Fried, green, brain-matos.

Hey people. Last Thurs at 8 a.m. Me and Dan left MN to pick up a ten-year-old used Suby, in Florida. Yes-- 1400 miles away.

I borrowed TPam's GPS & road atlas, packed a carry-on with road food and a couple changes of clothes, pulled on my new awesome "Natasha" boots (get out the friggin' bullwhip), and hit the airport.

At our very first connection they gate-checked our carry-ons because the overheads were too small-- and somehow lost them between the door of the plane and the baggage loader thingy 10 feet away. They not only lost them, they didn't scan them into the system so it was like they didn't exist.

If you haven't just gasped and scooted closer to your screen, you don't understand people. This bag had my kitty hat in it! And my choppers! And my cool new end-of-the-season-sale Van's! And the new scandalous undies I bought at Target. The elderly man who rang me up went to a lot of trouble for these-- turning all red while fumbling with the little plastic hanger thing and getting all exasperated. Not only that-- look at this haul-- headlamp, ninja wear, other awesome hat, south beach diet bars...

By the time the Delta employees determined, "Yep. You guys are pretty screwed alright." we were almost missing our next connection. We were supposed to take this little train to the next terminal-- but it for some reason went down as soon as we got on. After figuring out it wasn't going anywhere any time soon, we got off and ran. We ran through this whole underground passageway thing, past 3 of those moving sidewalk deals. I had a hold of our one remaining bag- the messenger bag containing our laptop & electronics, so was kind of dying after a while. It was like running with a big bag of kitty litter.

Dan was ahead of me and I was getting really pissed he wasn't waiting. Then he goes, "Well, here. Let me take the bag. I'll be able to run with it better." (Really? It's easier to run not carrying a giant heavy bag? Seriously??!) Those who know me well, know that was enough to make me refuse to let go of the bag ever. He'd have to pry it from my Charlton Heston hands.

We made the flight. We made the next connection, and arrived in Tallahassee a mere 8 1/2 hours later. They still had no clue about our bags. So I'm now in Fla, wearing snow boots and a wool turtleneck.

Eventually we got them back (six hours later), after this whole stupid episode of them being locked in an empty office in the ghost-town airport. There were NO employees, no people, anywhere-- and they knew we were coming because they'd called to tell us where to pick up.

I resorted to putting on a show for the security camera- pretending to kick down the door, flipping double-barreled birds at the dark office, and shadow boxing at the camera, trying to get someone to come out of somewhere. I suppose I'm lucky TSA people didn't tackle me. Finally they let us have them.

Let's just say, things continued to go down hill. If I was Godzilla, the city of Tallahassee would be a smoldering ruin by now. There would be crumpled cars and burning piles of shit all over the place.

By 1 a.m. we'd taken a $60 cab ride, lost our other bag (the one with our computer etc in it.)-- (Not to name names, but hubs left it in our cab), dealt with the used car people (whose computer kept crashing so we were trapped there for a while while I frantically tried to locate our cab driver), been directed all over town looking for a hotel by the GPS which was apparently freaking out, making us do U-turns all over and bringing us back to the same skanky Super 8 over and over like freaking groundhog day.

The last time we wound up there I just started laughing. It was that or cry. So we sat in the lot and laughed like a couple idiots, then went, "You know what?-- Screw it. Let's just drive." It was like the city had become a venus flytrap and we were the hamburger. So we fired up the so-far not-very-trusty GPS and headed north.

I was so trashed by now from all the stress and lack of sleep, it took me a while to realize the GPS had somehow decided we should avoid interstates at all costs, and was routing us through every back road in northern Florida/southern Alabama. When I finally figured out another way from the maps, we were stuck waiting for this bizarre middle-of-the-night parade of at least 50 'Bama state troopers, and various other vehicles with government seals on the doors to pass before we could get on the highway. It was kind of like a David Lynch movie.

35 hours from the time we left on this mission, we decided neither of us could function, and pulled off to find a hotel. This was me. I stood three feet from the elevator turning in a circle looking for it. Yeah, fried. Nothing 12 hours of sleep wouldn't fix.

Insert angelic choir music. This was our bed.

Look. Behold the super cleanness, the soft comfy-ness... When we laid down it was like, "TIMBER!" I could feel all the fluid in my body leveling. We were both out within minutes.

Here's me after sleeping for twelve hours. Okay, not straight. If I'd have been a robot there would have been little access panels hanging open and stuff sparking inside, and probably smoke drifting out. I woke up about every 2 or 3 hours feeling like total crap-- sweating, shaking, disoriented. I drank as much water as I could. I suppose living exclusively on caffeine for that whole time was a bad move health-wise.

I thought I was all normal the next day, but things tipped me off I wasn't. Like not knowing what town we were in, and having no memory of eating my banana, and two minutes later wanting to eat my banana and finding only the peel. My brain was trying to reset.

Got home Sat night. With nothing going on sun I decided to check out the mountain bike race at the trail. Now that's a fire!

Some of the girl racers-- Sam in the camo, Lisa in red, and Kristi in the orange. Kristi is basically superhuman. Races with the advanced men. I'm obviously in total awe of all these gals.

Someone showed up with this bike-- super skinny road tires. The guy doesn't go with the bike.

I took a bunch of video and visited with some people. It was fun, but I still wasn't right and started getting an ocular migraine (where my vision shatters and becomes tunnel-vision and I get kind of disoriented). I was like that for a couple days after my big crash, but hardly ever get these, only a few times in my life really.

I still feel kind of weird, but will just drink lots of water and eat actual food for a few days. If I can help it, I'll never fly delta, or go to Tallahassee again in my life.

Tough Day At The Races

Hey people. So remember that race I went to last Sun? Here's a Video I made of it. The song is by Brad Sucks, "Look and feel years younger."

It's pretty chronological footage. It was such a hard slog for those guys. They apparently have the same weird thing I do where they semi-enjoy that feeling that you're about to die of a heart attack. Look for a pirate flag near the end if you really want to see someone coming into the finish line on heart alone-- It's my pal Rich, who hadn't eaten enough before the race and had run completely out of gas.



They're having another race Sun that I'll probably miss. I'm driving 1400 miles with Dan to buy a 10 year old used car. Don't ask. Hopefully it will wind-up being just what he wants-- a cheap, no frills, all-wheel-drive car to drive to work and back.

Remember-- next week "Gettin' it on Feb" starts-- oh screw it. I like Effin' Feb better. Actually, I like the more profane version of that better, but by next week I might be in a better mood. So we'll just have to see what I call it--- but whatever--- Prepare yourself for some bangin' tunes. Literally.

Just a ps-- This trip is a friggin NIGHTMARE so far, but more on that later... assuming I make it back north of the Mason-Dixon line at some point.

Weird Effing Wed- creepy dolls & pseudoprofanity edition

Hey people. Buckle-up is all I can say today. If you are new or squeamish, this post might be a bit much for you. You've been warned. For the rest of you freaks-- here are your creepy dolls. ~tosses at the internets~

Yes-- I'm freaking terrified here. Who wouldn't be of antebellum debutante zombie doll with her motorcycle-ride hairdo. If you look close her little hands are reaching and grasping, ready to entangle themselves in hair, clothing, whatever she can grab. Run!

Yeah, here we go. This appears to be some kind of human trafficking container that has busted open to reveal either Pocahontas, or some woman nabbed from a mountain bike race, Bigfoot, some poor thing who has just given birth to E.T., a giant Edith Bunker, and a fembot.

Is it just me or are there shades of Twilight here? Some super pale boy in clothes from another century looking on, (probably seething with murderous rage), as "Bella", (apparently down from another swoon-fest), is ravaged by a delighted were-skunk, while his pack of were-Cavalier King Charles Spaniels looks on disapprovingly.

Raggedy Andy and his mail order bride. Local women proved too uppity for him, and, you know, thought he was hideous, so he paid $10k for Svetlana. She can't believe her good fortune. Now she is able to live in America-- Land of milk and honey, and clean this guy's house and do his laundry-- and him, and maybe get a part time job at a fast food restaurant someday! (This is almost a true story you guys... That's all I can say about that.)

One clown is crying and the other is screaming in terror as the Easter Bunny pulls his hair & lays the hammer down. First rule of the Easter Bunny's all clown fight club-- You DO NOT talk about Easter Bunny's all clown fight club.

Okay peeps. The rest of this post is probably going to be salted liberally with pseudo & actual profanity, so, if that bothers you, now would be a good time to tune out. Bottom line is I have to make a shit-load more of the effing, effing, S.O.B-ing- Imeanbeeyoutiful trees.

Look at these gorgeous m-effers. I know. I like them too. But I tell you I am SICK TO DEATH of making them!

Yes, it is at my discretion. I could just say, "Nope, sorry-- I'm out," like I have other years. But here's the thing. They sell really well, and times are not just hard for artists (and, er... everyone else) right now, but also for gallery owners. They could make some sure $ off these, and I could use it too, even if I'm only making about half through them, so I feel like I need to suck it up and make about 4 effing dozen more!

The thought sickens me. I was so planning to be "off" by now, spending long hours writing and revising, and screwing off. So far that hasn't happened. I've had a couple days off (literally, like, 2) but otherwise have been still working on art stuff all month. Now that I figured out last night I have to go into full-on tree mode again-- I'm pissed and stressed. I could only sleep for about 5 hours because I kept doing the math in my head-- "Seriously-- I have to make how many??" My wrath, is totally fucking incurred man.

I'm so sick of tasting metal dust in my throat, and soot settling in all my pours and etching the lines on my face-- speaking of-- lines on my face? That is a fucking OUTRAGE too. I only feel, like, fifteen or 30 (depending on the day). I look in the mirror and it's like-- "gasp-- who the eff is that?" I'm tired of my hands hurting and the plates of my skull grinding together when my helmet gets heavy, and coughing all the time and my windpipe getting pasted shut, and my eyes burning.

I'm going to take tomorrow off for some retail therapy, then hit it again straight through until Thanksgiving and hope I can get them all done in one mass session. (which would be a new record to say the least)

Tomorrow I'm going to IKEA, land of all things cool and cheap and seductive for the home, and the Mall Of America-- land of everything, including Auntie Anne's Cinnamon pretzel sticks.

If I find some hot-ass velvet pants or cords in a color I can't resist it could be ON. If I find a cool military/"I'm with the band" black jacket to go with my new fuck-yeah equestrian-ish boots it could so be on. But it probably won't be.

Remember the fierce coat I super wanted (above)? Couldn't bring myself to do it. The purple cords I super wanted? I couldn't pull the trigger until they were on sale for $12 at H&M and came with a free sweater.

This "spree" will probably end much like my annual state fair pig-out mission, where I go there with every intention of completely debasing myself and having to be carted out in a wheelbarrow, only to eat a walleye sandwich and half and order of cheese curds before wussing-out.

I just do not have it in me to be a total spend-thirft gross American consumer, but I'm going to skip-out tomorrow, and not do a lick of work, and consider buying a bunch of shit I don't need, and try to feel all decadent.

Cat Drama, and glasses...

Hey people. This is Camper and Ray. You can't really tell from this pic, but they pretty much hate each other. Nothing personal, just some asinine male imperative they can't seem to overcome. They spend a lot of time within feet of each other-- the whole "keep your enemies closer" thing.

The other night I went to let them in. There they sat, side by side, inches apart, looking both guilty and pissed off, soaking wet and caked with mud.

They'd gotten into anther little tussle, in the stream bed this time, apparently. It's the only place on our property with that kind of black, goopy mud. This pic of Ray was taken after I'd tried to wash him off with a rag. They both wound-up needing kitchen sink scrub-downs.

The next day they went back to their usual Spy v.s. Spy mode.

Meanwhile, Mike and Tootie's cuddlefest continues.

Believe it or not, all these were taken on different days.

Yesterday I dug though our box of Halloween get-ups. I've almost talked Dan into going in this Halloween mountain bike race with me. Of course anything that involves costumes, and is active-- I want to do.

Anyway, I found an old pair of my mom's reading glasses. I used to call them her "birth control glasses" when I was in high school. Nice huh? (I am so lucky I don't have some snotty kid lurking around my house to remind me of how old I am. Sorry mom.) Anyway, I'll probably be needing reading glasses sometime this year. And now I think they're kind of cute in a nerdy way. Trippy to say the least. This is def one of those moments I would have issued the "if I ever ____, just kill me" sanction on when I was young. Glad I've lived long enough to become ridiculous.

Geek chic?

In other SueNews:

I'm getting kind of fried, but still have lots to do in the next three weeks. The joint that tends to wear-out that connects my thumb to my hand is getting cranky, and I think I'm suffering from the cumulative effects of the lousy air quality in my shop. The suck-wow (my work bench/ exhaust system) is working pretty good, but there is still a coating of metal dust and spray paint particles on every surface in my shop, so... not super pure air.

I've had what's left of a cold for 4 weeks now-- the last vestiges refusing to let go, mostly in the form of rubber cement in my lungs. Any time I get sick it really attacks my lungs and usually turns into bronchitis, probably because they're always a bit compromised. Dan is really on my butt about this lately. There is probably a respirator mask in my future, even though I know I'll feel all claustrophobic and hate it.

Also I'm just getting a bit burned-out. I've been working pretty full blast since the beginning of June. So have all of you right? But when I'm getting ready for something (like I have been since then, one event after another) I wind-up working weekends & some evenings, and spending a lot of my "off" time working in my head. I wind-up never really feeling like I'm off, and I get worn-out physically too. Anyway, reaching the end-- getting to that hitting the wall point and hoping I get everything done before I hit it.

I have to say I have a few people in my life who will just never really get what I do, and their little jabs about my work schedule etc ("must be nice" "some people have to have real jobs" "what are you doing today?" "working" "on what?" (like it's just some hobby of mine) etc) that I usually take with a grain of salt are wearing pretty damned thin about now. I wouldn't belittle someone else's job. Why do people feels it's acceptable to do to me? Do other creatives get this attitude?

I know being self-employed looks pretty appealing compared to working for some doofus at a job you hate-- but come on. It's still hard work.

Hey Summer, Been A While. You Look Great!

Perfect song to welcome back summer-- Soak Up the Sun. One of the best lyric lines ever- "it's not getting what you want, it's wanting what you got." Feel that one people?

Enjoy this vid- Chix surfing and cliff diving and having fun in the sun. Brings back memories of Hawaii. Enjoy.



I actually did jump off like, a three story cliff in Hawaii. I'm afraid of heights so it was really quite darey of me. (pats self on back) I did not want to be the only one who wussed-out. Some guy said, "Just step off. Once you do that you can't change you mind." So I did.

I had time to scream my lungs inside out and still take another big breath and scream some more before I hit the water. I'm probably the only one in history to mess up jumping off a cliff, but somehow I turned kind of sideways midair and did a Raggedy Anne half cannon ball, half side-flop into the ocean. It was LOUD. As I furiously struggled to retrieve my swimsuit underwater, which had gone internal on impact, I could hear the crowd above groaning sympathetically. When I finally came back to the surface dan goes, "You're supposed to keep your legs straight." Thanks honey, for the timely advice. My whole side was black and blue the rest of the trip. Still glad I didn't wuss-out though.

Surfing went much better, and I'm SUPER glad I tried that. Very cool.

In other SueNews:

Get out your tinfoil beanies people. You may need protection from my explodo rays. Suddenly everyone is driving bad and being extra douchebaggy explicitly to piss me off, and everything from flying insects to jars with too tight lids are totally incurring my wrath. Something will probably have to be destroyed. Don't say I didn't warn you general public.

This should pass in a few days. Then it will be "safe" again. I know what you're thinking. Don't worry. Years of training have prepared Dan for such times and, much like people who work with ferocious wild animals, he's learned how to move slowly and talk to me in a calming voice, thus evading the deadly explodo rays.

Also:

It will surprise none of you who've been following me for very long that I'm now totally effing sick and tired of making gardeny flowers. This is still a cool idea, but I'm already over it. Like most things, if you are into these, get 'em while they're hot, because there won't be too many of them.

I swear, I could figure out a way to make gold bricks, like, actual ones I could sell for big bucks, and after a week I'd be like, "These stupid gold bricks. I never want to see another gold effing brick again in my life!"

I'm going to move on today and make whole gates out of the cool screens I picked up at the second hand shop, and after that, something else. Gates will be ovah.

Since I probably won't post again until Tues I'll give you a mountain biking update too. Wow. What a value added post. You people are so lucky.

Trusty Pam has been especially amusing this week with her antics over at the trail. If a movie is ever made of her life, I feel sorry for the stunt person is all I can say. The mountain biking is going good. We both have been practicing wheelies and are getting better at them (some as huge as four or five inches!!) (Yes, that was sarcasm.) But we still haven't figured out the magic balancing formula. Our weight is still too much on the front end to do really good ones. We'll keep working at it.

I'm faster so far on the trail, but as always, Pam has more spectacular "incidents". The other day she was riding in front of me when all of a sudden she was at a dead stop. I skidded to a halt behind her to find her foot stuck in the end of a hollow log. Don't ask me how she managed this in a split second, but she did, and her bike took some weird little hop and was hung up on a branch so she was completely stuck and couldn't escape. I had to help her get unstuck.

Then yesterday she was trying to ride up this really super steep incline right at the beginning. It's an option. I don't ride that particular entry point because, hello- it's super dooper steep, and I know I'm too wussy so far. Pam, not to be deterred, goes for it, and runs out of gas almost at the top. I hear her go, "oh crap." and look up to see her going over totally backwards on her bike. Her and the bike kind of cartwheeled down the embankment and landed in a heap at the bottom. Very spectacular.

I would have probably started crying and gone home but she dusted herself off and we resumed our ride, maybe a little more cautiously than initially planned, but we rode. She is so bad-ass. (Extra bonus dareyness points to you T Pam!)

Have a good weekend people. Drive safe.

Killed Mme. Danger

So a couple of days ago I posted all those zen-like, philosophical thoughts on what's really important in life, and today I'm sitting here eating cookies on my living room couch committing murder. Isn't that always the way? Le Sigh.

I did it. I killed off Mme. Danger. I was going to put up the pic of me with my little black bandit mask so you could get one last look, but in the end just couldn't. Now that no one showed up to my little rascally party it's just sad, and embarrassing (if I'm not supergirl I'm just some ass with her underwear outside of her tights). And it makes me a little crabby to be honest, but what doesn't this week?

Mme. Danger never saw it coming. One day she was just going about her adventurey, outsidey, maybe slightly delinquent business, and the next she just ceased to exist. Wow. So glad nothing like that will ever happen to me aren't you? (wink)

Tuesday was rather actiony. I took Penny over to the mountain bike trail. I'm getting progressively dareyer. (I'm a writer. I'm allowed to make up words, or wirdz, whatever.) I'm still a different animal though, than the other mountain bikers. (What is new?-- I feel like a fricking unicorn half the time anyway.) When it gets to the point that I'm whizzing all over over there it won't be because I'm being all reckless, it'll be because I've gotten that good. I like to go fast but am afraid of crashing, so my progress is incremental but steady.

I did wind up ahead of a guy though (yes because he stopped to adjust clothing), who looked very mountain bikey, (mountain bikey = young (most are younger than me) muscly, with a determined, perhaps even psychotically death defying look on their face, like they're secretly hoping for some kind of giant cliff to appear they'll have to go flying off, preferably over a rocky gorge full of grizzly bears) and I got massive "person-in-front syndrome" and absolutely flew through the pretty easy section we were in, not wanting to be in his way, or- hilariously- for him to have to (or be able to) (delusional much? why yes!) pass me. He wasn't right on my ass (I'm sure only out of politeness or "taking it easy"), but he was back there. It was definitely the fastest ride I've had so far with the fewest mistakes.

After that I went kayaking with Trusty Pam. We're preparing for our race Sat. I suggested the gold pants as a race strategy-- when people stop and stare open mouthed, aghast, we could pass them. But no, we're both too chicken. Our outfits will probably involve rubber rain boots. : /

It was windy again, plus I was homicidally crabby. I came up with a perfect T-shirt slogan-- "Wind: It effing blows". At one point my arms were about to combust and the stupid wind was totally pissing me off. I told her, "If I could lift my arms, and it were possible, I'd beat the living hell out of this effing wind!" She took the opportunity to trash talk me and laugh like any self-respecting Danger Girl. Tonight we go again- race length-- almost fifteen miles we'd like to do in 2 hours. Right. Supposed to be windy again. Grrr.

Yeah, despite my earlier in the week clarity and perspective, it's become another of those weeks we should all be grateful one of my super powers isn't making stuff and people explode just from my brain waves. But thanks for all the nice comments on the other post, and for making me feel all wise and shit. (Stuffs another cookie in her mouth and simultaneously iz mad about her assfat.) (Don't bother trying to reason with her today.)

Weather Fail, Cleaning Win-- So Basically, Yeah, Fail.

The weather decided to suck it hard today, incurring my wrath and wrecking my plans to take Penny (my new bike) out for her maiden voyage. I knew if I made an attempt to be slightly domestic today it would make Dan happy, so I spent a few hours -- blurhg-- sorry, just threw up a tiny bit-- cleaning. Most of you know how I feel about that. If Dan ever needed proof of my undying lurve for him-- there you have it.

So here's a little tour of some of the now clean parts of my home. This is the thermostat monkey my pal Linda gave me. His twin lives at her house somewhere. The thermo monkey is always watching. Don't waste heat!


This is the tiny cat walking across the doorway to our kitchen no one ever notices. He's very secretive. Nice paint job huh? Looks like someone tossed urine all over the walls doesn't it? Yeah. You know how when you move into a place you're all, "Well, we're for sure changing this and that?" Haven't quite gotten around to it yet. Peetastic.

This is half the desk in the kitchen. It holds numerous treasures as you can see. (Click for bigger views on any of these.) The cool shell I got from the river running behind our house. The stone under it fits the shape of my palm exactly, and has a vein carved through it that lines up perfectly with my life line. That seemed pretty cosmic so I kept it. The card behind the pens has two old showgirls on it. One says, "Does this make me look trampy?" The other answers, "A little." "Then I need more." "Rock on." I also like the little dolls hanging out in the lid of the marker box. There's lots here...

My window is surrounded by pics-- Sis chasing my future Danger Girl niece around on the beach, my mom holding my rockin' nephew, me and Dan, Dan drinking the biggest mug of cocoa known to man, my feet (I'll explain in a second), my dad, and Dan in Hawaii. Oh, and an elephant. Like those.


Other half-- oh boy! Megan dressed as her own made-up superhero (so cool), feet-- OK, here's the thing-- I have this thing about taking pics of my feet when I'm somewhere I love really digging it big time and I want to always remember the feeling of that exact moment. It works. It's like a sense memory. I can feel that water, that grass, those rocks, smell that air, feel the sun. It's part of my ongoing love affair with planet Earth I guess. The awesome shot of the girl with her arms over her head is the first time Sis ever got up on a board. So glad she finally tried it. Now she's a surfer chick.

Some of the shelves in the kitchen. Writing books, tea, marble collection, a big letter "U" I bought at a junk shop and carried around all day going, "It's all about U today!" to my friends. Yes, I'm pretty obnoxious I mean hilarious.


The other half of the desk! Part of my favorite poem by EE Cummings stuck in the lid of the cigar box. The never-say-die-orchid that took almost two years to bloom again from my aunt Kathy. The friendship paperweight made by my brilliant artist pal and partner in weirdness Linda. Assorted cool rocks and shells and bits of glass. The Mary poking from behind the scissors pot is actually "St. Bitch The Fierce". I've decided if I have a patron saint-- she's it. Oh, and my fat kitty sculpture. And on the lion tray- coins from me and Dan's honeymoon.

My house almost always looks like burglars just tossed the joint. I hate cleaning, but I love my house and living here. There's just so much other fun to be had. All my real friends are just down with it. (Got to be) The first time they come over I say, "Sorry it's such a pit in here, but-- it always is." People have to judge me on other stuff and decide about me. I'm def NOT Suzy Homemaker.

EDIT TO ADD;
I guess yesterday was "4/20"-- So happy "4-20" pot smokers. The last time I indulged, back in the stone-age (haha), it went something like this as I recall;

smoke smoke smoke
something random and dumb happened
laugh laugh laugh
laugh laugh laugh
laugh laugh laugh
"Oh my god I'm so wasted."
"Me too man."
"Ok, I'm done now. Make it go away."
"Um, dude--"
"Oh yeah. Crap."
boring foggy boring
foggy BORING foggy
super hungry
whole night wasted

Yeah. Don't miss it.

Not A Psycho Killer-- Yay!

Not only is BikeStoreGuy Brian not a psycho killer, he's actually a really cool guy and came through for me BIG TIME. Check out the haul!

Not only did he give me all these goodies and then some, when I told him I was thinking about making some kind of cart to wheel one end of my kayak (because I'm too wimpy to just hoist it over my head and carry it around) he goes, "Hmm, come back to my shed with me." My pal Jamie whispers, "This is the part where he's going to kill us..." (Yes, I brought a buddy, just in case.) -- But no! No killing involved! He rummages around and pulls out this awesome cart he once made exactly for that purpose and he just GAVE it to me.

This guy is so cool. He's got a whole garage full of bikes: one really weird extra long one he made to carry a whole bunch of stuff, even his kayak, a pug, numerous fixed gears (?) (single speeds), -- seriously, like a dozen bikes. He also had a pretty bad-ass looking little speedy boat and a motorcycle, but he has no car, and no computer. Since there is 0% chance he'll see this I'll tell you-- he's cute too yo, and single. If you think you can keep up with him, throw your bike in front of a car and bring it to the Coon Rapids Eric's and ask for Brian. ;D

So anyway, it was nice to have my "most-people-are-actually-pretty-cool-if-you-give-them-half-a-chance" theory play out once again. He seemed to really like the bike gear necklace I made for him as a thank you, but I might owe him some more art for that kayak cart...

Speaking of art, here's a heron. I want to make 8 for the show. I have a commission waiting for an order of 5, so I'll either sell them all (that would be just fine) or be that much ahead on my commission.

I have got to spank the hell out of it for the next 9 days. I'm not sure how many of you are old enough to have had stuff start breaking on you yet, but take it from me-- it's a total frickin' outrage! My back is starting to not like all the hours in the shop, and the joint that connects my thumb to my hand isn't too happy either.

I need to get some more runs in for my back. Major extension = Goood. The thumb, well, I need to start using my Vicegrips instead of my vice-like grip. Tomorrow I'm running no matter if it's raining or what-- this weather is incurring my wrath, and trying to make me fat, and giving me Russell Brand hair, which is not as cool on a chick. That is all.

Weird Wed-- Finger Twist Of Doom-- Oh, plus a zombie doll

Hey Freaks—That’s right, it’s Weird Wednesday again. Don’t panic, there will be a creepy doll at the end. You can always scroll if you totally can’t wait. (God you people are weird.)
First things first though.

Wii has been once again macking on Dan. I know! It tries to undermine me when it thinks I’m not paying attention. Check out what happened the other night when I stepped into the kitchen for a moment.

Busted. You can't tell in the pic, but "heavier" was flashing, and another screen would come on that said "like a wildebeest".

Yeah. Then when Dan said he thought I was in fightin’ form it comes back with this—

Uh-huh. See? See where this is going? Now granted I’ve been a little scrappy this week (one night I did my little elbows-out feisty walk at Dan and ranted about how “Didn’t he know by now I’m just for decoration?!” after being expected to not only feed the cats, but ALSO turn off all the lights, furnace, AND get him a glass of milk. Sheesh. Really.) – but I hardly think I can be usurped by a hunk of plastic.

WiiFat likes to go on about how many days it’s been since I was last on it, trying to make me feel all guilty and couch-potato-y. Like that stupid jungle river bubble game is so strenuous. It’s more like some bizarre acid flashback. Actually—those penguin outfits? And that balls going through the holes in the boards game? Total stoner fodder. And panda heads?—Whoa, that is just sick dude.

Let’s see you run 5 miles outside, in winter, up and down hills WiiFat. Come on. I’ll time you. GO. Yeah, thought so. Pathetic.

I’m not just pointing at you I’m busting out my patented finger-twist-of-doom on your ass.
Observe. Regular, semi-threatening pointing. (Note Mike- aka Meathooks in the background looking mildly perturbed.)

Now— ~TWIST~ —much more menacing. See Mike? The poor cat is immobilized by terror! I point and twist at you WiiFat. You have incurred my wrath!

Ok, you’ve patiently waited. Here’s probably the creepiest doll I’ve posted so far and it’s courtesy of Slagporter Beth. Thanks Beth, nice find. Way to sniff out disturbia.

Your work/school week is now half over freaks. Try to shake something hard today.
Later.

Naked As We Came-- Also, You Suck Youtube.

Hey people—Welcome to Fav Lyrics Fri. Today’s pic is actually a really beautiful love song, so rock scaredy cats, you can listen without fear of your faces being scoured off. You bangers, sorry man, I almost went with “Hardest Button To Button”, maybe next week.

BUT FIRST—other SueNews.
The little horse needs another half day. It’s taking longer than what it should, and the longer it takes, the more expensive it’s getting. There is no way I’ll get what it’s worth time-wise. You never do. If you’re just starting to do art, do yourself a favor and never keep track of your hours.

As work proceeded yesterday I knew I was spending a ton of time on it, but just thought I needed to make it as cool as it appeared in my head. When it’s done it will be awesome. I figure, would I rather make a couple hundred bucks bringing someone food or cleaning a hotel room—or making a super cool little horse for a few days surrounded by the snowy woods? Yep-- #2.

In writey news—AgentCoolAssChicka emailed little old me last night to check on the revision, and I practically spat raisin bran all over Dan. She suggested revisions but I assumed I then dropped off her radar screen and would have to remind her who I was when I send the new version to her, but no, she’s like, waiting to hear back form me!

Ahhhhhhh! BOOMPHSPLAT! (head exploded)

OK—on to the music. This vid is gorgeous. (BUT Youtube is being a total douche bag this morning and refusing to load, so I'm going to have to attempt a risky and dangerous html fiddle which probably won't work and I'll have to just post a link-- which most of you won't click because after all, you've got lives to lead. This has incurred my wrath. Here goes.) (No. Effing. Way. It worked!)



It reminds me of a C.S. Lewis special I caught on PBS once about his discovery of “joy”. Check that out if you’ve got 10 minutes sometime. (3rd Clip-"Surprised by Joy") Really cool, watch to the end. (As if you will, I know. You've got shit to do! But it IS cool.)

When I first heard today’s song it actually made me tear up a little. Granted it was one of those weeks where I fall into extensive day-dreams about getting into a fist-fight one minute, and am overcome by emotion the next. Hallmark commercials really pose a problem at those times because I totally want to punch those ladies in the face.

Anyway, it’s about life-long commitment, as in getting super old and dying in front of each other. Sniff.


"Naked As We Came" By Iron & Wine

She says "wake up, it's no use pretending"
I'll keep stealing, breathing her.
Birds are leaving over autumn's ending
One of us will die inside these arms
Eyes wide open, naked as we came
One will spread our ashes 'round the yard

She says "If I leave before you, darling
Don't you waste me in the ground"
I lay smiling like our sleeping children
One of us will die inside these arms
Eyes wide open, naked as we came
One will spread our ashes round the yard

Weird Wed- My Wii Is Totally Mackin' On Dan, Plus, Creepy Dolls

OK People, I know you love you some creepy dolls so we'll get that out of the way first. I now have a backlog of doll disturbia, so you may want to hold off on submissions for a while. Lately I was showing some of these to my dad and making my usual inappropriate yet hilarious comments about them, and we started laughing so hard I thought for sure there was going to be some accidental peeing. I love when that happens (not peeing, but...)-- when you can't even talk and have tears running down your face and you're totally incapacitated with laughter. Me and dad can get that way once in a while. Reminds me of the old laughing in church days. Ahh memories.

Anyway-- dolls. I don't really need to tell you what's wrong with this one do I? No. No i do not.
Remember someone actually thought this was adorable. Someone made it like this. On purpose. Yeah. I think that's a poo smudge on it's right cheek.

I like to think of the girl in red as some RNC delegate and the guy with the uke looks amazingly Barack-like doesn't he? I love how irritated Nancy Regan or whoever she is looks.

Even in the doll world, sometimes first dates just don't work out. She looks like, "Um... Can someone call me a cab. (Help me!)" Not sure what's up with his hat, but he looks like some kind of baby teamster. Tune in next wed for more creepy dolls -- you freaks.


Now for a cautionary tale:

Some of you know I have a bit of a competitive streak that's often kicked into high gear by Trusty Pam. She's at least as bad as me. (Not realy sure who wins that one-- who is more comptetitive.) The other night after skiing I "won" at getting all my stuff packed into my car, but the later on, she "won" at seeding her pomegranate. Lately a competitive fire has been lit within mild mannered Dan of all people-- by our new Wii fat (oh-- I mean fit, right.)

Almost every day we hop on it at some point. My real workouts take place outside, but it is a fun gadget. Lately Dan has decided he needs to rule each and every game on there, so when I head upstairs to read he jumps on the Wii and tries to break records.

Last night he started laughing and I went out to see what was up, and the Wii was totally flirting with him! It was probably still mad at me from the other day when I was making the pointer do lewd things to his trainer, trying to get him to laugh and goof up.

It was all, "So Dan, what have you thought of Sue's posture lately?" -- and gave him several options to choose from. He picked "super elastic bubble plastic" or whatever the best choice was, well trained husband that he is.

Then it was like, "Oh really? Srsly? Because I think she's kind of a bitch."
I know!
Then it goes, "But whatever. Good for you. I'm just saying I'm here for you if you ever, you know, want to talk... or anything."

Yeah. "STEP OFF Wii FAT!"

I made him switch to the male trainer-- who is about as hot as a Ken doll btw. Actually even less. It looks like at the last second they tried to hottie him up a little by sticking a ponytail onto the back of his head. Pony tail fail.

If you have one of these, keep your eye on it.

Ladies & Gentlemen, Take My Advice...

Pull down your pants, and slide on the ice. --OK. You can leave your pants on, but anyone who hasn't gone sliding in a while, you are totally missing out dudes!

Here we have Trusty Pam, ready for action as always. Of course on her very first run she was busting out her fancy "no hands" moves. What a daredevil!

Me next! See those kids way to the left? They were awed by our sliding pwnation and after a while a couple came over to try trading sleds around and racing a little. Since they were like, 11, I kept the trash talk G rated (you're welcome, mom's of America). I'm pretty sure they thought we were "big kids" at first, but after our identity as some kind of weird hybridized adults was revealed, they didn't seem to care. Just so we were down with some slippin' slidin' action!

Remember being little and wanting someone to come pull you back up the hill? It still seems like a long way up, but I'd totally rather do this than a dumb stairmaster.


In other Sue news, Faceburner now appears to completely BLOW. I used to like going on and seeing, "huh-- someone in turkey found my blog by searching 'creepy dolls'...". Or even, "Gee, someone found my blog by searching 'woman eating doughnut', should I be worried?" It was always a kick to go on and see people were signing in from all over the world, how many from Canada, etc. Now they've converted to Google Feedburner and have decided to SUCK. You have incurred my wrath Feedburner. I'm totally breaking up with you.

Just get over me dude. Move on. Oh quit it! (I hate when they cry.)

Also- hello world, this is us--Americuh-- finally trying to pull our freeking heads out. It was so amazing to witness the inauguration speech live today. I've never experienced an emotion other than complete despair connected to a political event before. It feels good to be an Obamanation rather than just an abomination.

I've often looked at all the depressing blobs wandering glumly around Walmart, or read some idiotic conservative scree somewhere and thought, "Well, see there, people = mostly dumb, following, scared, tunnel vision, losers. We totally have the government we collectively deserve." Cheery huh? I've taken coolness where I could find it, in small helpings-- people who say "Hi" on the trails I run and bike on. People who let someone ahead of them in line. But it's been micro coolness.

Now I'm feeling hopeful on a macro level for the first time in a long time. Thanks Barack.

Strange Victory

Hey people-- and welcome to Fav Lyrics Fri again. I found the coolest video for this week's pic, but youtube is once again making me its bitch and refusing to post, so here's the link (worth the click). Look for that actual vid to show up at some distant, random point in the future.

I picked the song because of it's weird, unlikely lyrics. It exemplifies beautifully how valuable it is to wade around in the lyrics/poetry pool every once in a while. The bizarre word combinations and imagery are so unlike anything I would come up with on my own. Somehow this kind of stuff pries open the door to that room in my head-- you know the one writery and art types.

The video is awesome because of it's DIY cool factor. FBO is on my blog list too now, and they're looking for band members music heads. Check it out.

I love when people go all indie on stuff, especially when they use old school, "any one could have done this" (but they didn't-- did they?) mediums. On that note, I've linked this a couple of times in the past but check out Miranda July's DIY book promo. (Be sure to click pink arrows in bottom right corner.) Genius. I can't wait to work on stuff like this WHEN my novel gets picked up.

In other Sue-news-- Thanksgiving went well yesterday. We got to meet the newest family member, my cousin's one month old baby- Jacob. Super cute! (and most babies really aren't, let's face it.) We had about an hour drive each way so I got to play one of my favorite car-ride games with Dan. I wait for him to drift up next to another car, then I turn towards the window and, after making certain no one in the other car is looking (unbeknownst to Dan-- who needs to think the opposite, that some big dangerous guy IS looking), begin gesticulating and yelling, "My husband is going to kick your ASS!" Especially funny to do at tough motorcycle guys. Yes, Dan's life is one, big, long, fun-fest. (He actually thinks it's kind of funny now, and sometimes plays along-- threatening to tear the other drivers arm off and beat them with it etc, all in a super deep macho voice-- hilariousness.)

Today was mostly spent (already talking as if it's over-- a lost cause) avoiding cleaning. I deliberated for a long time about whether to chop a lot of the back of my hair off (ARTAD persists) but decided not to, wandered room to room jamming-out, practiced my rocking stage jump off bottom 3 steps into entryway, designed logo for Monroe's (novel character) new band, then went shopping and running with Trusty Pam. Was going to driveway weld since it is all of 40 degrees today, but there is no more outside water and dried leaves all over, so not very safe. Oh well, guess I'll have to write. (secret- yay!)

Alright-- check out these lyrics. Remember to play the home version you really need to listen as you read. It's in the top of the player. Email subscribers-- I love you guys but you are missing out if you never visit the real live blog and check out the player and all the labels and links and pics. Shake it this weekend people-- it's good for you.

"Strange Victory- Strange Defeat"
by The Silver Jews

Squirrels imported from Connecticut
Just in time for fall
How much fun is a lot more fun?
Not much fun at all
What's with all the handsome grandsons
In these rock band magazines?
And what have they done with the fat ones?
The bald and the goatee'd?

Strange victory!
Strange victory!
Strange victory!
Strange defeat

A tale is told of a band of squirrels
Who lived in defiance of defeat
They woke up in the nightmare world
Of craven mediocrity
They said, "We're coming out of the black patch!
We're coming out of the pocket!
We're calling into question
Such virtue gone to seed!"

ARTAD Persists, and Brrrr Man...

Last night, after an ARTAD (agent response time anxiety disorder) related altercation between Dan and I, I warned him there would be blog retaliation-- and here it is people. This is the pic he forbade me to post upon penalty of him "going online and deleting my entire blog from the entire internet." Actually I think it's kind of cute. Gotta love a kitty man.

So what, you ask-- what in God's name did Dan do to deserve this kind of reprisal? When I was in the midst of checking my email last night (again)-- well, I'll just give you the Masterpiece Theater version.

Me-- "It's a cereal night btw..."
Him-- "I see you didn't make the fish tonight..."
Me-- "Yeah, I noticed you didn't either...(continuing to stare at screen)
Him--"The date on it is today..."
Me--"Does it smell?"
Him-- "I don't know."
Me--"Well, smell it."
Him--"You smell it!" (shoves fish in my face "pie in the face" style and holds it there, mooshing it into my face as I struggle helplessly)
Me-- "string of profanity" (grabs fish, wrenches it from his hands and flings it across room)

Then we laughed super hard. Seeing I was completely incapacitated with laughter, he picked up fish and held it out a few polite inches from my face this time.

Him--"Here, smell it on your own terms then."
More super hard laughing.
Me-- (Gasping)"I can't inhale!" (laughing too hard)

So, tonight I'll make the fish, after smelling it really good. We'll both pretend it wasn't flung across the living room. But we'll secretly think it's the best fish ever probably.

So-- Brrrr. It's super cold today (Yeah, i know this is a "super"-filled post but hey-- no caffeine yet.) Here's some colorful wool for you to enjoy. No, I don't knit. So far my life-long goal of resisting all attempts at domestication is going swell-- but my sister does, and maybe she'll see this and get all inspired to make me another cool scarf or rockin' kitty hat.


Pretty huh? Almost makes me want to.... nah. Stay warm people! Watch for signs of ARTAD in yourself and those you love!