On Tattoos, and other permanent fashion statements.

June 16, 2008 - Leave a Response

Kids. Kids are almost as permanent a fashion statement as tattoos, but not quite. A kid can always die.

I like to think about what I would get drawn on my body by a professional in painful blue black ink, and I reckon (after many years of thought) it would probably be a tree.


Or those awesome rings like Hugh Jackman in The Fountain: not that this picture illustrates those rings. I couldn’t find one that did. Maybe I am a google imagetard???

Anyway, one of my favorite things to do is sit and think about what horrible tattoos I would get if they weren’t permanent, because rest assured-if I wasn’t wearing a permanent tree, I would be wearing something really dumb just because.

Top Ten Horrible tattoos I would indulge in (so sorry if this describes you…)

1. Asian writing on the back of my neck

2. A Koi fish swirling around a pool of lilly pads on my shoulder

3. A unicorn comprised entirely of flowers on …

6. A mother-centric tattoo of some kind. She’s the only person that doesn’t really go out of style.

7. Some guy’s name. No one in particular-just a random name. maybe even one of a guy I’ve never known…Like Cantellathe, or well, I can’t think of any. Maybe Rocky.

8. A horiscope sign that does not belong to me. Maybe Pisces. Then I could fulfill the horiscope one, plus #2 all in one go.

9. The state of Arkansas, maybe with psychadelic swirls of tie dye looking color playing gently across my calf.

10. SOme cartoon character or other, preferably obscure and poorly drawn if at all possible. Maybe the Green Lantern, or Captain Planet-I like him a lot. Then I could be both patriotic and immature!


Does your family define you???

May 29, 2008 - Leave a Response

So it would seem that I am making a giant leap from elementary Art to High school and Junior High Art in a matter of months. Never fear, I will still be rural, but this time I won’t have cell reception…and there will be a killer mountain view. Ironically, I got a job without an interview. The principal e-mailed me and said, “You want the job?” I said, “Uh…yeah.” So then he said, “Okay I’ll let the boss man know the position is filled.”

I have deck parties, like on Scrubs-minus the gay men.

May 26, 2008 - Leave a Response

I somehow have been assigned this role in life as “finder of all things broken and in need of immediate repair” I have no idea what I did to deserve such a lousy role, and whats more such a lousy title (to be fair I coined the title on my lonesome-it is expected, I suppose, from the “finder of all things broken and in need of immediate repair”, that I need a little help coming up with a more creative and succinct one).

It gets kind of old sometimes, so I try and pretend I didn’t notice the thing, or choose simply to omit the fact that I noticed from daily life, but that comes back to haunt me every time. I then cannot help myself, when it comes to full light that said thing needed repair, from piping up-“Oh yeah, I noticed that last week.” Then. I am responsible. I think I’m starting to wonder if maybe everyone else notices too, but they are just so much better at turning a blind eye to it.

Gimmie two steps, gimmie two steps mister

May 24, 2008 - Leave a Response

Last night I went to a place that white people surely love. It was this dive bar that felt like an exact replica of the Juke joint from The Color Purple (my all time favorite movie-so of course I had a good time!). Its one of those dive bars, for people who don’t really want to go to an actual dive bar, it just has this appearance of being one. I know this because all of the bartenders are young attractive women who are trendy is some way, and there were sharpie markers in the bathroom so that you could feel free to vandilize in a place where it isn’t considered vandalism.

The band was one of those bands that granola white people like-hence the reason that I was there, but the smoke was so thick I couldn’t breathe. I almost went and sat in the rafters because it was so hot that the three frontment and their overalls were flinging sweat on me, but I decided against it. Eventually, after picking a beer at random based on the label and only drinking half of it, we ran away to clean air, but before that happened this did-

Guy that was kinda with my group: “Man, I just love this place, you always see such an eclectic group of people here-its so great!”

Me: “Yeah, but they’re all white.”

Party foul, but the look on his face was worth it all. I should mention that the look on his face was a testament to why I am still single. I can’t resist the “I’m superior to you and you are an idiot” comment. It suckers me in every time.  

Cuz you’re a rich little bitch and your mom will buy you a new one

May 23, 2008 - Leave a Response

Tear down the steps to my tree house, and I will rip the heart right outta your chest. I should have known that someone who could write these lyrics would not be nice enough to deal with me-catchy though.

If I ever get a tattoo, which i prolly won’t, it will be of a tree. That is all.

Who said this: “Daniel broke the king’s decree, Peter stepped from the ship to the sea, there was hope for Job like a cut down tree, i hope that there’s such hope for me”???

At the Attic I pooped and then found out there was no toliet paper. I amaze myself with my resourcefulness, lets keep it at that.

I want a dog and a kick ass apartment

May 23, 2008 - Leave a Response

yesterday, while I was making journals for with my kinders, some little grey eyes in a little brown face popped up over the once that I was piecing together to ask, ” Mith Schwarpth, what happen ip you eat gwittuh?” My natural response was clearly the most appropriate, “You die.” “Reaweey? You die? You die ip you eat gwittuh?!” “Yes, you die.” “How you know?” “I know because its poisonous, and poison kills you” (utter falsehoods here) “Are you sure Mith Schwarpth? Are you sure gwittuh wheew keew you?” “No, it won’t. I’m just teasing you.” “oh good,” little brown face lights up, “Cuth Nickwath put gwittuh in you copee”

Fast forward: “Boy, you guys weren’t kidding when you said you put glitter in my coffee! Fancy!”

Baby teethed chuckles from all around. “Wow, big sequins and everything.” More refreshingly evil giggles.

A little Joy a little Oy

May 21, 2008 - One Response

My frosted mini wheats came with an adventure spoon today. What the hell is an adeventure spoon you may ask? It is, apparently, a spoon so lacking in functionality that it is an adventure to use it. Nevertheless, in all fairness it does light up. Sort of. Well, its not quite as bright as the power button on my computer, but you can almost tell that it has a light in it. I’m just excited that we are apparently making a return to actual prizes in cereal boxes. i can endure all the spoons of gay adventure I have to as a foreshadow of even more adventurous prizes to come!

I’m still really bitter about the Presidental election. I have nothing positive to say except that I don’t hate John Mccann. I’m not excited about him either, or anything-but c’mon at least he’s not Obama. I personally am not quite ready for a black muslim president. I mean, maybe a black jew, or a Indian methodist-but not some dood who still things we owe him something. Who is “we” you might ask? Hell if I know, I’m jewish and Native American, you DO owe me something. You just can’t tell by looking at me-so I suppose he and his people are more worthy-being as they can’t hide their past with their skin color. Next, we also have the option of voting for an ugly white bitch. Woah, I’m a teacher. i get enough of those everyday to fill my quota, thank you. Please, give me something more original. I suppose that both of the Democratic candidates are more exciting than the measley one Republican one, and this in my concern. We may all hate Obama, and Hillary but they elict more passion than Mccann, and that my friends is how you get voters. They may hate you-but they know you are there…

I told one of my students that his name is over 4oo years old.

February 13, 2008 - 2 Responses

So in the interesting of finding out whether the story of Tristan and Isolt was half as gay as the picture show, I decided to judge a book by its cover just the other day (which is something I do with shocking regularity by the by) and picked it up at the local lib-ary.

I am pleased to announce that it-thus far-has been way less gayness. Which isn’t a real sentence. Anyhoo, I started reading it this morning instead of taking a shower which means I am now rocking the ” I know you did not wear that hair today” look. In the interest of solidarity and fighting for the rights of a hithertofor ridiculous story I would like to type for you an excerpt to prove its enduring awesomeness:

” And Tristan regathered his strength and raised his sword and struck the serpent. But he found its hide so hard that he could not make the sword penetrate. Then he struck again with a thrusting blow. And the serpent came at him with its maw gaping to eat him. And Tristan saw it and shoved the sword down its throat and into its belly and cut it open from heart to belly in two pieces. And then the serpent lay dead. And Tristan cut out its tongue and shoved it into his breeches. Then he departed, but he had hardly gone a step when he fell to the ground as though dead, on account of the venom of the serpent’s tongue that he had in his breeches.”

Sweets are a rare treat?

February 12, 2008 - Leave a Response

I’ve got time to spend on a mountain trail, I’ve got time to spare on the sea…

Confession: I’ve been lying to everyone for years. I don’t actually like ice cream. Pie either, if I’m shooting straight, which I am.

I’m trying not to throw myself at this guy that I like. I’ve never really liked a guy in this manner before (as cliche’ as that sounds) so i am unsure how one conducts one’s self. I guess I’ve been infatuated with some guys before…Truth is, I can’t tell if he likes me?

And so it is, just like you said it would be.

February 11, 2008 - One Response

Lately, I get up in the morning, and I look in the mirror, and I do not recognize the person in the mirror. Not that I look worse than I ever have,  just different. Its kind of a strange sensation to be honest. I don’t know what started it. I don’t know what will stop it. I don’t know if I am just imagining it. It happens more and more frequently throughout the day as well. Plus, last night I made a pancake supper for more people than just myself. I don’t eat pancakes, and I don’t cook for anyone much less myself-so it was just as twightlight zone as not recognizing me  in the mirror. Just call me Eva Gabor…or was it Zaza? I don’t know.

I had a date with Sammy the rapper Scientist, and it went well-and now I want another. I know,  I’m getting greedy now.