Skip day!-- get your fash-on.

Hey people. Last week I took a skip day. You may remember- skipping is one of the few elicit thrills I still indulge from time to time, and it's even more fun when I can corrupt a friend. This time, as I pulled out of my driveway, I made a last minute, long-shot phone call to T Pam's work.

"Guess what I'm doing today."
"Uh, welding?"
"Nope. Skipping. I'm on my way to IKEA and The Mall. I could easily stop by your work and pick you up...."
~long seconds of silence~
"Give me ten minutes."

Yay! It was ON! IKEA has, among its many wonders, lingonberry soda. Yum.

The Mall has, among its many wonders, Auntie Anne's pretzel sticks. Pam went for the regular, while I got my usual-- cinnamon.

The superiority of my pretzel sticks is irrefutable. Sugar + cinnamon, on warm chewy bread. I'm drooling just typing this.

Back to IKEA-- we had a lot of fun wandering around in all the room and apartment settings. When I saw this giant pile of dead cows I was super grossed-out. Pam comes from a long line of savage hunters and was, as almost always, non-plussed. She was happy to pose with them, not quite understanding I was hoping for a more repulsive pose.

A second later I asked her to roll around on them. She obliged. (Sometimes being my friend is a lot of work.) My camera fuzzed-out though so that shot was ruined. But way to be a good sport Pam! (and way to make cow skins look fashionable!)

One of the stops at The Mall we made was DSW, aka shoe mecca. Check these cat woman boots. I can't look at them without making a big "re-owwww" cat screech in my head and cracking a bull whip.

And these are for going to the Grammys in...

Don't make me get tough with you...

Pam said, "There's two kinds of shoes- eff you shoes and eff-me shoes."

I'd never heard that before, but I guess these would be the eff-me's? I'm sometimes drawn to stuff like this the way your brain just fires off-- "OOOOO pretty!" without any practical thought at all.

Then I remember-- This isn't me...

This is.

Sometimes I make futile misguided attempts at being fancy.

But I pretty much am not.

My life isn't so much this--

As this--

Even though I sometimes really wish I could pull this off--

Even if I could ever become that skinny and elongated and fashionable, it would still just be regular old dorky me tottering around on my glamorous stork legs. I've complained about my legs (and other various parts), to Pam's irritation, ever since she's known me. It's an annoying habit, running yourself down. Also not so good for your energy/attitude.

She often gruffly reminds me, "Well, our legs may not be much to look at, but they get us around, and we can do a lot of stuff a lot of other people our age can't with them. So there."

Pam often makes such plucky statements. If you ever had to hit the road, like some depression era dames, roughing it and making your way in the cold cruel world, she'd be good to have along.

She's right of course. I'd take my legs over that model's legs any day, as long as they keep allowing me to have as much fun as I do on them. So forget high heels. These are what do the job for me and my life.

But I have to say I'd totally wear these!

And these!

What about you guys? Do you have any secret fashion fetishes? Do you sometimes wish you were more glam? or more sporty? Is there a difference between the shoes of your dreams and the shoes of your actual life?

I used to think "when I grew-up" I'd shop at Anne Taylor. Somehow at 45, they STILL seem too grown-up for me. I have a hard time being comfortable in anything other than "play clothes" it seems. You??

Day Off

So yesterday was my first day off in ages. It was weird because I (as usual) pictured it being this mind blowing fun fest that involved some leaping around and maybe throwing papers into the air, but no. None of that actually happened. (Ok- on my run in the woods when no one was around there was a tiny amount of leaping, and one brief "woot-ing" incident with my arms shot above my head. Don't tell anyone.)

I basically took my sweet old time getting out of the house and went to a matinee and ate a small bag of m & m's for lunch. I saw "Adventureland" which I think is another Jud Aptow flick. It was interesting. Just me and three pairs of guys in the whole place, and it was dude-head-space central. It's always revealing to see how they write the girls-- they're so powerful and the guys are totally at their mercy, in constant pursuit. Even sixteen year old girls are like 40 y/o's in young hot bods-- completely in command and aware of their sexual powers. Like I said, interesting.

After that I went to Target and got a bunch of swimsuits for my annual masochistic swim suit try-on session. Thanks to all the running it was slightly less suicidal this year. I actually liked a couple of them. The rest-- back to the rack! When you spend as much time on rivers as I do (kayak) you need more than one suit.

Yeah, then I still was feeling a little restless and wound up and began fantasizing about all the potential fun I could have this summer, and thinking about me and Trusty Pam's convo about wishing we had more playmates, like a secret club or something, like when you were little and would make little clubs with codes and hand signals etc and get into all kinds of trouble together and I came up with THIS. If you know of any potential Danger Girls swing 'em our way.

Here are some of the pendants left over from the show. They're $6, chains are $5. I'll send them to you for $2 shipping. (Click pics for zoomed view)

Thank God there is finally someone giving a voice to these important causes.

Feelin’ a little sweary? These little effers let you get it all out, subtly. If you select any of these options, congrats—you are officially edgy now. Enjoy the disapproving looks of those who actually notice.
If you are having at least 30% more fun than normally permissible, the least you can do is warn others.
Are your exits often accompanied by a dismissive wave of the hand? This one could be for you my friend. There wasn't enough room for "Get lost do-gooders. Save your effin' breath!"

I also have a bunch of "pwn" ones.

FYI: PWN= 1. An act of dominating an opponent. 2. Great, ingenious; applied to methods and objects.
Originally dates back to the days of WarCraft, when a map designer misspelled "Own" as "Pwn". Pwn eventually grew from there and is now used throughout the online world, especially in online games.

I also have a bunch of "not scrd" which would be perfect for any Danger Girls out there.

They are coolest when combined. I'll happily hook you up with a pwntastic mix of shapes if you want.

That's it for now peeps. Today is domestic bliss day around here. grocery shopping, maybe some actual cooking, cleaning (ugh), getting sidetracked by anything shiny or weird because of how much I hate cleaing, etc etc. Perhaps it will yeild another archeoligical excavation. Stay tuned.

Skipping Is Rad, Oh, And Step Off Psychotic Stalkers!

Hey people. Be cool, DO NOT call attention to us, but, me and Linda are totally skipping today. SHHHH! I said be cool people! Do not make me come over there and glare menacingly at you with my black eyeliner and flick butts at you. (Well, truthfully, those days are over, but still...) (~glare~)

We're both supposed to be working, but are taking off for Buffalo-- A quaint, antiquey, small town that manages, in our demented hands, to become a hot-bed of disturbia every couple of months. We unearth its underlying subversive creepiness. Believe me, even if it's completely normal-- that-- its essential normality-- will become disturbingly bizarre (and usually hilarious) to us. Good times.

Also, a note to all you "possibly psychotic internet weirdos" (yes-- that's a direct quote) out there who frequent mah blog-- my parents are totally on to you man. They have expressed their concern about me being so "out there", and are keeping their eye on you-- general public. I guess they don't actually read my blog often enough to know about my Gold Pants Super Hero Crime Fighting Force, renowned hands of fury, or the fact that I point out places you may "relentlessly stalk me" right in my headlines.

In case any actual psychos out there are contemplating stalking me, you know, not in a good way, just take heed-- I live in an undisclosed location (meaning if you found me it's possible dick Chaney may try to blow your face off-- maybe, if he's not busy), and am guarded 24-7 by a pack of ravenous cats. Also, Trusty Pam is frequently nearby and, as previously stated, has amazing strength. There are also my work gloves which increase my own strength ten-fold, plus, you know, my parents. I don't think you want to tangle with a man who has endured 31 shots in the man-ha and lived to tell about it. And my mom has always been pretty scary when she wants to be. So, Don't say i didn't warn you.

Skip Day- BooOO0Ooowp! Boo0O0Ooowp!

SHH! You'll totally get us busted man-- chill!

Today is a skip day! Trusty Pam is ditching work (Ok, they don't actually care-- it's slow, but go with it) and I have SO much work to do-- but screw it. Skip - Skip - Skip - Skip!

We're going to (insert echo-y announcer voice) The MALL Of AmERicAH! It's like fifteen below zero today, and the mall is 50 miles from my house, but the mall has Auntie Annie's pretzels darn it, and we've been fantasizing about getting some for nearly a year. So we're going to go to the mall and get cinnamon pretzel sticks and walk around.

We'll shut down all the kiosk lotion rubbers who say, "Excuse me, can I ask you a question?" -- extending their lotion pumps at us. "NO," we'll snap, dismissing them with out mighty palms of "No." Negatory, mornin' glory.

We'll wear tons of black eyeliner and sneer at the mall cops-- "Back off fuzz," and lounge broodily on planters and benches slurping on enormous soft drinks, and chain smoke. This is all assuming we find a time machine somewhere. Otherwise we'll probably just get the pretzels, have lunch, walk around the mall a few times, and head home.

But we won't be working.

I know, try not to hate us too much. We're doing this for you, general public. If you are a criminal and plan on going to the mall today-- consider yourself warned. (Need I remind you of the hands of fury? The power pants? Pam's terrifying super strength?) Also, if you are a giant rule follower who's never skipped before, you're welcome for the vicarious thrill. (Also, if you ARE a giant rule follower, you should really work on that.) Think of us as your personal bad-ass role models. Yeah, the mall, pretzels... what could be more edge?

Skip Day! Wooo Hooo!

Ok, so here's a dream for you:
I was trying to escape from this Texas timeshare salesman on a snow saucer in the middle of downtown Minneapolis when I met this diminutive black dude (not Prince) dressed as Little Lord Fauntleroy. He came up to me as I was getting off my sled at the bottom of a hill with a cocktail in his hand, thumbing over his shoulder and rolling his eyes at this other guy wearing some kind of Foxy Brown get-up, complete with gold lame skirt. He seemed completely self-possessed and not at all embarrassed about his frilly shirt or velvet knickers.

We got to talking and soon bonded over our shared Dave Grohl, Foo Fightin' love and busted into "Gimme' Stitches" together. "Sink with someone tied to me-- I'm makin' you volunteer..."

Yeah, and then she woke up and went running.

Go ahead and play "Gimme' Stitches" in the player -- if you're not a rock scaredy-cat . You're not, are you? (balk-balk-balk-buc-aw!) (That's right, I'm not above openly mocking you into listening.) I defy you to get through the opening riff without making guitar face and shaking something.

Today I'm taking the day off, but unlike Sunday am not vegging all the way out. I'm actually dressed and on the way to hang with buddy Beth. We're going to scope out a used drum set. (No-- I didn't technically make enough to justify this at the last show, but I may pull the "Oh you shouldn't have!-- Thanks for the awesome drum set for Christmas!" on Dan.) We're also going to check out cool shops in this little college town nearby and have lunch and search for disturbia. I'm so psyched. I haven't completely screwed off in a long time.

I encourage this behavior and have threatened in the past to start a hedonism boot camp for women. Let me know if you want to sign up.

Last Minute Edit:
Mrph! Just as I was about to hit "publish" Beth called and can't make it because all their power etc is out. I will not be deterred from my massive day of screwing off however. I think I'll go up to the music store and look at their used stuff, and maybe catch a matinee, or try to corrupt another buddy into playing hooky. My powers of persuasion are vast and irresistible after all.