Blonde Now...

So, it was another crappy, dark rainy day and I decided that it was a good day to be blonde...and now I am!

1/30/06 - BLONDE UPDATE:

So far, this blonde is not having any more fun than I was having as a brunette which is not to say that she isn't having any fun at all cause she's having plenty...just not anymore now that I'm blonde...also, it seems I did all that work to essentially turn my hair the same color as the dog's...

Look Boss! Da Plane! Da Plane!

So, just yesterday, I learned how truly unqualified I am to go to the airport...and this was just a trip to fetch hubby from his week-long stint in PA (Yes, he was there and had to endure it when the Steelers won. I'm not a football fan or anything, but Go Steelers...or some shit like that). I wasn't even going anywhere which I can only imagine would've sent me screaming into the night.

When hubby got deposited at the airport last Monday, it was the first time I had been to the airport in like 5 years (Literally the last time I was there was like July '01). Everything had changed. They did some pretty heavy remodeling since 9-11, I think. The signs were all confusing and everything, but we did manage to get him to departures with only one minor problem...there was a security guard snarling at me (hubby's back was to him) when I kissed hubby goodbye on the curb. This didn't seem right to me, so the PDA was cut short and I got the hell out of there.

This is when I learned I was totally qualified to leave the airport. Piece of cake. Yesterday though, going back to fetch hubby, was a completely different story.

Hubby ended up working all weekend so he could come hme early (He was supposed to come back 1/26/06) and he was really excited. Lucky for him, he picked a day when I hadn't already been awake for 60-some hours and could actually see straight. If he hadn't, he would probably still be at the airport.

Anyway, he said to just look for the sign that said 'arrivals' and that's where he'd be. I said I would be there to get him. I also remembered how much they frown on curbside PDAs so I decided to keep my tongue in my mouth and head out.

First, we had this freak snowstorm (6 inches) a couple days before. I hadn't left the house since the snowfall and basically in the days that had passed since, the snow had been melting a little at a time during the day and re-freezing into ice at night. I spent about an hour chiseling my car out of ice and then was on my way.

Hubby called when I was just about to the airport to tell me that his plane had landed, but that they were still on it, waiting for an open parking space. I was all "Otay panky." But really, is it that hard to park an airplane? I'd think you could just park it anywhere and little people will get out of your way. I went with it though and continued on my mission of retrieval.

I got to the airport just fine...but this is where I learned just how unqualifed I am to get into and exist inside of it.
First, everything seems to be moving at the speed of light at the airport. Is this new? Was everything always this fast? It certainly doesn't help the girl in the bright yellow SUV looking for the 'arrivals' sign he husband spoke of and had claimed, at that point, would be his eventual location. I don't know how you're supposed to be able to find anything, let alone read the signs with twenty fast-moving cars behind you honking their horns when you're apparently going to slow for their liking. I swear, I nearly had an anuerysm from all the pressure of seemingly being in the way.

After a near panic attack and deciding it was probably in my best interest to drive faster, I nearly ran over an entire flight crew in 'Baggage Claim' when I missed a stop sign. They didn't really look like they wanted to give me directions after that, so I kept going. I nearly missed another stop sign just a few feet away, but I managed to slam on my shitty brakes, making them squeel, just in time to avoid side-swiping an airport shuttle pulling away from the 'Baggage Claim' curb. Clear of the shuttle, I put my foot to the pedal and sped out of there.

I still couldn't find 'Arrivals'. I found 'International Arrivals' but I didn't recognize anyone there, which was probably a good thing, cause if I had I probably would've picked up whoever it was and fled the airport leaving hubby to fend for him self. And there weren't any cute boys there either, so hubby was not in gright then of being traded in for someone adorable and easier to pick-up from the airport.

After leaving 'International Arrivals' I mistakenly took another tour passed 'Baggage Claim'. The flight crew I had very nearly taken out only a short while before was still waiting there...snarling at me. Seems they still weren't ready to forgive me for their near-death experience, so I once again didn't stop to ask them for directions to 'Arrivals'. I continued passed them at a decent pace showing that I had matured since my last pass and was not likely to take them out.

I still couldn't find 'Arrivals', and once again wasn't paying enough attention, and I ended up in the 'Hourly Parking' ramp. This was not a good idea either, since I didn't have any cash on me (I was beginning to pray to Joe Pesci that Hubby had some kind of money with him) and with my sunglasses on, it was too dark. Apparently, I was driving the wrong way, which caused a foreign man (East Indian I'm thinking) to literally stop his car in front of my SUV (as though I couldn't have just driven over it and him) and proceed to yell at me at the top of his lungs sending the echoes of his voice throughout the parking structure! This scared the bejesus out of me and pushed me towards that panic attack again. Finally, he left me alone and I nabbed a parking space with enough time to spare to actually have that back-burnered panic attack and smoke 2 cigarettes back-to-back to calm down.

I'm such a space cadet sometimes. I should just trade the SUV in for a nice Schwinn. At least I'd be less suspect on a bike than tooling around scaring and nearly killing people in my bright yellow SUV. Who can you kill with a ten-speed?

I watched a plane land with 'NWA' on the side. I don't know what this really means, but all I could think of was Dr. Dre. I assumed the airport also frowns on bustin' rhymes, so I kept that to myself, as well.

Hubby finally called me again and I told him where I was and that it wasn't entirely my fault. I regailed him with the entire story of my not being able to find 'Arrivals' and apparently also not being able to tell my ass from a hole in the ground. He said he'd just meet me at the car to save me the embarrassment of having to drive around anymore. This is why I love him.

So, he gets to the car. I was still reeling from the crazy foriegn man yelling at me. Hubby loaded his stuff up and decided he was going to drive (at the speed of light). He also decided we were going to find 'Arrivals', which in the end was really 'Baggage Claim', an area I knew well already and where I was definitely not liked by the dwellers. Luckily, this time around, the flight crew had already departed, so we were not snarled at.

And finally, I got to go home, which was certainly easy considering how good I am at leaving the airport. Not that I don't have to do this shit all over again next Monday morning when he goes to Virginia!

MORAL OF THE STORY: I am not qualified to go to the airport, and secondly, never listen to a man when he gives you directions('Arrivals' sure sounds like 'Baggage Claim' to me). He more than likely doesn't have a clue what he's talking about anyway!

This @!*# Is Bananas...

B-A-N...A-N...A-S!

Dear Mrs. Stefani-Rossdale,

I am writing to remind you, as you seem to have completely forgotten, YOU ARE A WHITE GIRL FROM ANAHEIM! Furthermore, you are a white woman married to a white man, British no less, and you are expecting your first child.

This is all good. We love Gavin and want you two to have babies like crazy! Of course we'd also like to see Gavin...naked...alot...But that's a talk we'll have some other time.

You are NOT, I repeat, NOT black (Or Asian for that matter). You are not from 'Da Hood'. Your skin is hella pale and no matter how many gangsta rappers you hang with, you will always be white. Even the brown guy you dated for so long wasn't black...

Tony Kanal of No Doubt is of East Indian decent and lived the first twelve years or so of his life in England and then moved to California with his parents in 1981. Not black. More English than anything else! What's up with Gwen and the British boys?

It was adorable for a while, your taking the time to embrace modern, African-American culture ...and hair-dos. Your fans have kept quiet and have cut you the slack for your journey, for whatever reasons you may have had for starting it. I, myself, suspect that large stacks of cash were what caused you to take the first steps. Anyway, some of them even still buy your records.

It was even cute when you started your own clothing line...how P-Diddy of you...and hanging around with your weird Asian posse, The Harajuku Girls...

...who by the way completely freak me out! I am so confused on this one and have so many questions that I don't even know where to start. All I really know for certain is that they go where you do and sometimes they wear mouse ears. I imagine you're trying to be obscure in the public eye, stranger than strange in a low-key high maintenance kind of way. Monotony for those expected to be crazy but still missing the mundane consistences of a normal life.

My friend, BEG wonders if they are your own personal Asian Girl Menudo. If this is true, I imagine we'll be seeing one of them later on as a Latino song & dance superstar...Yes, I know they are female and Asian, but I also imagine them to have magical powers in this Menudo/Ricky Martin scenario.

Regardless, P-Diddy by the way has a posse/entourage! He is black. He's a pimp!

You know what, Gwen? Your not P-Diddy, or whatever it is he's calling himself these days! You're not even Don King...although, your hair is sometimes reminiscent...

See what I mean?

It has been suggested that your time with R&B singer Eve is to blame. It has even been said that Eve is like the gateway (drug) to blackness. I tend to believe this true, but 'Rich Girl' is still a great song.

Let's see...This is the progression of events...

Oh, so wholesome and cuddley.

Still wholesome, hangin' out with Larissa Oleynik. Who's more wholesome than 'Alex Mack'?

You got a little angsty when you and Tony broke up, but it was still completely adorable seeing as how you're a while girl from Anaheim and all. Just thought I would remind you again.

You got thru your angst and came back with excellent pink hair. Very old school Gwen. Awesome!

And none of us will ever forget the glam.

ENTER EVE and the release of 'Rich Girl'.

And then the addition of your weird, little Asian posse. What's up with them? I just don't get it. They haunt my dreams...

Then...KABOOM...You're all sorts of Ghetto. Screen-printing the bling right on to the clothes I see. Well, who has the time to put on a necklace any way, a large, heavy one no less. Wow, you're probably saving yourself from suffering from neck-strain caused by wicked weighty bling. Anyway, I wouldn't have used this particular picture except for the irony in my having found it on blackvoices.aol.com. See where I'm going with this? See how far your faux blackness has spread?

Yep, it pretty much seems like innocent looking Eve is the culprit...and thus, is the gateway (drug). Although, at this rate, it seems more like you want to be Alicia Keys...you even got the hat part right...

I have taken the time to see what you would look like and have tried this out for you...it did not go well as you'll see. Brown does not look good on you...Plus, Alicia Keys...NOT BLACK!!! Well, OK, she's half...but that's still way more than your not at all, except for in the scary picture below...

Now that we've covered your descent into black magic, your wiggerness if you will, we'll move on to the consequenes from such behavior...

1.) You're makin' Gavin look bad...

This is how Gavin should look. This is how we like to see Gavin. Well, really, we'd like to see him nude as mentioned earlier, but once again, still a story for another time...

Either way, naked or clothed, this is how you're makin' him look, like some trailer-dwelling, drunken country bumpkin! And we just can't have our Gavin lookin' like poor, white trash. He's British!

2.) You're about to be a mother. This, left un-checked, could end in the result of your naming said offspring something insane like 'Bling-Bling Kashmir' Stefani, or 'Colt .45' Rossdale. Go back to the boys of No Doubt and give the baby a proper name befitting his or her British-American heritage. Maybe something like Ethel or Mildred for a girl or something of the like for a son.

You will not be raising a future pimp. The baby will be just as white as you and your pastey, and stil ungoldy hot, English husband. This world doesn't need Ali G. the sequel either.

Stop before you start gold-capping your teeth, and don't worry if your cravings for watermelon and fried chicken linger. It's probably just pregnancy cravings and not a sign from above telling you that you really are black...cause you're not!

3.) You're only making yourself look foolish at this point. No one's buying it anymore. It was fun for a while, but as mentioned earlier in my letter, but now, it's time to stop 'The Gwen Train to South Central. Take out the brightly colored cornrows and go back to The Tragic Kingdom.

In conclusion, Gwen, we loved the ska. Even the punk phase was a good rip-roarin' time. Once again, you're not P-Diddy, Don King, Alicia Keys, Asian, etc. You're not black. The only person whiter than you is Marylin Manson! Please go back to Cali and get the band back together...

Also, I now know way more about the freak-show that is you than I ever intended to!

P.S. On the same note, could we please get Mariah Carey some much-needed liposuction? And could someone please tell Chris Cornell that's he's not Bruce Springsteen?

The Menagerie...Part Deux

I worked on the new couch's slip-covering yesterday on no sleep at all. I got all three cushions covered, and then after having been awake for something like 65 hours (don't be alarmed by this, I never sleep...like Samara Morgan, except not as creepy), I promptly fell asleep on the new couch. It's pretty comfy.

I have finally gotten some sleep now (about six hours), but I'm still not rested enough. My reflexes are still a little lacking and I keep dropping stuff (I probably still shouldn't be operatiing heavy machinery like the car). Hopefully the couch work will continue on today though.

Anyway, I took some new pictures of the pets...'cause they're so friggin' adorable and all, and sometimes they just do cute things.

WALTER

BOO (aka The Notorious B.O.O)

The true fattness that is BOO! Yes, he weighs 50 lbs.

MINA

JEZEBELLE

ANGUS

Ottoman Revamp...

So, I originally bought this ottoman at Goodwill like year and a half ago for like $3. In it's originality it was 50's pale pink vinyl and only ten inches tall.

After we moved into the house, I took the damned thing apart got rid of the nasty vinyl, got new taller legs and added more foam, making it 16.5 inches tall. After that it was covered with plain fabric and then a turquoise denim slip-cover to match the rest of the slip-covered furniture (It basically looked like a turquoise cube).

Now, it's completely different again. I tried to work on the new slip-cover yesterday afternoon, but there was too much math to do (seam allowances for the new plans and such - I hate fractions) and I got all frustrated like I do, so I had to walk away from it. I assumed that it would sit around and rot before I actually finished it. But I couldn't sleep.

So, now, at four in the morning....the ottoman lives and it totally revived and purrty! I think I might add some plaid fabric-covered buttons to the pillow top still though. It really could go either way and I am way to over-tired to be making those kinds of decisions right this second.

I'd say I'll sleep on it, but considering that I haven't managed to go to bed yet, it's not very likely!

Next project...slip-cover for the new couch! Wish me luck!

The Mother of all Strangeness...

Picture credited to BBC News

My mother works for the health department. She also works at the STD clinics and what-not. This is all fine and good, but my mother is slightly off her rocker and has been for as long as I can remember. Since I was about 15, she's been passing out condoms to me and my friends and basically preaching statistics on accidental pregnancy and spreading the word about getting STD tests and such.



It was a little embarassing when I was younger. My friends would come into the house and she would give them the suspicious, brown-paper lunchbag of condoms and discuss their troubles. I am an adult now though, an adult with a latex allergy and I have learned to live with her crazy, open ways. Plus, my friends always appreciated that she was this cool about their having sex especially when their parents would have killed them.

My mother has also made friends with a pack of cross-dressing men (most of which are gay, not that I have a problem with this) and a nutty, lesbian, vegitarian clothing designer. So she's gotten even more open when talking about sex and the like...if that's even believable. These men hang out at a bar a couple blocks away from my house and she is always trying to get me to go with her to drag shows there. I always suggest that she take Nazi-Grandma, but because Grams is who she is, this never pans out.

Anyway, recently (in October), my mother had to have a complete hysterectomy due to a very large (baby-sized) tumor growing between the muscle layers in her uterus (this was an on-going ordeal for over a year and a half and included one other previous operation to try to shrink and kill said gigantic tumor). She was off of work for quite a long time, and as the busy-body she is (this is where I get it from) was quite unhappy in her recovery. But now she has returned to her post, her drag-queens (one of which she works with) and resumed her safe-sex insanity train.

So, a few days ago, she sends me this picture via e-mail...

http://kqe.de

She thought it was entertaining to see that someone was being creative...which of course, the dress is a very creative use of condoms...but for me...it just brought up all these questions like...

1. Why would one need a dress made of condoms, out of the package no less?
2. Assuming and hoping that these are not lubricated, where the hell did they find this many condoms not slathered with spermacide?
3. With all the latex allergies these days (myself included) who the hell can even wear said dress?
4. Is someone planning on wearing said dress?
5. If so, where is said wearer going wearing a dress made of out of the package unlubricated (hopefully) condoms?
6. With as faulty as condoms tend to be under normal circumstances, how long is said wearer expecting this dress will stay in one peice?
7. How are they dealing with the fact that latex is really smelly and sweaty?
8. Does said dress have lining?

KP once gave me a bouquet of condom roses that she and A1 made themselves. They were still and their packages though and the bouquet was actually really pretty. But that was mostly a gag thing...I think. Latex allergy aside, I could never imagine wearing this dress for any duration of time and actually being comfortable. Let's hope it's just creative and arty and that no one will actually be putting the scary thing on.

Anyone else have any thoughts on this?

That's My Timmy!

TIMMY! (Yelled in a very 'South Park' kind of way!)

So, my little brother was over this weekend, visiting and playing Madden with hubby.

His name is Tim...Timmy! Although, I actually have called him 'Tummy' since I was like 14 or 15 when he hit his first growth spurt and was suddenly bigger than me. He's gigantic...as far as I'm concerned...and I remember when he couldn't even see what was on top of the refrigerator! But I can still beat the crap out of him...which is sort of my duty as the eldest.

He's 21 now, which is so friggin' hard to believe considering I still remember where I was and what I was doing when he was born and he actually was smaller than I was at birth. He's actually turning out to be a pretty good person...although, after having grown up with him being a little pain-in-the-ass I would never mention anything like that to him.

We also don't really look anything alike...although we do have the same nose. He looks just like The Momma and I look like the other half of the union that we just don't speak of, meaning our father. I am the luckier of the two of us though, even if it is only because I didn't end up with the widow's peak hairline like him and my mother's side of the family!

Anyway, I decided that I needed actual photographic evidence that he is like a foot taller than I am and I'm 5' 6.5". No one ever believes that he's that he could possibly be that much bigger (He's nearly 6'5" and weighs somewhere around 230 pounds)...also, no one ever believes that I am the elder of the two of us. So hubby took some pics around the time lil' bro decided I make a pretty good arm-rest (this would be what caused the scene in the above picture).

In conclusion...Tummy is the biggest little brother ever! He's freakishly tall in comarison to the average person.

Walla...Window Seat!

So, it isn't actually a window seat. Well, I wouldn't suggest trying to sit on it at least especially since it's basically just the one remaining MDF board in the box window where former owner had five shelves (Clearly the others have been taken down).

This one remained because the idiot former owner actually cut into the window sill to attach the brackets for this now warpy piece of MDF. Plus it's a box window so the window seat angle works. There is a real, and functional window seat in the foyer/staircase area where the curved window is, so it also fits because of that. It also makes the fact that I can see the radiator a little more tolerable.

Anyway, hubby took the other shelves out before we even moved in and this is actually the second time this faux window seat has been decorated, but nonetheless, it's done now and matches the dining room. Also notice, I have made and put up the curtains...although I got derailed by the dogs so the little window is still lacking its valance.

It's fun how damned handy I am with a sewing machine. I also added some leafy stuff to the vases on the top of the mantle.

All in all, I'm down to just paint in the dining room. Although, I eventually have to turn a 9.5 foot tall, thick cardboard tube into a fake tree. Should be entertaining...not to mention I still haven't actually decided where I'm gonna go with it when it does get done. So many places...

And then there was hubby, wondering what the hell I was doing with the camera again...

So, I put the camera away again.

Work in Progress...

So, I have been decorating and redecorating and plotting and scheming (BEG has been in on this too since she's brilliant and creative). I was working on my front doorway (I have a lot of front doors so there is some space in between them), which was one of the areas affected by the old roof's water leak and has some water damage from before we moved in, my foyer and staircase area which I hadn't really done anything with since we moved in over a year ago (I had properly hung curtains over the large curved window and had made a pad for the window seat of the same window), my living room and my dining room which now has my dining room table in it (Up until New Year's Eve the table had been stored and went unused in the rec room)

Thus far, it's coming along nicely. The front doorway is finished, although, I may repaint it because I dont' know how crazy I am about the current green. I think it should be pale pinkish to offset the green. Also, I should probably stop using it for storage of canned beverages. Here's pics...

The reason there are two oval rugs on the floor is that this space has many angles (old Queen Anne style house) and it's awkward in measurement. I like this rug but the larger version was too big to fit into the space. I do plan to sew them together and tape them down...when I get around to it.

The front door window curtain used to be a Martha Stewart decorator table cloth and table topper. I found it on clearance for $3 at Kmart last weekend and couldn't resist the challenge of turning it into a curtain, especially since it matched so well with everything else I had already gotten for the space, not to mention it was just the one window which is rather small in comparison to all the other windows in my house and the cloth was big enough to work with. The ceiling light sconce has also been changed to something more tolerable and the ancient lightbulb has been replaced with a 60 watt flourescent spiral bulb...so the lighting doesn't suck anymore.

Anway, I am also almost done with the creation of the dining room. Although most of the walls are still primer white and I can't thus far decide between soft, pale green or light butter yellow for the walls. Here's some pics of the room in progress...

This picture has hubby in it. He has a thing for posing strangely near the fireplace. Anyway, this pic is only being posted because 'The Face in the Mirror' has made another appearance. Damn ghosts! [BEG, if you can't see it, it's on the right side of the mirror in the picture where it always is]

We've gotten a new area rug. The dining table chair seats have been recovered. Actually, there's some other stuff that has been added and finished since these pictures were taken a couple days ago as well. I will post new pictures when it is all finished though.

I also changed the lightbulbs in both chandeliers, which was no easy feat. Apparently they used to have crappy 25 watt chandelier bulbs in them. Now they each have 4-60 watt GE Reveal bulbs in them and they are super bright. More light makes them more tolerable...but I still hate them.

The living room area still hasn't even really gotten anything done yet, other than my continuing effort to continue and finish primering all the walls. We did buy a new couch last weekend, which is now being stored and unused in the rec room so I can get the slip-covers done (I have dogs...slip-covers are necessary).

So, all in all, it's still a work in progress all in an effort to be ready for the Tour of Historic Homes next fall. Yes, I live in a Historic home and it's big and fancy-pants and if I had it my way I'd go funky art gallery style...but I do have to contend with hubby, the time period in which the house was built and the damn people in charge of the tour...thus the new English Country/English Garden motiff we're working on!

BTW: I have posted a new 'Dammit, Dick!' on http://pluralofapocalypsedeux.blogspot.com Read it, it's funny!