Darn

I've realized that having short hair necessitates a monthly haircut. Shoot, goodbye annual haircuts. I'll miss you. So will my pocketbook.

Deathday party

It's going down tonight. I am baking pies and will resemble this picture in some way:

Notice the palor and general ghostliness. Not quite sure yet how the dark mark will be attached to my person.

24 !!!

Today my darling husband turns 24 years old, which sounds dreadfully mid-twenties and approaching 30's to me.

Happy Birthday love!

Delicious

Pastrami, cheddar, bread & butter pickles, lettuce, mustard & mayo on whole wheat bread. My new favorite lunch.

DO NOT try making a pastrami, cream cheese and lettuce wrap with a left over crepe.

Hello, THURSDAY

As I was driving to work this morning, listening to David Bowie, I was feeling great and thinking of about twelve things that I needed to share with the world today.

None of which come to mind now.

This morning, as I was calming my bedhead at the bathroom sink, I observed Fhloston P. behaving as a Wild Animal. She was darting around frantically like she does when she either needs to, or has just pooped, except that today she also started leaping into the bathtub and licking herself for a brief moment before high-tailing it back to the living room again. The thing is, this cat is not a Great Jumper, and she had a hard time making it into the tub every time. So half the time she attempted the jump she ended up making a desperate scramble at the side of the tub, then deciding suddenly and urgently, mid-scramble, that she needed to run again, she would make a feline about-turn, ears flat against her head, and careen against the door jam on her way out.

11:05. I just remembered:
In Starbucks this morning, picking up my daily cup (as we have been lamentably out of coffee for about 2 weeks), the cashier, an older lady, maybe in her mid fourties, always friendly, asked me if I was a dancer. No, I laughed (the thought of me as a dancer, HAH!). She said, "Oh, it's just that you have such a beautiful...," and here she vaguely gestured at her own clavicle/neck/chin area. She may have also mentioned something about being tall, I can't remember. To which I also laughed, sightly uncomfortably, said, "Oh, thank you," and left immediately.

If only

I often wish that I was Winona Ryder. Perhaps that's why I cut my hair?

Sigh.

How can I force myself to start making art again?

Every time I get home from work, my crowded little apartment and the meow-meister cat tell me urgently to just sit down, forget about the mess, the dishes, the bills to sort through, the faint and foggy possibility of art-making --- just sit down and watch a movie.

And I do.

And the dishes pile into a heap that rivals the leaning tower of Pisa. Leftovers from last month stay mouldering in the back of the fridge. The trash overflows. My desk remains unused, and I quietly push it out of my mind.

Where have I been for a YEAR?

Yes, that is the question. It's been a busy and monumental year, and rather than write something long and boring, I will spare all you 3 faithful readers and summarize with a picture story:


>>>>>> I had my senior show. We did indeed survive the death weekend installing it, and though we were still there desperately adusting the lighting as the sun came up on the day of the opening, it came off a success.

>>>>>> Then I graduated. It was a moment of terror and excitement, drawn out for three hours and baked into me by the sun and my polyester robe.

>>>>>> I quickly moved on the the joys of paying rent and a 3 month flirtation with unemployment. Then I became ENGAGED, and wedding planning spirited me away for the next six months.

>>>>> On January 17th of this new decade, I married my love, and it was good.

>>>>> Married Life inspired me to chop off all my hair, and we have since acquired a seeming menagerie of animals -- two finches (Ananias & Sapphira), an unpictured rabbit (Maleficent), and a cat (Fhloston Paradise). My life is now complete.