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July 31, 2007
Peak Condition
Looking for me tomorrow? I'll be here, gaping and gasping as the sherpas run laps around my huddled corpus. What? It's only like, gulp, 8,500 feet higher than I am right now...
Posted by Bree at 07:39 PM | Comments (0)
Leaving and Staying: Doggy-Style
I almost left last night. At around 2 in the morning, when I woke up for the first time. I almost got in my car and drove away, and if it hadn't been for The Deuce, I probably would've. Not permanently, of course. But at least for a day or two. At least far enough down the road to be really alone.
Strange to realize what keeps you grounded. Though it's good to have a reason to come home, it's better to have a reason not to leave. And now I do.
Eh. Maybe not so much anymore.
(Go here for the super-awesome genesis of that super-awesome tattoo.)
CLARIFICATION: THAT IS NOT MY TATTOO, MOM.
Posted by Bree at 02:23 PM | Comments (0)
From the Infamous Kitchen Hot Dog Painting Painter
Posted by Bree at 09:33 AM | Comments (0)
Turning Point
I've decided to have a turning point when I reach the top of whichever 14,000-foot mountain we hike in the morning. Can you decide these things beforehand? If so, I'd totally welcome an epiphany. The type that is life-altering. Because I'd like something new to happen; something different to go down.
Last night, I tried.
But it just wasn't me.
So tomorrow, I guess I'll try something different.
Posted by Bree at 08:26 AM | Comments (0)
Bad Day for Directors
Wait...Ingmar Bergman AND Michelangelo Antonioni both died on the same day? They were both still alive? I thought those guys went under around the time Halston sewed his last dress. <-- Obligatory Tuesday morning shout-out to Halston.
Clearly.
Posted by Bree at 08:07 AM | Comments (0)
July 30, 2007
Van Gogh I'm No
But who says I don't suffer for my art?
GNARLS. I just noticed my apparent spontaneous stigmata. Sure I'm clumsy. Sure I don't "feel pain." Sure I'm in the process of ripping out carpet with my bare hands. But still. Weird. And, between you and me, this isn't the first time this has happened...
Posted by Bree at 11:15 AM | Comments (0)
Time to Hang Up the Leather Shorts, My Girl
Oh Britney.
Posted by Bree at 10:24 AM | Comments (0)
Cancelled!
I just cancelled my land line. This is big. I'm feeling very modren man. Next step: tossing the Epilady®.
Modren man, indeed.
I have a very nice cordless phone, if anyone in D-town wants it. I got the land line, initially, to make sure I had another means of communication if the events in Red Dawn came to fruition and cell service went down. Then I realized that by buying a nice cordless phone - dependent on power supply - I was fizzarked anyway. So, too bad. I guess I'll be back in the hurricane fence gulag with Harry Dean Stanton and the rest of the losers.
Anys! Let me know if you want the phone. It's sleek, it's sharp, it's hot, it's now and it's been used...mmm...once. If you're in desperate need, I'll even mail it to you. Lord knows I hate the waste. And the commies. WOOOOOLVERRRRINES!
Posted by Bree at 10:13 AM | Comments (0)
If You Really Loved Me, You'd Buy Me the Things That Make Me Happy
MUST! HAVE! From OathNYC at Catbird.
Posted by Bree at 08:33 AM | Comments (0)
Spidey!
Speaking of spider pig, look what I just found over on Cool Hunting: a primer, if you shall, of how the apparent master of spiderweb capturing goes about his business. I have one of these plates, (bought from the lovely Leigh of Jezebel Stationary at Catbird when I was in town for the gift show last year), and both my guests and I have often tried to figure out how in the hizzell it was made. Behold!
(Ang, now that we've mastered Fimo brick - what say you and I go down to my basement and get this business POPPING?)
Posted by Bree at 08:01 AM | Comments (0)
July 29, 2007
Five Word Movie Review Sunday
Spider Pig stole the show.
Posted by Bree at 11:07 PM | Comments (0)
Congratulations to Mike and Kristi Macs!!
Boy went and done got married at City Hall this past week! Granted, the full church press will be in a few months now, but he and Kristi decided to make things official before she moved out to their new place in Park Slope. Good stuff. And, as a special bonus, his wedding ring is that thing you see above. That's right. With the waves on it? That he bought at a mall on Long Island? Oh Smuckers. You slay me. Like Mandrake the Bundt Cake...you slay me.
Congratulations, Son (and Daughter) of the Hounds of the Sea!!
(NB: Mike promised a full write-up of the experience for SweetNBheads, so look for that this week. Given the people involved, I assume nothing short of full chaos was experienced.)
Posted by Bree at 05:36 PM | Comments (0)
The Godfather of Grunge Ponders Sex Jelly
I watched the Jonathan Demme concert documentary on Neil Young last night (bonus five word review: Oh Man! What a treat.) and was again reminded how even though I looooove the Neil and looooove that he keeps innovating and pushing and writing and won't rest on the huge laurelstack (?) he's amassed, still...sometimes his lyrics are sooooo clunky. Man Needs a Maid? Sugar Mountain? BLECH, BARF, ETC.
Thus my non-surprise that he managed to chuck the line, "I'll always remember something Chris Rock said," into a song on the song No Wonder from Prairie Wind. The full stanza is:.
Amber waves of grain bow in the prairie wind
I’m hearing Willie singing on the radio again
That song from 9/11 keeps ringing in my head
I’ll always remember something Chris Rock said
So. I was thinking about it, and wondering if I could sleuth the reference out - and behold! Success! It came to me in the middle of the night. Of course! He's remembering the same thing I'll ALWAYS REMEMBER that Chris Rock said: Ladies should never bust out an old, crusty, half-used tube of K-Y with a new boyfriend. They should BUY A NEW TUBE. (I'm paraphrasing.)
Hmmmmm! Clearly Neil is a considerate lover - and expects the same consideration in return. I understand, sure. But seriously, guys. Do you think we're made of MONEY here? Shit gets expensive. Plus that's some needless waste right there. Thought you were all "Earth First! Buy a Prius! Wheee! Al Gore!" and stuff. What gives?
These mixed messages confuse me.
Maybe we should spend some time apart.
But before you go...how are you with electrical rewiring? I've got these fixtures, see...
Talk about "that song from 9/11"...eerie.
Neil Young concert at Jones Beach, 2000.
Greg, our friend who died in the World Trade Center the following year, is the redhead with his arm up. He loved the Neil to the point it was mentioned in his NY Times write-up. His sister, Jeanne, who's quoted in the piece, is the dark-haired girl standing next to him.
Posted by Bree at 10:10 AM | Comments (0)
July 28, 2007
Lightening Crashes
Due to events beyond our control (aka crazy dangerous weather systems rolling through), the hike up Mount Bierstadt has been postponed until Wednesday. This delay has meant two things:
(1) After several heeeelarious hours last night, Angela and I (with an able assist from the 6 string cheeses, 2 peaches and 1 bag of beef jerky we munched through) completed the Fimo brick project with great aplomb and only slight bloat.
Angela with the pasta maker that is now irrevocably "dedicated to craft"
(Look for the faux instructables post coming soon.)
(2) I scored two half-priced tickets (went on sale at 1 p.m. on Ticketmaster, NB) to the Broncos v. Jags game on September 23 for me and my number one girl, K. Elaine.
"Never Stand Uphill From Mom"
Chick's such a football freak, it's absurd and she's NEVER been to a game. Ever. Never ever. They almost named my brother BART STARR (seriously) and she's never been to a game. Get on a plane, K.E.! We've got some Coors to drink and some ball to cheer. And we can totally wear our matching outfits from above. Even the goggles.
Posted by Bree at 02:42 PM | Comments (0)
Straphanger Serenade
Ah, the Metro. How I miss our special times together.
(Manhattan Borough President) Scott Stringer's office asked commuters how often someone sexually attacked or harassed them in the subway, and found frightening results. More than 60 percent of those who responded to the online study said they were sexually harassed and 10 percent said they'd been sexually assaulted. - [Newsday]
Sexual harassment, sure. Seen my share, but probably less than the average chick given my (patent pending denied) "Don't fuck with me you motherfucker; I am stronger than you, I am faster than you and I will eat you fucking alive" subway-riding death glare. And people wonder why I'm single.
Sexual assault? A bit trickier to say. Is it assault that I spent a small part of a weekday morning on a fairly deserted 2 train watching a totally vile man directly across the aisle beat off while he stared at me? I don't know if that is. I remember being only a little scared, but mainly just disgusted that he was using me; that somehow I was a part of his experience. Especially since I was *wearing a skirt suit* at the time. Oh dear GOD, where does it END?!
Granted, I was young at the time. I think that was my first summer in NY (hence the suit, I was on my way to an INTERWHOOOO!), which is the only reason I didn't move or get off the train or stand up and get someone to help me. I just sat there nervously until we got to Penn Station, the doors opened and I bolted. Honestly though, if that was the most offensive thing to happen to me on the trains, I'm one of the lucky ones. The fact there isn't cell phone service down there is a FUCKING NIGHTMARE that needs to be rectified. If I was still living in New York, that would be one issue I might ACTUALLY lobby the legislators about.
It is absolutely terrifying to be without a lifeline, floating in the nothing, anxiously waiting to make it back to the light. And that's coming from someone with the resources and strength to look after herself. I can't imagine what it must be like for the truly vulnerable: the sick, the tired, the old, the alone.
Posted by Bree at 12:30 AM | Comments (0)
July 27, 2007
On Public Diaries
This is a bit from one of my all-time favorite books, Everyday Matters by Danny Gregory. Through simple line drawings and watercolors and small bits of prose, he chronicles his family's daily life in Manhattan after his wife - and the mother of his ten-month old son - is hit and paralyzed by the #9 train. I've given it to many friends going through tough times, and will give it to another one tonight.
As I was thumbing through it this afternoon, this bit caught my eye. It's interesting as I've been thinking a lot recently about why I keep this blog, what I should or shouldn't be writing on it, whether I should close it to the public, who's reading it, what they think of me, what writing it means, whether the entire act is merely an exercise in self-involvement - and, if so, if I should instead devote my creative time towards something more beneficial to the greater good.
Like Eazy-E powerpoint slides. Or, really, anything made out of fimo.
Clearly, I have a lot to give.
Without a drop more of ado, let's turn to the point of this whole post. Mr. Gregory, take it away. Please.
"Writing this boring crap and drawing ineptly have become fun and something I feel an actual need to do. So if I haven't written page after page of crackling, witty insight and my drawings look like they were done by a monkey using a stick up his anus, sue me. Maybe one day, I'll do better. Maybe not. In the meantime, I like this, it makes me better to myself, makes me reconsider a lot of things in my life, makes me take some risks and open some doors. This new path is too short for the view to be different than where I was except in my fantasies, so rather than dash them, I shall continue down it, and the landscape will change."
Posted by Bree at 04:04 PM | Comments (0)
The Projects
If I had unlimited druthers, I would be more crafty. And not just in the Beastie Boys sense. I would love to be able to take all the design stuff I envision in my head and have it somehow materialize before me after a peaceful few hours working in my studio, Belle & Sebastian on the transistor radio, the waves gently lapping on the dock, a furry cat that never sheds purring on the table (NOT this one), my husband David Beckham practicing his soccer "kicks" on the front lawn, our money triplicating in the market as I studiously and artfully create masterpiece after masterpiece. Oh yes and I'd be wearing jeans of the perfectly worn and totally exact right length variety. And really cute jewelry. And my hair would be AWESOME.
OK. Wait. Anys. This is not how it goes in the life of Bree.
Except for the clothes and jewelry and hair parts. That I can do. The rest - not so much. But, as I've said before, I forever endeavor. So this weekend? This is the proyecto:
Turn THIS -
Into THIS - 
The groundwork has been laid. The materials have been collected. The motivation has been mustered. So. In addition to CLIMBING A 14,000-foot peak tomorrow MORNING, I am going to make a clay brick candle holder. Because I am all with it like that. And apparently, I like a challenge. Especially if it involves fimo.
Posted by Bree at 11:05 AM | Comments (0)
July 26, 2007
Jay-Z.xls
"You're crazy for this one, Rick!"
Posted by Bree at 02:57 PM | Comments (0)
Important Memo to Marie
IT WAS GROVER.
Posted by Bree at 01:49 PM | Comments (0)
Round-Up
Things I Don't Like That Everyone Else Likes:
1. Falafel
2. Jonathan Adler
3. Border collies
4. Frisbee
5. Good times, laughter, bonhomie
Things I Am Wholly Ambivalent About That Everyone Else Likes:
1. Baseball
2. Harry Potter
3. Ireland
4. Sausage
5. Returning phone calls
Things I Like That Few Others Like:
1. Broccoli and pineapple pizza
2. Wearing bras to bed
3. The full Cleveland
4. Eating straight from cans
5. Being on airplanes
Posted by Bree at 01:44 PM | Comments (0)
Memo to Nordstroms.com Booking Agent Re: Model Choice
I know these outfits aren't doing anyone any favors but, come on now. This is like dressing the Chupacabra up in velveteen remnants from the Gunne Sax factory and trying to pass it off as a new look for prom. <-- She shoots! She scores! Crowd riots. Chaos ensues. Economy collapses.
Posted by Bree at 01:15 PM | Comments (0)
Jay-Z.ppt
Posted by Bree at 01:02 PM | Comments (0)
July 23, 2007
Holy Moles!
I was just cruising around on the fabs - and aptly named - design site More Ways to Waste Time, and stumbled across her write-up on this piece:
An apparently "circa-1978 Finnish fabric wall hanging by Vallila" that totally hung in our yellow and orange playroom throughout my childhood! What a crazy blast from the past! I haven't seen - or thought of - this thing since about 1985. And frankly, seeing it now just brings back some horrific olfactory memories of the stankass dog that used to sleep under it. RIP Boo.
On a more positive note - Mom and Dad - youse so hip it's skeery!
Posted by Bree at 09:49 PM | Comments (0)
Moment to Brag
My ****AWESOME**** nephew made this!!!!!!
(Watch for a cameo from Max, the super-beast.)
Posted by Bree at 01:14 PM | Comments (0)
Does This Kind of Stuff Happen to Other People?
While getting undressed to jump in the shower, I somehow managed to throw the one nice sports bra I own into the toilet.
What? It was an accident.
Duh.
Posted by Bree at 09:07 AM | Comments (0)
Thoughts on Possibly Climbing a 14-er This Weekend
"I find life itself provides ample and sufficient tests of my valor and mettle: illness; betrayal; fruitless searches for love; working for the abusive, the insane and the despotic. All challenges easily as thrilling to me as scrambling over icy rock in a pair of barely adequate boots." - David Rakoff
An interesting perspective - and one which I might have aligned myself with a lot more readily in the past.
Besides, if I get up at 4 in the morning to hike up to 14,000 feet, I can definitely have like 60 margaritas back in the Mile High later in the day. That's what the kids call "motivation." And the counselors call "alcohol dependency." Ba da DUMPED!
Posted by Bree at 08:03 AM | Comments (0)
July 22, 2007
Wondering if It Was Jungle Wing..?
Whooo! The serendipitous stripes of a couple of black and gold tigers get a major shout-out in the Times Vows section. And strangely? It's not the bride and groom.
Posted by Bree at 06:23 PM | Comments (0)
Inbox
From: Mikey Macs
To: briggles, defender13
Date: Jul 19, 2007 12:30 PM
Subject: Yesterday
What you are both missing in NYC.
Sitting in my office when all of a sudden the building started shaking like the world was ending. There was an incredible Bang! and several more bangs, and then a rushing sound like you would hear if you had your ear pressed against an industrial air conditioner turned on high. It filled your head, you couldn't hear. We ran to the windows and looked down at the street for some kind of explanation, but all you could see was smoke and Third Avenue and streams of people running south. Traffic had stopped and everyone was leaving their vehicles and running. Away from our building. You could see people in the other office buildings and they were pressed up against the windows and some were running.
My cell network was busy, so I called Kristi from the land line. She could hear the sirens over the phone, but there was nothing out of the ordinary in her office, which was on 53rd street, so I felt better, it wasn't near her. I told her to get out of the building and to meet at our emergency spot.
We headed to the stairway but it was packed solid with people. Twenty four floors to go. People were orderly and text messages worked and it became apparent that it was not Grand Central and instead came out of the street. A lot of the younger women were crying. It was very quiet, just the shaking of the building and the sound of feet going down stairs. The catching of rubber soles on the painted concrete. I saw one of my friends who was in an office right above and he said it cracked the windows and there was a geyser of dirt, steam and smoke going up at least forty stories into the air. Getting down took about fifteen minutes.
When we got into the lobby everyone split up. Several people were discussing going to look around the corner and seeing what it was. I took one of my co-workers who lives in Brooklyn and headed straight east to the river. Figured we could swim if necessary. It would be faster than walking. The streets were thick with people. There is a construction site next to the FDR. I was thinking very clearly about what kind of wood would float the best. Not pressure treated. I was thinking about taking the inflatable tires off of the wheel barrows and where I would find a wrench.
Kristi met us outside the UN and we walked down First avenue. There were hundreds of floating islands of people, milling about, some walking with purpose, some in a daze. Traffic still moved at a rush hour pace, the M15 bus was picking people up, there was not a real sense of panic, just more of a kinetic confusion, people shocked awake by their regular schedules being upturned. The farther away we got, for a while, the more normal things became. Then it was a little weird. In the East Village there were no cars on the streets. Everyone was walking. We heard the subways were running, so we grabbed the Brooklyn-bound F at Houston. We got off at Prospect Park West and walked my co-worker across the park to the Q line. It was a different city. People were just going about their business. It was as if nothing had happened.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SImhkapRuIs&NR=1
My building is the black on on the left.
Look forward to seeing you both soon.
Posted by Bree at 10:56 AM | Comments (0)
July 21, 2007
Bounty: The Dog Hunter
I think someone must've replaced my "go to eau de" with animal scent as of late. Wherever I may roam, the beasts done follow like I'm captaining the arc out to Alpoland. Case in punto: The Deuce and I stumbled across a skittish little border collie on our walk tonight - a skittish little border collie that soon saw me tackling it on to the neighbor's lawn (while still holding onto Deuker's leash and my cell phone). KBN wrestling two squirmy dawgs across the street, up the steps and into the house = a sight to behold for all and sundry, surely. I think by the time we were inside, there were some kids selling lemonade and a news chopper circling the scene.
All?
Sundry.
So yes - though the little dude had a rabies tag and collar, and was very friendly and housebroken, it seemed reluctant to divulge any secrets from the past. Even after a Mai Tai and half a joint. I understood. Sometimes the past can be painful to revisit, even in passing. We held each other and wept. After the tears had dried, and after a flurry of phone calls (two) between me and city officials (useless; Vote Perot!), I next got to spend my Saturday evening exploring the onus of driving the totally spastic panter (that's "panter" - not "panther") to the DESERTED Dumb Friends League (basically in New Mexico) and lifting it by me lonesome into a lock box (?) that was at shoulder height.
I believe a WTF is in order for that. (And I don't mean World Trade Federation, though I see how you'd get confused.) Thanks be I didn't find a St. Bernard. Or a hippo. Or, come to think of it, a panther.
Posted by Bree at 09:36 PM | Comments (0)
Happy Happy Birthday to the Leader of the Pack!
Excellence, indeed.
The biggest love and kisses and birthday wishes to you, my absolute favorite lady on this planet - and beyond. Like on Venus, Pluto and...you know...Uranus. (Mars too.)
I love you to bitty bits, Mom!!! But that shouldn't come as much of a surprise. After all, you're about as lovable as cusses get.
XOOXOXXO to the 8th bazillion power! <-- Totally.
Posted by Bree at 03:37 PM | Comments (0)
July 20, 2007
A-Haps: July 2007
Eating: Peanut toffee zone bars, pickled garlic, sugar-free Red Bull (not together)
Reading: Fraud by David Rakoff (on loan from RJM), this piece on my deadened buds, reviews on Yelp
Listening: Spoon, Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga
Buying: Writing desk from West Elm, bathroom fixtures and lights, curtains, new collar for The Deuce's porky neck, Urban Decay Eyeshadow Transforming Potion
Wanting: Husband (for the health insurance), gardening staff, cure for adult acne
Killing: my abs, one 6:30 a.m. Pilates class at a time
Excited About: Hitting up the lake in Nebraska next weekend, chowing down at Potager this week, having my LAST dog training session, admiring my absurdly wonderful walls, seeing hometown heroes/advertising and art gurus (and my first bosses!) Zane and Leith in town this week!!
Trying: To drink and eat less; to minimize procrastination; to cut myself off from the constant self-imposed pressure of accomplishing! stuff! at a reasonable, as yet to be determined time every evening; to make the Deuce feel extra super-dupes secure in this house and in our relationship. To write more interesting blog entries MY GOD.
Posted by Bree at 03:33 PM | Comments (0)
V is for Vomitorium
Wow. I was just innocently scanning this article about a woman getting chemical burns from Wal-Mart flip flops, shaking my head in (relative) dismay at the crap customer service the big retailers are rolling out these days*, idly wondering if there's a Chinese Minister of Thongs who will be put to death over this event and THEN...THEN I scrolled down and saw the pictures of her feet.
I invite you to do the same. Seriously. Click on that link up there and then scrooooolllll. You'll thank me never. But it's a must.
*Case in point: Some yoyo at Best Buy wouldn't show Rick a $300 digital camera the other day because he "couldn't take it out of the box." Fucking absurd. Ever since guys at that SAME STORE wouldn't give me any real information about laptops until the DUDE I WAS WITH walked up to join the conversation, I've been on a general boycott. Every electronic purchase I make these days is online so I don't have to deal with this crap. Better prices, better information, better selection, better everything. Harrumph.
Posted by Bree at 11:11 AM | Comments (0)
Weekend Plans
My weekend plans are simple: chillin' out, maxin', relaxin' all cool as is the Norman with one key diff: I'll be doing it by meself. I mean sure, I'm hitting up the Ballpark Market and Snooze with Marie on Saturday and have a few other randers social encounters slotted in there, but the jist is: I need some time to chill it out. I need some time to sit around, listen to my tunes, watch my Netflix, read my mags, write my nonsense and eat my Lean Cuisines. It's been way too long. But I'm thinking a stringent diet of me-time should get me back to fighting form by Monday.
Tuesday at the latest.
Posted by Bree at 09:31 AM | Comments (0)
July 19, 2007
Dating Dialogue
Bree: Soooooo, I've got my first date with that guy from the CO-DESIGN show tonight...
Pifuka: (heavily accented English) Wear a condom. Don't get an STD.
[pause]
It's not worth it.
[Long pause]
Bree: OK. I'll wear a condom.
[Exeunt]
Posted by Bree at 05:27 PM | Comments (0)
FYI
Sometimes, after a really bloaty lunch, I like to put on outfits that make me look both pregnant and butch. It's how "I do."
[Musical cue: Hot in the City by Billy Idol]
Posted by Bree at 01:44 PM | Comments (0)
New Game: Find the Eastern European Hitman
Posted by Bree at 10:41 AM | Comments (0)
Worst. Nightmare. Realized.
I repeat: Worst. Nightmare. Realized.
And I'm not talking about being named Midge. Though I see why you'd be confused.
(link c/o foxy Froxy)
Posted by Bree at 10:20 AM | Comments (0)
July 18, 2007
Pictures of New Paint Job!
All snaps care of Rick and his new digi-cam. One things for certain, when this kid leaves for MIT, I think life's gonna be a whole lot MT-er.
(Ahem. Awesome.)
Coffee table with living room wall in the background
Dining room into living room; me on phone with Zane
Close up on dining room wall; picture of me and Marie, 1997
Posted by Bree at 08:42 PM | Comments (0)
July 17, 2007
Three Words
(If I had more than three, I would write about how totally jazzed I am about this idea...and how confused I am that anyone would write up a recipe for it. I would also tell you how much I love my C.O. Bigelow Ultra Menta Lip Shine. And Deuce's new SENSE-ible dog harness. And then I might talk some more about those pretzels from Whole Foods. Seriously. They're soft, salty and very 7th grade lunchroom at Mt. Greylock. Pass the moutard.)
Posted by Bree at 10:24 PM | Comments (0)
Important Business Questions
I'm working on a big huge ole marketing proposal to present tomorrow (very! exciting!) and am wondering...is ONUS an inappropriate word to use? The context wouldn't be corporeal, of course. More like, "The onus is extreme."
I'm talking extreme.
Extreme onus.
Will this just make me laugh midway through? Does someone who laughs at the word onus even deserve a job? But what is it's a gigundie onus? [Insert ponder.]
Posted by Bree at 11:23 AM | Comments (0)
Something I Really Like
Soft baked pretzels from Whole Foods. I stole part of one from Sully in Seattle, and have been thinking about them ever since. "Huh! Yeah...I don't know why he's crying...he just started up out of the blue when I came in the room. Random. Hey...did you get any more of those?"
Too young to rat me out...
Posted by Bree at 08:00 AM | Comments (0)
July 16, 2007
Miss Me Much?
Cue up the Janet Jackson, 'cause I'm back. And I brought LaToya with me.
These past few days have been absolutely nutz. To quickly recap, I got my house painted (and OMG, it looks amazing. I am as thrilled as my brother, Jacko.) so was bumming around with my dog at different friends' houses for the past several nights. It was very "OK, Patches, let's me and you hit the rails," only with an A4 and a lot of Icky Thump and Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga. And Vicodin. Duh.
Honestly with a hard "H," the painting project really couldn't have come at a more inconvenient time. In essence, my house and my work were both in total and absurd constructo chaos - not. awesome. It got so kooks, I started taking refuge at the GYM...*madness*. To add insanity, the CO-DESIGN show opened at P Design on Saturday at 3. And the space was under construction up until about...oh 11 a.m. that morning. Take a moment to process that.
We were sweeping, mopping, shop-vaccing, power-washing, organizing, painting, lifting heavy crazy expensive furniture, eating hot dogs and breaking bottles of wine on the floor by 8 a.m. on the day of the show...WHILE the plasterers finished sanding and plastering the new walls. I finally left at 1:15 to quickly shower off the GNARLS before turning around and running back.
It was nuuuuuuts, but Team Kickass got it done and all was a great success, etc. Granted, I was so tired by the time the show actually rolled around, I spent a great part of it sitting and sipping Red Bull but, ahem, STILL managed to get my flirt on enough to get asked out by a comely stranger. I think it was the white jeans. Or the 3-inch heels. Or the giant circles under my eyes. Something...something irresistible! Clearly.
Rick and I toasted the success of the show - and the success of his last day at work - and the success of me still being awake - with filet mignones, Ridge '04 and martinis (me) and scotch/sodas (he) at the Palm that night. Two words: we's hammered. Case in point: we both stood on our seats. At separate intervals. BUT - that sort of ludicrous behavior didn't stop the sommelier from totally recognizing and remembering me as his former pupil at Cook Street. Ah, the connex never really fail when it comes to me and boozing.
Never.
Fail.
After a brief sojourn to the Skylark, we checked out the Clyfford Still opening at DAM (very small, but worthwhile) and then kept rolling til 2 a.m., talking trash and pumping up the jams...and the pajamas. It was a great day and a super great night - a lovely and intense experience that was much needed as recently my days have been - for lack of a better and/or less hyperbolic phrase - vast vortices of suck. Nothing too too major, but just death by 1,000 cuts type stuff.
But. The news is: things are totally on the upswing. I have some really exciting work stuff going on this week; my house looks amazing and - more importantly - I'm back in it, sitting in my chair, listening to Deuce snore happily. My laptop was returned to me this morning (albeit with a totally scraped hard drive) and my air conditioning is totally fixed. So I'm good. I'm very, very tired but I am very, very good. I even took my FIRST RIDE EVER on a motorcycle last night. Cruising down Colfax in the warm night air, feeling safe and free, laughing and smiling and squeezing Matt...something to remember, something else to be thankful for.
Posted by Bree at 07:30 PM | Comments (0)
July 15, 2007
True Dat
Posted by Bree at 07:52 PM | Comments (0)
July 13, 2007
Perhaps Not So Unique
I am having an eerie experience in reading The Namesake by Jhumpa Lahiri. There is a character in it who reminds me of myself, in both flattering and not-so flattering ways. This did not strike me when I watched the movie, but the details of her, her relationships with her family and boyfriends, her interests and way of expressing herself and background...it's all, if not directly parallel, at least a faithful and realistic interpretation of how things could have gone had my parents stayed in the city. This paragraph in particular made me furrow at the similarity:
Maxine is open about her past, showing him photographs of her ex-boyfriends in the pages of a marble-papered album, speaking of those relationships without embarrassment or regret. She has the gift of accepting her life; as he comes to know her, he realizes that she has never wished she were anyone other than herself. This, in his opinion, is the biggest difference between them, a thing far more foreign to him than the beautiful house she'd grown up in, her education at private schools. In addition, he is continually amazed by how much Maxine emulates her parents, how much she respects their tastes and their ways. At the dinner table she argues with them about books and paintings and people they know in common the way one might argue with a friend. There is none of the exasperation he feels with his own parents. No sense of obligation. Unlike his parents, they pressure her to do nothing, and yet she lives faithfully, happily, at their side.
She swears a lot too. And likes bread and coffee. The first time she is described, it is as, "at once strident and flirtatious, she is a little bit drunk." Case rested.
Posted by Bree at 07:33 AM | Comments (0)
July 12, 2007
Finger Lickin' Gross
I just got my finger jammed in between my window frame and one of those square wooden things on the inside of the window (what? I don't know. leave me alone.) and got it stuck there for a few grisly seconds before I could wrench it out. Thankfully, I'm so highly evolved that my fingernails are like the size of mitochondria but apparently the nerve endings are still functioning like the rest of you cro mags. OWWWWWWWW.
Wah.
Mom.
Etc.
Sigh. The ONLY thing that could take my mind off all this fingertip misery is this chilling ad that Vito Spatafore Jr.'s agents apparently took out in Variety:
That kid'll never crap in this town again. The Defamer write-up is here. Go with God.
Posted by Bree at 05:14 PM | Comments (0)
Englands
Seriously?
Seriously.
Tue, Oct 9, 2007 Denver, CO to London, United Kingdom
British Airways 218
Departs 8:15 p.m , Arrives 12:10 p.m.
Wed, Oct 17, 2007 London, United Kingdom to Denver, CO
British Airways 219
Departs 3:45 p.m., Arrives 6:25 p.m.
Posted by Bree at 01:20 PM | Comments (0)
July 11, 2007
Misheard Lyrics - Yellow Ledbetter by Pearl Jam
Pretty awesome. Make me fries.
(curtsy Elliooootttt)
Posted by Bree at 08:34 PM | Comments (0)
Sensitive Subject
I was looking through my e-mails today for a work phone number in New York, and stumbled across this lovely missive saved from when I was writing for Tr*jan's launch of its Mint Tingle condom. Yes, this is an actual, undoctored e-mail I sent to my boss, the VP of my department:
--------------------------------------------------
From: Bree
Sent: Friday, February 25, 2005 9:36 AM
To: Joe
Subject: Tr*jan Release
You know, I was thinking about it and what Christine wrote yesterday re: not wanting to position it as the blow job condom, and was wondering if I went too far in that regard?
All the info they gave us (the CDC stuff, the deck, etc.) focused on oral sex, so that's how I wrote it—but now I'm not sure if I didn't concentrate enough on the rest of the Mint Tingle…possibilities. But, to be realistic, it totally IS the blow job condom. I mean…there is NO other reason why it would be flavored/colored… Anyway, perhaps something to consider as we go into round 2.
Good morning, Joe!
Thanks,
Bree
Posted by Bree at 06:50 PM | Comments (0)
Big News From the Construction Zone
I am sitting in P Design watching contractors frame walls in this radically deconstructed space. A radically deconstructed space that is going to host the CO-DESIGN show in...oh...71 1/2 hours. They just gave me earplugs because they are about to shoot nails into the concrete with the force - and noise - of a shot from a 22-caliber. This is really not how I was envisioning spending my summer, but alas.
Flexibility.
It's not just a hit in the sack.
Hard to imagine something more invigorating than this situation, but try this on for size: I answered the phone here a few hours ago and at the other end was my old pal from CC, Chia. Now, a few weeks ago, I had run across a postcard Chia had sent Paul and Pifuka and sleuthily deduced that there is but one Chia in the whole wide world -- and that we MUST have the same friend. Paul confirmed that they had lived next to this Chia in Brooklyn and loved him and so forth. We then laughed and hugged and danced and cried and sang, "It's a Small World." I would've blogged about it, but felt it was far too sacred and personal for the likes of you.
But then, then! - the phone rang today with the news that Chia and his GF and their two kitties (Ramona and Meatball) are packing up and MOVING TO DENVER. In two months. It was the first time I've talked to him since the late 90's, and I'm so psyched to be back in touch with that kid - and to get some more creative, cool and fun NYC blood raging in this joint. My fast-forming clique is so swankadanks it's fucking Shabba Ranks. And you can put THAT on my epitaph.
Seriously.
You can. ¡Con permiso y queso!
Posted by Bree at 03:09 PM | Comments (0)
Rhetorichard
Why does THIS remind me of THIS?
Hahahahah!
SNAP!
Posted by Bree at 10:30 AM | Comments (0)
July 10, 2007
Dad, This One's for You
(just 'cause I know you'll love it.)
(this one too)
Posted by Bree at 11:56 PM | Comments (0)
CO-nsider This Your Invitation
CO-DESIGN: An Exhibition of Colorado’s Top Designers
P Design Gallery l July 14 through August 25
A new show featuring contemporary home accessories and furniture from emerging and established Colorado designers.
Opening Reception – Saturday July 14 from 3 to 7 p.m.
P Design Gallery
2590 Walnut St., Denver, Colorado
Posted by Bree at 08:28 PM | Comments (0)
On Repeat
That I might be gone a long, long time
And it's only that I'm askin',
Is there something I can send you to remember me by,
To make your time more easy passin'.
Oh, how can, how can you ask of me again,
It only brings me sorrow.
The same thing I want from you today,
I would want again tomorrow.
* * * *
If it were a boy I was heartsick over, lonely for, and worried about, things might be easier. I've been there before. But this, this separation; this is all new to me.
I miss her.
I miss my best friend.
And there's absolutely nothing I can do about it.
Posted by Bree at 03:21 PM | Comments (0)
The Case of the Purloined Peanut
As I was (relatively ably) assisting Rick in putting together some of my new tables last night, I was (momentarily) distracted by the discovery of two halves of a shelled peanut on the living room floor. Say wha? Not only have I not eaten peanuts here ever, but my dog is a voracious - albeit underskilled - truffle pig and I have housekeepers.
What gives, legume?
This is totally reminiscent of the time on 77th Street when I came home from work and found the toilet seat up. Turns out there wasn't, in fact, a well-mannered burglar in the vicinity - just a brother with an extra key and a bladderful of fun to empty before his drive back to Westchester. Needless to say, I was a bit disturbed 'til that one was cracked. One can only hope there is a similarly understandable explanation for the mystery goober pea.
Like sleep-eating.
Or aliens.
Posted by Bree at 12:31 PM | Comments (0)
July 09, 2007
Telling It Like It Is
Posted by Bree at 05:11 PM | Comments (0)
Apple = Crapple
Allow me to bitch and moan my sputum all o'er this joint for a min. Listen, I know that everyone loves Apple, but you know what - I'm on my FOURTH ipod and my THIRD computer and they've, pretty much without exception, all sucked ass.
I just got a call that my hard drive on my laptop is scraped.
Over.
Donezo.
They couldn't get anything off of it.
And guess what? This is the SECOND time I've had an Apple hard drive just fall over and give up the fight on me. (The Imac back on 69th Street caught the dengue apparently even though I used it only for the most cursory dial-up web browsing EVER.) Suhweet. Luckily, most of my stuff is backed up on both my desktop (which has been in and out of the shop countless times) and my external hard drive, and the best of the rest is on my Gmail or put on Flickr or my web site but MAN, this chaps my hide.
Especially since I bet you 8 bazillion bucks I have some major problem getting it back on the wireless network here. [Insert ARGHHHHHH.] Curse you Mercury in retrograde! Curse you!
Posted by Bree at 01:17 PM | Comments (0)
Happy Birthday J-Person!!!!
Three cheers for JennFrox! You're totes my fave, durlin' lady.
Keep on with your bad self, etc. and amen.
Love,
L. Ron
Posted by Bree at 08:31 AM | Comments (0)
July 08, 2007
Another Weekend Gone
Look for the pictures soon enough.
Posted by Bree at 09:37 PM | Comments (0)
Something to Consider
"Any sign is an admission of architectural failure." - Massimo Vignelli
Posted by Bree at 08:05 PM | Comments (0)
July 07, 2007
What Thee Fug?
Ghastly. That's what I have to say about this Mercury in Retrograde action that makes electronics go all kerfluey. It's in the house of horrorscoops for everyone until July 10, and while normally I'm not a huge believer in this kind of stuff, ALL of my things have gone haywire in the past few days.
Example: TV totally got the "spins." Solved it by tightening up a cord. Regardless, point stands.
Example: My laptop, after crashing several times, now refuses to turn on.
Example: I just went to buy several bottles of wine (from Above the Rim - a "new to me" store over on 19th and Pennsylvania - very, very interesting selection, guy apparently used to be the wine buyer at Applejack, support your local merchants, etc.) and their credit card processor wouldn't work. Now I have to go back on my way out to dins tonight. If there wasn't a Barolo involved in this purchase, that errand might be...forgotten.
Example: Three words --> Air. Fucking. Conditioner.
Example: My car is out of gas.
OK, that last one - perhaps a no-dice. But the rest! The REST!
Ahhhh! So irked about the laptop. I just had it into the shoppe last Monday, and now foresee a Genius bar appointment this Monday. Man. I'm like Job over here. Pass the dates and...pita? <-- Knowlege of biblical foodstuffs limited by stunted theological studies. There, I said it.
Posted by Bree at 02:38 PM | Comments (0)
Putting the "Stifie" in Justified
Did I ever admit to you - loyal readership - that when I was a copywriter, headlines and subheads were my Waterloo? I could jam out a 1,000-worder on some skyscraper's HVAC system and cooling towers in no time flatus, but would turn it into my bosses headlineless...just hoping they'd take the bait and slap one on for me. It rarely worked.
Glad to see this problem's been solved.
Stifie.
HHAHAHAHAHA.
Gene Genius! And WAY better than my first draft --> "Justified and Ancient," which is...oh...the title of a song from 1991 by KLF. Somehow I thought I might be the only one to remember that.
Anys - on to the point. I was cruising around in my new Google Reader sites this morning (I know I'm like the last kid to the RMS feed party, but whatever. I had better things to do. Like figure out my VCR timer.), and saw that Holly at decor8 had posted about Pantone's latest color recommendations. And here's where the stifie comes in (<-- awesome): two of the colors are ones I'm using in my house! Cue the horns.
The bigger one on the left is, more or less, the color of my bedroom. (The bigger one on the right is, more or less, the color of agony.)
The bigger one on the right is a more muted shade of the color of my dining room. I tend to think turquoise aids digestion. Then again, I don't cook.
(N-benz: I would trim those in photoshop, but my computes is acting like a wicked dick this morning, so don't have the time to cajole it into servitude. Apoplectic apologies and the like.)
So psyched to have design affirmation from the good lads and lassies at Pantone! Almost - but not quite - as psyched as I was this morning when I found a gigundus diet Red Bull in my fridge. Cut horns, cue percussion.
Posted by Bree at 11:05 AM | Comments (0)
July 06, 2007
Impossible to Top
This picture from Matt just made my month. Reeeedonx.
Posted by Bree at 06:19 PM | Comments (0)
Inbox: Special "Only in Your Dreams" Edition
From: [REDACTED married male friend]
To: briggles
Date: Jul 6, 2007 3:20 PM
Subject: Re: Fwd: Where has the time gone?
I had a dirty dream about you last night.....crazy!!!!
From: briggles
To: [REDACTED married male friend]
Date: Jul 6, 2007 3:28 PM
Subject: Re: Fwd: Where has the time gone?
I hope I was good.
From: [REDACTED married male friend]
To: briggles
Date: Jul 6, 2007 3:58 PM
Subject: Re: Fwd: Where has the time gone?
lets just say i woke up with a woody, you were AMAZING!
* * * * *
Ah. At least I'm getting it on on some plane. Granted with a totally committed and ASLEEP father and husband who lives several states away. Reassuring to see my reputation precedes me into the deepest realms of the subconscious, howevs. Time to go ogle myself.
Posted by Bree at 05:31 PM | Comments (0)
July 05, 2007
Cracked
I did it.
I cracked.
I'm back on the sauce.
The man sauce.
Damn. I know it's not good, I know I need to be all "Whee! Bree! Discover your passion; realize your dreams!" but come on. I just want a summer fling, somebody to drink margs with and wrap my legs around and smooch on the sidewalk...That's not too much to ask, is it?
[Ducking head.]
Dude, I've been called it before and I'll no doubt be called it again: I am boy-fucking-crazy. Can't keep away. And further, I don't want to.
So, I'm going to keep trying to be all cool with the getting on with things on my own terms, but no promises up in this piece. Simply put, I like hanging with the fellas too much to stay alone for long. Even if I do look like Michael Jackson.
Posted by Bree at 10:56 PM | Comments (0)
Radio Shack Attack
Ever since Radio Shack on Montague sold me a REFURBISHED PHONE AS NEW FIVE DAYS BEFORE THEIR CONTRACT WITH VERIZON EXPIRED AND FAILED TO MENTION OH ANY OF IT, they've totally been on my shitlist. I know it's surprising.
That said, I'm such a lovesick fool for this Ipod Alarm Clock, I feel like I might just have to take 'em back.
Oh it's a mistake - it is, it is! But I'm weak. I'm just so weak.
Posted by Bree at 02:26 PM | Comments (0)
Level With Me. Shamon.
Do I look like Michael Jackson?
Do I?
Posted by Bree at 12:32 PM | Comments (0)
House Schtuff
In a spectacular display of hungover multi-tasking yesterday afternoon, I managed to assuage my Netflix guilt while hitting up the crrrazy summer sales (from the comf of my own couch, naturaments). The following pieces will be arriving at some time sometime, at which point I will cajole my fella friends into installing them for me. Like clockwork, I be.
Number one - Sconce for the bedroom. Marked down from $130 to $70 at Resto.
(Mine's in silver...'cause it's second best.)
Number two - runner for upstairs hallway to make the Deuce feel more comfortable. Marked down from $500 to $350 at Po Barn.
Also picked up some bath hardware (towel bar, tp holder, etc.) while I was there to fance up the john a bit. Nothing like THIS, but one always needs aspirations. (Get it? Ass-pirations? HAHAHAHHAHA.)
In other news on the house front, the painters are coming in a little over a week to basically do the whole thing up! Very exciting, though I am nerrrrvous about the rather odd color choice I made for the bedroom. In a word: raspberry.
As for what's going to go atop these beauteous walls, I've got a number of new art pieces at the framers (hulllooo, $$$. damn.) as well as the Jason Miller mirror (so! psyched!), and Rick just hung my big ole chalkboard in the office last week, so yes, things are all coalescing. The gardens are looking beautiful, the lawn is well-fertilized with 1,001 Deuce turds and I'm ordering my snapping deck tiles this week...
Most importantly, I snaked an earlier air conditioning repair appointment so once that gets fixed, I'll actually be able to spend time here without wanting to remove my skin with a vegetable peeler. Whee! Won't that be nice. You're all invited over to celebrate. We'll sit around in our woolens and try to see just how cold we can make it.
Posted by Bree at 09:34 AM | Comments (0)
July 04, 2007
Keep Reminding Yourself
"The process has become more important than the product."*(**) - Tucker Shaw
*Click on through to see where this came from - a book I bought at Rare Device and have been reading and rereading these past few years.
**Man! Once word gets out about this whole Google thing, shit's gawn get crazy! Just a prediction.
Posted by Bree at 11:50 PM | Comments (0)
Five Word Movie Review FORF
Williamstown? Awesome! Movie? Not so.
Posted by Bree at 03:06 PM | Comments (0)
July 03, 2007
Meh
I just found a little pit bull in my alley. Maybe a year old. He looked all scruffy and tired and when I approached him and tried to get him to come to me, he ran away...limping. The dude stopped and looked back a few times, but wouldn't come.
I called 311 to see if they could pick him up, and they said they'd send someone over. I think that was the right thing to do, though I do believe they have a pit bull kill policy in the city of Denver. Now I just feel sad. Meh is right. If you've got a beast nearby, give 'em an extra squeeze or two.
My hand is TAKING OVER THE WORLD
Or just go visit Fandy Patinkin. Either or should send you off to a good night.
Posted by Bree at 05:25 PM | Comments (0)
Tuesday Advertising Meeting
Click on through to check out the brillig new Sony Bravia ad (directed by Jonathan Glazer) or just watch it here:
Course, I don't dig it quite as much as the beauteous one below but that's to be expected. After all, whereas I like clowns and paint and brick buildings, I like like ping pong and that song and San Francisco and the jumpy frog.
Posted by Bree at 03:12 PM | Comments (0)
July 02, 2007
Tech Report
I spent part of my day off today at the Apple store waiting to get the old girl serviced (she's got a sticky little button and no, I'm not going ANYWHERE with that one). Naturally, I took the time to play with the new iphone. You may have heard of it? Some sort of something jingamig. You got me.
Seeing as his is the only phone number I know, and 'cause he's patient with my random communications and spastic texting style, Matt was on the receiving end of my bungled messages. Example "Thsi kyboard sucks! - Brew"
Seriously. It kept autocorrecting my name into BREW. He thought it was very funny.
That thing is aggressive...you think you've x-ed out the autocorrect option it suggests and when you're focused on, I don't know, finding the "D" button, it sneaks it back in. For someone like me, who writes words like anys, obveez, natch, totes, and etcetera ad infinauseum (you may have noticed), that no can do. Leave ma steez alone, Steve Jobs!
Otherwise, I'd snap one up in a second 'cause I'm a whore for the flash as well as a whore for the glamour. Well...I mean if they were on some network other than AT&T. AT&T sucks the big ones. The big telecom ones. Don't play coy - you know exactly what I'm saying you sticky little button, you.
Excuse me now, I have to go dip my dog in an alcohol bath. It's roughly 90 degrees in my house and she's pretending to be in some sort of distress...whaaa?
Posted by Bree at 08:44 PM | Comments (0)
REMINDER
Watch Wilson on Jeopardy tonight!
Posted by Bree at 04:31 PM | Comments (0)
Hair! I Wanna Live Forever...
So. I'm thinking of growing my hair out again. Clearly, this is one last stab at the retention of youth during the inevitable step - step - hobble towards middle age. But seeing as I've already given up smoking, high glycemic carbohydrates and speedball benders, I feel like this one can slide through the wrinkly cracks for a few more months. Besides, my hair is all curly and nice right now...longest it's been in a while, and I'm digging on it. Some estrogenial riddle has even seen fit to grant me ringlets. Moi? Senorita straight-hair? No longer.
I'm hoping it turns into something like this:
(taken at a wedding in LI in autumn of 2002 or 2003)
Or Bulb's hair of the last few years:
(taken at the NOW-DEFUNCT Purple Pub, gasp - sigh - keen)
Or Zoe's hair:
(taken at El's birthday at Lolita's...and no, I can't think of a single NOW-DEFUNCT thing about this picture 'cept that nail Marcus is all gnawing on.)
And NOTHING like this:
(taken in 1,000 Islands with the NOW-DEFUNCT dog, Magic)
Granted - it was still wet in that last picture and that was before I discovered styling products but it was also flat as a Johnny Cake (2nd mention this week!). Stringy. Boring. Clearly not fit to rock those shoes. Or that boyfriend. Alllllssss I'm saying is this: I need some body and depth up in this piece, but really want to shy away from the layers for a while. It just got too crazy there for a bit - all thinned out on the bottom and giguntus on the top - and was looking pretty. fucking. bad. 'round the holidays this year.
All right. You can go now. This fascinating follicular fete has wound down and they're starting to put up the chairs. Don't forget to take a centerpiece.
Posted by Bree at 03:36 PM | Comments (0)
Time Check
I like how when I posted the below, it was "morning" to me.
Posted by Bree at 01:54 PM | Comments (0)
Life Lessons From Gangsta Rap
On this Monday morning, I invite you all to join with me in celebrating the spirit and forbearance of Dr. Dre, Ph.D. As a rule, I try to channel his attitude, strength and joie de vivre during each and every one of my daily ablutions, and that's not just the chron talkin'.
Here's the Doctor's first lesson in rectitude:
When I see you I'm-a step on you and not even know it
You midget
Carry on.
But remember...they're ALL midgets. All of them.
Posted by Bree at 01:20 PM | Comments (0)
July 01, 2007
Question
WHEN IN THE FUCK DID I MOVE TO PHOENIX?
Posted by Bree at 10:17 PM | Comments (0)
Nota [Gross] Benz: Thai-er Beware
Me and the skier boy got delivery last night from a popular Thai place on Colfax. After he ate all of his, he started grubbing mine (which was the E5 - stir-fried veggies, garlic sauce, brown rice) and pulled out of his mouth a piece of plastic ZIP-TIE. A few bites later, he pulled out another piece of plastic. (Bear in mind we were sitting outside, eating in the dark, and the plastic pieces actually looked like bean sprouts.) I called the restaurant - they gave me a credit for a free meal, and we continued on with our evening.
So, this morning, I get up and go to throw out the one styrofoam container left on the counter. Right next to it? A little maggoty worm. On my counter. Now - granted - one could have nothing to do with the either, but I am meticulously clean in the kitchen (due to the fact I don't cook or own any food - ever), and I have NEVER seen anything like that in my house. I don't really care about that stuff too too much (after the fact, I mean), and I probably am not going to tell him (unless he's reading this - in which case, "Hi! So sorry I ordered from the vile restaurant of wormy infestation and salmonella-laden plasticates! My bad!") because it'll probably just gross him out and I have no hard proof, but EW.
The more I think about it, EW EW EW.
Anyone want a free meal credit? Just use my name and phone number. I'm serious. The chances I'm calling that place again range from .0001 to .00001 percent.
Posted by Bree at 02:34 PM | Comments (0)
5 Word Movie Review Sunday *SPECIAL*ADVANCE*SCREENING*
Live Free or Die Hard (3:30, Pavillions)
...will kick Bill Clay's ass!
Posted by Bree at 02:25 PM | Comments (0)
Mmm, Pass the Aspic Ball
This is exactly why I don't eat samosas or Johnny Cakes. Clearly, there is some digestive process that makes them TRIPLE in size the second they hit the 'ole buddha...too many days have spent howling in agony to ever trust those dirty carb bombs again. But a pill? Manufactured by the Italians? Tested on 20 people? Sign me SO up. I'm gonna take, like, four and see if I can reacquaint myself with the Argentinian distention of last summer. Buenos. Tiempos.
Posted by Bree at 12:08 PM | Comments (0)
Leave Only Footprints, Take Only Memories
The boys, Deuce and I went for a hike up to the top of "Chief Mountain" in Evergreen yesterday. Given that it was close to 100 degrees down here and in the low 70s up there, the choice was a little less crazy than it might appear from the outset.
Conversely, I did see something yesterday that has gotten more crazy than it appeared from the outset.
This man is not wearing shorts. He is wearing UNDERPANTS. As shorts.
Dang cuz. It's this kind of stuff that gets my ass out of bed before 7 on a Sunday...well that and he's totally hogging the covers.
Posted by Bree at 06:53 AM | Comments (0)
Taking a Cue From Dromomaniac...
Sometimes the lyrics just sum it all up. 'specially when them lyrics are Bowie's.
You always were the one that knew
They sold us for the likes of you
I always wanted new surroundings
A room to rent while the lizards lay crying in the heat
Trying to remember who to meet
I would take a foxy kind of stand
While tens of thousands found me in demand
When you rock 'n' roll with me
No one else I'd rather be
Nobody here can do it for me
I'm in tears again
When you rock 'n' roll with me
Gentle hearts are counted down
The queue is out of sight and out of sounds
Me, I'm out of breath, but not quite doubting
I've found a door which lets me out!
When you rock 'n' roll with me
No one else I'd rather be
Nobody down here can do it for me
I'm in tears again
When you rock 'n' roll with me
Posted by Bree at 12:53 AM | Comments (0)