my mom is the best

last night when i got home from school i walked in to find this:

okay! i took this picture after because i forgot




it was a complete and utterly sweet surprise from my mama-san. not only did she buy me flowers and wine, the table was set and her famous corn chowder was bubbling away on my stove. mmm...it smelled so de-lish! it was accompanied by a salad and crusty baguettes. she didn't stop there though, she also changed my sheets(put on my fave sock monkey ones) and washed the others.

she didn't stick around to be thanked though. i called her to tell her just how wonderful it was and how special she is. thanks, mom. XOXO

my friend in the library

i hate my template

that's all.

belated

Apparently yesterday was National Dog Day. In this shot you're looking at Ginger and Frank, not yet tailgating as they wait for something to fall out of Charlie's ass. To them it's snack time, to me it's disgusting. Here's to you, ass-lickers! My life just wouldn't be as aromatic without you. xo

Frank - The Movie

After nine straight hours of intense studying, I stopped at the store on my way home to pick up some din-din for SF and me. Fresh tomatoes(grown by SF) and cheese on baguettes with a side of redbox. Tonight's age appropriate, staight to video selection was "Frank". Awesome, I thought as I stared at the photo of what looked like a geriatric pug on the disc. Turns out, Frank is an uncared for, rough and tumble, wandering Mastiff, often mistaken for "The Creature", a mysterious beast who eats out of garbage cans and hangs in the local cemetery.

With all of its manipulative twists and turns culminating in a completely milked climax (combined with a rad case of PMS), I was bawling. And not just because Garrett Morris played Animal Control. OMG. Chocolate, please. If by chance Frank the Movie finds you, you'll love the dog and the idyllic vacation home owned by out of towners. SF loved it. In fact, he's watching it again. I'll be over here with a glass of cab taking deep breaths. xo

today is the day

i drop the cello off at the Conservatory. they asked us what to place the starting bid at. do i go low so i can bid on it and actually, maybe win it?!

fly, fly! little birdie!

getting situated

Last night we were in the bathroom getting ready to brush teeth when SF tells me to "hang on a second, I need to get situated." I had to laugh. I'm getting situated, plunking along, delving into HTML and FLASH and Information Security. I'm the only chick in that last one. Today I have "computer hardware fundamentals". I'm sure it will be a laugh riot! Honestly, I'm digging the academic life. In my younger days, after my BA, I had dreams of attaining a phD and teaching college. I thought maybe I'd teach an entire class on Flannery O'Connor. I still think a good man is hard to find.

mello cello

me with mello cello


my uncle, who wired it up for me

I'm so happy. I finally completed the project I've been working on for most of the summer. I meticulously sanded an unplayable cello. It was music in itself as I wheeled my Bosch orbital all over its tired body. I wish I would have recorded the sound. After cutting out the template I drew for the face(and tons more sanding), I rejuvenated the old boy by staining him three different colors(and sanding). I finished off with about 20 layers of piano lacquer(and MORE sanding!). The colored inserts in the orifices are from those translucent velum-like Chinese take out boxes. I have two bulbs wired in the base to light it up. It's so totally gorgeous that I really want to keep it.

MY cello, along with a few violins, a couple of guitars and some cases were donated to local artists who agreed to take their time and talent and turn them into something fabulous for a charity auction(Wausau Conservatory of Music). I will be bidding on this or force my parents to. Then again, maybe there will be a heinous slip and fall, a tragic accident that renders Mello: MIA. Hmm...

little hummer

hummingbird at rest

little cherub

june 2007

i miss this age.

behind the wheel

i reely like it

My damn Honda lawnmower wouldn't start the other day. It just pissed me off. Like for no good reason after seven years, it just wouldn't turn over. Fucker. It wasn't the spark plug and I've yet to take it in to be fixed. I borrowed the neighbors and after hitting a hidden stump and nearly destroying it, I returned it, full of gas, still in one piece.

I'm one of those "risk your eyes for mowing" lawnmowers. I live dangerously by trying to get really close to clip things that I shouldn't. I've seen sparks fly off of stone and once decapitated a bunny(unknowingly).

I noticed my mom and dad had an old fashioned reel mower in their garage up north. They gave it to me and I put in in the back of the gas pig for the trip home. Last night I whipped 'er out and sliced and diced the lawn in pure silence. Well, it actually sounds like knife sharpening or something I vaguely remember from Hellraiser.

It's therapeutic. But then my neighbor decided to mow and broke the contemplative rhythm of the whirl. SF was chomping at the bit to get a good turn. I wonder how long his enthusiasm will stay fresh. Chop. Chop.

o, monday