorrow!

I'm the Twinkle in His Eye

Oh yes indeedy I am. Especially around feeding time!

Wishful Spring Thinking

March came in like a lion, here's to it leaving like a lamb, albeit a very muddy floody lamb.

This is a little creature's snow tunnel. To where? I have no idea.

Riley's the only one hoping it will stay snowy!

Go Dog Go!

Thriller Thursday2

Here's the promised orb pictures. I was deconstructing and reconstructing the kitchen many moons ago and these are the only two pics that came out with orbs. If it was dust or on the camera, these marks would be in every picture on the roll because there was lots of stuff aflyin' in the air. Sorry for the poor quality, but the actual pics themselves are pretty poor.

This is the wall with the studs exposed and various wiring. Orb is the circle in the upper middle. Off to the left of the circle is a light wire box.

The orb is next to an exposed pipe in the corner by the window. The other white dottish thing at the bottom is a paper towel my dad stuck in the sink pipe.

Some fun huh? Til next Thriller Thursday when I share a rather gruesome story.

Project Runway in Nutshell #13

I have to confess.

I totally did not watch the beginning of the show. I joined things 20 minutes in.

I was wrapped up with organizing photos for my photo class.

Basically the pre-runway moments I remember:

1) Jillian's angst about her lack of cohesion with her model picks and she kept trying to smooth down the ginormous poodle that took up residence on her tiny little head.

2) Jillian the Meatless Wonder in the totally Gay Sandwich made with Honey Wheat slices of Tim and Rami and a fierce helping of a spicy Christian condiment.

3) Christian's ozone-depleting moment while getting his models ready.

On with the show...

First: Jillian's perky butt-swingin' bottoms with their whiff of bustles, abbreviated petticoats, and pantaloons and an overemphasis on coats/jackets and breast armor for the tops. No evening gowns but a pair of evening pants.

Second: Rami with his dowager color choices, edited draping, and woven potholder detailing. His last two evening gowns were pretty, especially the black one (the one he used to auf Chris). I didn't like the first one of the three - the golden drapey one made the model look like she had a golden tumor sticking out of one hip.

Third: Christian with his monochromatic Praying Mantis models overwhelmed by ruffs, puffs, muffs, and hats. I loved the last two evening gowns tho. Some gorgeous!

Victoria Beckham was the guest judge. None of this "y" nonsense for her!

Judging: Both Jillian and Rami had pat pre-prepared runneth off the tongue answers to what their inspirations were. Poor Christian, he turned speechless for the first time evah as His Fierceness crumbled! Jillian was praised for her knitwear, Rami was praised for his potholders, and Christian was praised for his chic drama. All were equally praised for their effort, work, construction, and creativity - and rightly so. Nothing less then flawless came down the runway (well except for Rami's golden tumor dress). Victoria told Christian he made her smile and she doesn't smile for just anyone or anything (might give her wrinkles which would so NOT match her pneumatic gravity defying boobies and constantly shimmering cleavage).

Judges chitchat: Jillian was judged to be point-of-view challenged. Rami was judged to be colorifically challenged. And Christian was judged to be Puffin'Stuffin'ly challenged, but Victoria said his entire collection was completely to her taste.

Jillian - third runner up.

Rami - second place.

Christian - Winner! And he cried, genuinely and profusely. Nice to know there is a humble marshmellow under that tiny rhino hide. And we got to see his family, proof he isn't Thumbelina's long lost son! Although I'm betting he might still end up being a changeling. Christian walked off telling Victoria "we'll be in touch" (she'd generously told him she'd wear any of his designs) after he hugged all and sundry on the runway.

My Poor ElderCat

Hobbes has this funny tweak about him.

Right, I know he's a cat, cats are supposed to have odd and strange behavior, but this is different.

I have yet to meet another cat that this happens to.

What happens is, whenever Hobbes hears tapping noises, he gags. The more the tapping is repeated, the more emphatic the retching. But the tapping has to have a sharp metallic tone to it, like a key tapping on a pipe, a florist wire tapping a table, the film forward button on manual disposable cameras, safety pins clinking in a glass jar, silverware hitting a plate, you get the picture. It doesn't have to be metal objects being tapped, but the tap has to have that sharp metallic quality to it. It's quite the party trick if he'd ever come out for company and if it didn't make him so uncomfortable.

I've puzzled many a cat specialist and vet with this question and when I show them (and I apologize profusely to Hobbes when I do this to him because he is so thoroughly unhappy, who wouldn't be, getting all nauseous and gaggy), they are just amazed. I read an article somewhere a while ago that stated there are some sounds that can induce nausea in humans, something about the inner ear and I'm thinking Hobbes has whatever this issue is.

I try to keep the tapping to a minimum and sometimes he lets me know when I'm making a tapping sound that has a definite yarf factor.

Tonight, the Universe is making Hobbes miserable. I was finishing up watching Scariest Places on Earth, when I noticed Hobbes gag. At first I thought it was because he'd just finished excessively grooming his claws and got a sheath stuck somewhere in his mouth and was trying to get rid of it. When I looked closer, there was nothing in his mouth or around him. I slowly realized the storm we are having right now has changed from rain to icey pellets which are repeatedly hitting the windows making a lovely metallic tapping noise non-stop.

Thus resulting in Hobbes' sour puss face and retching.

Here's hoping the wind is only blowing one way, so he has at least one room in the house for refuge.

Off to Class

Well, I have enough "class"...

I'm just going to my photography 101 class soon. Killing time until I need to hop in the car and go. One of my co-workers took this course last year and recommended it to me. So here's to me going way outside my comfort zone and doing something without a friend along for about 8 Tuesdays in a row. Actually, I'm looking forward to honing my haphazard skill with the camera.

I am not looking forward to the drive and coming home late. But there's no TV shows I watch tonight so I'm not missing anything. And books will wait patiently for me. At least the felines are fed so I won't have to worry about random destruction to express disatisfaction with overdue services in the form of cat yarf, drapes down, and rugs amok.

Here's a photo from yesterday...

The Sun's Footprints

Thriller Thursday

When I finally decided I was actually grown-up enough to rent an apartment on my very own, I figured out the whole budget thing and worked out what I could afford for rent and still make car payments. Of course, this was back in the day when I could spend $20 at the grocery store and get a huge backpack full of food that would last me over two weeks. Now 20 bucks fills the bottom of my recycleable grocery bag.

Anyhoo. I searched around and looked at some very sketchy apartments before I found one that I thought suited me, gave me a "good vibe". The landlords repainted the bedroom walls that the previous tenant had painted a dark teal without permission and did a few other minor fix-ups and I soon was able to put my father thru the whole moving process once again. My poor father, the infinite number of moves I put that man thru, it's a wonder he said yes to helping me move into my now-home. Maybe he did because he knew I wasn't going to be asking for that kind of help for a LOOOOONNNNGG time.

I moved in and spent the first couple of months getting settled in. I had a big bedroom that faced the street, a middle room that was my living room area (where couch and TV were), the kitchen (tiny but room for a table for one to eat at), and an extra room with a fire place and stained glass windows and a huge window, practically floor to ceiling that was too heavy to open but if I could, I could step right onto the enclosed psuedo-porch area that nobody used (thank goodness, I had to put up really large opaque curtains for privacy!). Hardwood floors throughout the entire layout.

So I'm getting comfortable and really enjoying the fact it's MY space and I don't have to share the bathroom with anyone, all the cooking is for me, and I can do exactly what I want because the only one I can offend, bother, or irritate is me, myself, and I.

I worked for my father as his office administrator and sidelined as a preschool teacher then, so my hours were rather odd. I didn't meet my upstairs neighbor for almost 6 months besides the occasional driveway sighting, nod going in and out, and mail delivery corrections. To be honest, I really wasn't all that interested in "making nice". I had my own group of friends and interests and I just never got around to getting to know her.

I was home during the day alot and I remember thinking that despite not knowing her, I "knew" she was very annoying. Living below her, I got to experience her never-ending furniture re-arrangements. Dragging this large piece here, thumping this one down there, moving this several times before keeping it in one spot for just a day. It was a constant muffled din of scraping, sliding, and banging on wood floors. Usually I just put the TV on and could ignore it, but sometimes I just wanted to read and soak up being in my own place with no one to tell me to stop reading and do something more constructive and active. I remember staring at the ceiling willing her to just cut the crap RIGHT NOW.

I dislike conflict and will avoid it unless you corner me like a cat and then it's no holds barred. So I managed to avoid her for quite some time. Finally one weekday, I stayed home sick, and someone came into our communal foyer (we shared it). It was a guy who went upstairs, knocked on her door several times, and then I heard a bunch of rustling. I was unkempt, unshowered, no glasses, and peeking out my glass and curtained door watching the stairs - so I avoid conflict, doesn't mean I'm not nosey. He finally came downstairs (I put the curtain back so he wouldn't see me) and I heard him rustling around my part of the foyer. I peeked out and discovered him on the point of opening the walk-in closet where my bike was stored. I WHIPPED open the door and asked him "Whattha hell do you think you're doing?"

I'd definitely surprised him and he stammered out some lame "I'm trying to find so and so". I told him flat out there was no so and so here and he'd better leave. Which he did. I watched him thru the windows and he walked to the back addition apartments and went in their communal area. I found out later, one of the back neighbors was home too and he gave them the same lame excuse after being found rustling around their stairwell. Come to find out, he may have been associated with some of the robberies that were happening to the apartment houses in the neighborhood.

But this is not the point of my long winded story, exciting as confronting a possible thief, scaring the bajeezus out of him with my unshoweredness, and preventing my shiny red bike from going missing is.

I'm getting to the point, bear with me. When my my neighbor came home later that day, I told her about our suspicious visitor, which led to contacting our landlord (I think it was he that told us of the midday robberies), getting a security lock on the outer door and our own keys to keep us and our belongings safe.

We started to get to know each other and would spend some time talking in the foyer when we passed like ships in the night. Granted she was STILL re-arranging like a maniac, but I didn't have the guts to say anything.

Finally one day I invited her to come in to my place and meet Hobbes. After admiring him and what I'd done with the place, she invited me up to see her apartment.

I followed her up the stairs, she opened her door, I walked in...

Here's my point...

Her apartment was carpeted! Shag carpet all thru the damn apartment! The only place not carpeted was the kitchen and that only had three very light pieces of furniture in it.

And then I found out she was a photography teacher at the local high school so she was never home while I was listening to the Moving Suite in Major Major!

!!!!!!!!

I told her that I'd been getting a bit ticked with all the moving around of her heavy furniture and she showed me the deep indentations in the shag under the couch which proved it hadn't been moved EVER! And she didn't seem in the least surprised I'd heard these noises.

She told me that she would come home from work to find all her hard-to-open kitchen cabinets (old and painted many times so they would stick) wide open. Sometimes the latched door to the attic would open and close. And she'd find little things in different places than where she thought she'd left them.

Well, for someone whose favorite reading material is ghost stories and the supernatural you'd think I'd be sky-high with this experience and living beneath an apartment where things out of the ordinary happened. I was but puzzlement was huge too. I had a hard time wrapping my mind around the entire 6 months of listening to the Decorator Olympics above me only to find out, they really couldn't be happening.

Of course, once I saw her carpet, the noises never happened again. Almost like "nah nah, gotcha!"

That's the closest experience I've had with the ghostly and otherworldly.

Well, except for the occasional invisible-to-me but visible-to-cats visitors (the only time I can tell they're dropping by is the cats wake up from a dead nap and track something going across the room and I don't see anything to track!) and the orbs I caught on film during my kitchen reconstruction. I'll have to post those pics next Thriller Thursday when I treat you to another episode of the odd and uncommon...

Project Runway in Nutshell #12

I find it just simply amazing that Zombia Valiumunous has made it to the top three.

I just realized Rami is Nosferatu. His pallid cadaverousness, his shaven head, his pointy ears, his sharp features. He's just lacking the rodent teeth, the long-ass nails, and hair growing out of his ears. So I spent the entire show shouting "Nosferatu" everytime he came on screen. Well, that's an exaggeration, but mentally I was!

Christian reminds me of a malicious little elfen creature skipping around and wreaking havoc on Big People if they haven't left out a midnight snack of Fierce for him.

Chris is a Jon Waters character with some Muppetry thrown in. That laugh!

Roof-top champers and a designer walk-off.

Trippin' Tim visits...

1) Christian: air kiss/air kiss, we get to see his little Keebler elf house, he's sporting a shorter elf-do, no actual family to meet - just pictures of them, no friends either. His collection inspiration is Dark Gothic Romance. When I hear that, I think of the gothic-historical-bodice-rippers-with-no-sex-books I used to read in middle school. Of course that's not his idea at all. As if! Tim counselled him on the "less is more" concept and encouraged him to grow an "editing eye" (which would be Christian's version of everyone else's "third eye") and used the feathered pants as an example - they are fab but costumey (and later Christian knocks on Chris for using an unusual fabric himself, for shame, if the tiny glass slipper fits... just sayin').

2) ZZZZZ... I mean Jillian: what's with the ski sweater? we get to see actual family at the home she grew up in, her mother shared that she went to a psychic who told her one of her offspring would be famous (no surprise there, everyone gets 15 minutes of fame in today's world), and notice she's wearing jumpers in most of her childhood pics? Her collection inspiration is Jumpers... no, dark tights with white dresses... no, it's 15th Century Armor, more jackets. Tim told her that her palette is too drab. Well, how bright does he think 15th Century Armor is? If they shined too brightly they were dead!

3) Rami aka NOSFERATU(!): right off the bat the "born in Jerusalem" card was pulled, he kept his interest in fashion a secret because he didn't think anyone would understand/approve/think it was masculine enough (oh, honey, as if being gay didn't clue them in), his studio had his name emblazoned on it (where was the carved draped stone decor?), we get to see actual friends and photos of his family. His collection inspiration is Joan of Arc for the construction and detail factors. Tim counselled him on being too heavy, not soft enough, and he should pull back a bit. Rami said he'd think about Tim's advice (translation: I'm gonna do what I'm gonna do! I have passion!).

4) Chris: we get to see friends of his and photos of his 3 older brothers who don't seem all that supportive of him the way he tells it ("oh, it's just that Chris again"), and his friend's apartment is unbelievably unbelievable (WOW, took him thirty years to embellish his nest, some embellishments!). His collection inspiration is "beauty with a quirk" (and oh my, what a quirk it is, trim that is actual real human hair). Tim's gag reflex was triggered and he likened the experience of Chris' collection as similar to being in the monkey house at the zoo and what Chris needs to do is Step Away From The Monkey House. (Chris is also gonna do what he gonna do.)

Designers arrived back at the apartments and Parsons to get ready for their show.

Any one else think Jillian's conjoined-twin hat was atrocious?

Rami (Nosferatu!) and Chris had their 3pc showdown.

I'm a Chrisfan, 'course I have a bit of a yen for the flamboyance of drag queens anyway (I love "Thanks For Everything Too Wong Fu, Love Julie Newmar"). The things he can do with safety pins, velvet, and human hair. I loved the way the hair mini (now that just sounds disturbing) did the fringey "shake that ass" shimmer. I didn't realize those were safety pins until it was pointed out, I just thought "oooh sparkly". And I LOVE velvet! In my younger and hotter years, I'd have worn that skin-tight velvet cut-out dress and rocked it hard, even if I couldn't move. Bees come to flowers and they don't move.

Rami (NOSFERATU!) won. Chris auffed. Bummer.

Moomer Pics

Moomin doesn't sit still all that often so when he created an "arty" composition of himself on the end of the couch this morning and was gazing soulfully out the window, I immediately (but oh so slowly, nonchalantly, and casually) got the camera and zoomed in on him. These are the best of the bunch.

The artwork in the background is from my high school years. The velvet kitty was a find at a flea market. And in the top pic that's a pile of Beanie cats (yes I collect them, so what, I love cats). Shortly after "allowing" me to take about 8 pics, Moomin decided he'd had enough and zoomed away to chomp on Doodle. Nice. Obviously the airbourne Prozac for cats that is Feliway Comfort Zone is only working minimally at best.

Hi I'm Buzzed

I just came home from being out and about...

Someone I know has just gone into remission and they invited me to celebrate their good news. Unfortunately I couldn't go out with them as it crosses the professional boundaries.

But I did have plans with a friend and bumped into "remission lady" at the beverage venue. It was nice to see her with her friends gettin' happy with her new lease on life.

The friend I went out with... well that's a story within itself. It's my best friend's daughter! I met her when I moved here n '91 - she was 7 yrs old (!), started working for her mom, got to know her mom who became one of my closest friends, and her mom recently moved way far away. I miss her.

Anyhoo, I wanted to go out but not alone and ALL my other friends are married and have kids - they don't go out, much less stay up past 8pm. I called M (the daughter) on the off chance she was already going out and I could just meet up with her. Nothing more horrible than going out by yourself.

As it turned out, M was feeling beveragey and we met at the local venue. I had a wonderful time with M. We did the whole Memory Lane thing - my perspective as her mother's best friend, her perspective as the youngun'. It was funny filling in each other's blanks and finding out we agreed that J (my best friend and her mother) takes in strays and psychic vampires which is SO not good for her and she needs to stop it right now! Then we compared our own experiences and found we have alot in common. And we laughed for most of the night.

I had a great time. No earthshattering insights, just Two Grateful Deads and a mini Slambo and I'm happily buzzed. Now I have to brush my teeth, get in my PJs, and go to bed.

Sleepy time, nighty night!