Schnerkit

Bryon is *forcing* me to listen to Justin Timberlake. And now he's singing along. Futher proving that he does in fact, in oh so many ways, resmble "that guy from N'Sync."  heh heh. Rock your body, yo.

In other news, it snowed today. Sideways. Up my nose. My green umbrella was powerless to stop it.

"AIIEEEE! I JUST WANNA LOVE YA BABE, yeah yeah, OOoooOOOO...."

sorry. justin is creeping me out.

So I was walking home in the aforementioned blizzard, and at some point I dropped my glove. I think the pair of them cost me a dollar, and they're the leetle stretchy kind. They are purple. Of course. Anyway, I was about two blocks up green street, and around the bend in front of B-licious's pad, when this jeep pulls up and honks at me.

I like jeeps, but i do not like random guys in jeeps amidst snowy tempests, honking at me. Apparently,  he had spotted my wayward glove, stopped on green street to pick it up, and since green street is one way, must have turned around and come back up the block looking for me and my signature green umbrella. And actually was polite when he returned it to me, not creepy, and did not attempt to use chivalry as an excuse to get my phone number.

But at first I thought:  Who the hell does that? Who stops to pick up a glove?? And stalks someone up the street?? And honks at them?? Unless there is some sinister ulterior motive?? Some psycho rapist snow whacko in a jeep, that's who! Who is trying to maim and murder me!

Can you tell I get followed around alot by skeezy dudes? What a jaded biznatch I am. sheesh.

I politely thanked my newfound hero, shook the snow off my green umbrella, and tucked my glove back in my bag. Hm. That was...nice.

Shut up, justin. My ears are bleeding. Gawd.

Ok, I happen to think cats are smelly, but this one is kinda cute.

Stick Shifter

Thassright, he has done the impossible! Many men have tried, and miserably failed. After much needling and wheedling and irrefutable matter-of-fact-hurling,  Bryon convinced me to go out for a driving lesson Sunday afternoon.  Me and the Taupemobile were cruising the ToysR Us parking lot while I mastered the art of cranking it into first gear, and apparently I am a natural stick-shifter. All the more reason to buy a Jeep, I say.  

Last night was not so fun. I was doing okay in the parking lot, and then I got stuck, probably because I was tired and frustrated and anxious, and I had myself a leetle hissy over it. But the thing is, and the hedgehog is right, we cannot go road tripping if I cannot drive the Taupemobile. This stupid little thing  is stressing me out. And there is so much to do before we can leave.......things to pack, stuff to get rid of, learning to drive, figuring out where we want to live, money to save, and saying goodbye to everything i know here.....some days it seems like we'll just end up.......stuck.......here....for another dreadful winter.

But, on the good side, I got the whole first gear-clutch-second gear thing down pat.  Vroom!

Movement

It's official. I just signed up for a dance class.

All those years I spent putting on my groove when nobody was looking, that secret longing to be an uber ballerina, circling the want ads in the paper for nightclub go-go girl jobs, buying tickets to see Alvin Ailey, the jealous twinges when I walk near the Boston Ballet, all that leaping and bounding around my livingroom until I nearly keel over with adrenalin and joy, it's gonna be real. Granted, it's just a night class at some high school, but for the first time I'm about to acknowledge all those times I was ever told that I sure can shake it, or that I have a dancer's build, or that I have the capability to be graceful. Haha, me? Graceful? Nah. Because I have knobby knees, and no experience, and I am, simply stated, doomed to be a big klutz. And now I'm really nervous.

But I'm gonna do it anyway.

My New Favorite TV Show

I will destroy you with my bunny ears!!

On spike TV, there's this show called "MXC", aka MOST EXTREME ELIMINATION CHALLENGE. Originally this crazy Japanese game show known as Takeshi's Castle, in which overzealously cheerful asian peeps fling themselves headfirst into impossible obstacles and an inevitable faceful of mud, it has been converted into pure american entertainment. There's nothing like watching a little asian chick in pink spandex get her ass dunked by a giant yellow samurai, or one of her teammates biting it facefirst into a humongous log and taking a bath in a pool of muck. Freaking hilarious.

My name's Petunia, I like your obi.

Giant logs of  DOOOM!!

I need a caption for this, but it somehow escapes me.

Here's the (fictional) injuries stats from the original show, further proving that agony is comedy:

Stuff I Have Made In The Art Room 

Exhibit A,  a clothespin fairy:

Note the feathery convict-orange wings, the fuschia muppet-fur tutu, and the enviable manic-panic lavender fluffy hairdo.

Oddly enough, this is strangely similar to the look I was going for when I was in art skool.

Exhibit B, a sumi ink monkey in a kimono:

the kanji say "Japan" and "Monkey." But my skills blow, so it could just as easily say "Phlegm" and "Your Mother is a Pomegranate."

Exhibit C: shameless plug for this year's art show:

The kiddoes started making stuff today.  And for the next two months, I'm going to be cracking the whip and doling out the paper mache and poster paint.  It's gonna be gorgeous. Or else!