Much Too Much of A Hurry

That's right. I'm seriously losing it today, and have absolutely no time to post anything worth while. I slack, therefor I am. I scheduled one too many things for this afternoon, but I'm okay with this. Why? Because I just got paid and it's Halloween! I'm going to get my nails done, buy some face paint(because I rock at painting faces), visit a few school counselors for work and then go have fun. ^__^

Oh-finished the Chinchilla painting last night. Here it is. I cropped a bit too much off, but you get the point.


HaPpY HaLlOwEeN!!!

Positive Thinking

It is currently 55 degrees outside and the sunshine just won't stop. So, I'm all want to go outside, but don't want to freeze my tookis off. Darn you oxymoronic weather! Darn you!

I have yet to get a pumpkin from the farmers' market, and I'm about to go insane. I need to carve a pumpkin. Need to! Ariana keeps talking about her pumpkiny bliss, and I'm at the end of my rope. The end! I'm going to stop emphasizing everything now.

As God as my witness, if in anyway possible, I WILL purchase at least one pumpkin tonight. Maybe by Friday I'll have had a chance to carve it. We'll see how much I get done on this blasted painting tonight and go from there.

Plastic Sunshine

Here's a sneak peak at my latest painting. Before you ask, it's a chinchilla. I don't know what I think yet. I never really know what I think until I've finished. Things tend to change so much during the painting process, I just can't be too sure.

I'm not positive about keeping the retro sunshine. It's my favorite, but a friend of mine was recently struck with the idea of reviving it too. We both had paintings in the process before we knew the others' plans. So, I'm struggling with whether I should keep it or not. Great minds think alike, right? What do you think?

As an artist, I constantly struggle with insecurities about my work. I wonder if I'll ever just be able to paint for a living. It's all I can think about sometimes. Today hasn't been all that productive for me, because all I want to do is go home and paint!

Oh. Complete change in subject. Perhaps I've mentioned the fact that my husband person is a car enthusiast, and that he ropes me into learning car terminology and all that jazz. I've learned bunches of stuff because it's his hobby/interest. It also helps when he sends me crap like this.

Don't get me wrong. I like cars. I even go as far as to say I love old muscle cars. I enjoy off-roading in my Jeep, but this is where I draw my little silent invisible line. On my own time, I'd rather shoot myself in the foot than read about this thing, and I have been shot in the foot before(pellet gun).

I am a good wife. ^__^

Off Kilter

Just out of an obsessive compulsive need to post something I must blather. Today has been pretty much like the rest of this week. Insanely busy and a little numbing. I feel a little off kilter.

I hate funerals with a passion, but the one I went to yesterday wasn't as horrible as some. It was more comforting than most. I have a very strange way of dealing with loss. Not strange for me, but others usually find it a bit odd.

My Grandmother passed away a few years ago and I didn't tell a soul for over six months. Some people were a little angry with me, but that's how I roll. I go numb for a while. I don't choose to do it that way. My brain just tries to deny things for a while. I guess to keep me sane.

I blocked a lot of things out from childhood too. I was abused sexually for years, but had no clue. One day, when I was fourteen years old, I just remembered. It was like a nightmare, and then I realized it was a memory. Really weird.

The mind is an amazing thing. I think it's God's way of protecting us until we can deal with things. Hind sight or whatever.

Okay, that turned out gloomy.

Crafty Distractions

It's not possible for me to not procrastinate. I've been overwhelmed with tasks lately. You've seen my list. Yet, I find myself ignoring the large projects to do little time consuming things, like making little clay vampire incense burners and finishing upcoming swaps.

This little bit of vampiry goodness is for Ari. I made him out of sculpey. Consequently, it's interesting that this clay is for sculpting, yet there's no T in it's spelling. Hmm. Anyhow, with Halloween coming up and our shared obsession for a certain southern gentleman, I thought it appropriate.


My latest swap assignment was to make a fish themed hand made post card. I'm mailing it off today. It's going to Brazil! Hope it makes it without getting rained on. I water colored it.


So, I have absolutely nothing to post about really. Nothing I want to think about anyhow. In case you hadn't figured it out yet. The crafty eye candy is just to hold you over until I actually have something to say.

I have to go to a visitation tonight and a funeral tomorrow. I hate it and I don't want to go. Assembling with a bunch of upset people to cry together about something we have absolutely no control over really isn't my thing. It doesn't really jive with my whole escapist thing.(I didn't make it up Matt. I didn't.^__^) Ugh.

Ok. Off to work.

Bruised Knees and Ice Monsters

Saturday night the husband person and I went ice skating with some friends. We'd never been before, and it was awesome. Todd got a little closer to the ice than he'd intended(a few times) and I whacked my knee into a wall, but overall it was fun.

Apparently ice skates have to cut off the circulation to your feet in order for you to successfully make turns and do swirlies(which are my favorite). It took me about an hour to leave the safety of the wall and venture to swirl. My feet were pretty much numb, but I lapped Todd and welcomed my new found freedom.

I quickly learned that hiking your pants up-all lady like of course-is not a good idea on ice. All adjustments are better made on warm/dry ground. I also learned that using the wall as a stopping device can and will bruise the heck out of your knee, and the kids with the little metal training bar things learn a whole lot faster than the adults. Ice monsters.

Dog In The Box

Who here loves animals? Let's see a show of hands. Alright. Who here likes dogs especially? Prepare to be angered.

My office is downtown across the street from the court house. Everyday a gazillion cars whiz by, like giant schools of fishies. It can get pretty noisy. Today, I heard a dog whimper. Then a yelp. I thought perhaps it was a spoiled mutt waiting not-so-patiently for their person. I quickly found a stopping point in my work to go investigate.

To my surprise there was a county worker's truck parked across the street. One of the animal control ones. A big white Chevy with a silver box in the bed. That's where the puppy pleas were coming from. Correction-CAME FROM ALL DAY! That truck was there until 4, and that doggy just cried and cried!

Animals have to be picked up and taken to the pound sometimes. I understand that. Can't they at least make it swift! Chances are this mutt bit someone, which will grant him immediate night-nights, or he's been scrounging for food in someones garbage bin, in an attempt to survive. So, this guy decides to leave the mutt to rot in this big metal box.

Both of my dogs are of the mutt persuasion. I found them hungry, cold and homeless. Now they're family. We were friends in seconds and cuddling on the way to the vet. They are forever grateful for my hospitality and I their love and fuzzy, slobbery goodness. Why can't everyone love animals enough to keep them from these sort of situations?

What possesses people to get critters if they aren't going to love and care for them?! Why do they let them run around without being spayed/neutered?! There are just way too many irresponsible, self-absorbed, desensitized jack-offs that find it necessary to have animals, but not take care of them.

Now, I want to know what was so all-fired important in that court house that a county worker had to leave an unattended, frightened, most likely thirsty/hungry animal in a cold metal box for hours?! Seriously. I guarantee he was in there flirting with a secretary, and didn't give that dog a second thought.

So, there I sat in my office on a beautiful fall Monday afternoon, listening to a pitiful puppy cry for help. I was so waiting for that dude to stroll out of the court house. I wanted to ask him what his business consisted of today. I wanted to know where that doggy came from, where it was going, and unless it bit someone and was acting rabid, which it's was not, why it deserved to sit in a cold metal box with no food or water for all afternoon. I'm really curious.

My husband thinks I'm overreacting. He usually does. He proposes that perhaps the man had a very sound excuse for his neglect. Perhaps the animal was safer in the box than where he was prior to his abduction. Perhaps. Perhaps. Perrrrrrrhaps.

Perhaps that doesn't change the fact that he was whimpering in a box across from my office. Someone was careless somewhere down the line and I am so tired of seeing animals suffer because of inconsiderate people.

Life IS Good

It has been brought to my attention that I have known some very dear people for a very long time. Thanks Matt. I'm ignoring the oldness factor and focusing on the positive here, which we will get to at some point.

Growing up my mother moved us around a good bit. I swear she was a gypsy. I know I didn't have it as bad as some, but I hated it none-the-less. My Dad was never around, but my mom's abusive jerk of a boyfriend instead. He stalked us across states! We moved when I was eight. Again when I was nine. When I was ten. Then when I was fourteen.

All through high school she talked about moving elsewhere. I dreaded it. I couldn't wait until I turned eighteen so I could stay right where I was. Any place would do. I just wanted to stay somewhere, and know someone longer than a year or two. So, you see my issues with moving.

Traveling is one thing, but leaving for good is still not my cup of tea. I have major baggage in that area. Despite my knowledge and power to keep in touch, I tend to regress into that eight, nine, ten year old kid. When we moved I never saw or talked to any of those people ever again. Ever. It was like whole worlds were left behind, including my father. I knew they still existed without me, and that ticked me off.

The fact is that I never felt like I knew anyone. Not really. As a lot of teenagers do, I became severely depressed in high school. I had tons of friends, but just didn't accept that any of them truly cared about me. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew that if I left that world would go on. Without missing a beat. Without missing me. Peachy.

So, there I was. Angry. Convinced I was separated from all the normal people. Normal being those who'd known each other since kindergarten. All the drama, right? All mine was internal, but it was still drama. That's the number one reason I do NOT miss being a teenager. Too many hormones warping your view of the world.

The last time we moved I was fourteen, and somewhere along the way I quit being so freaking' hormonal and self centered. Thank God. I managed to stay in touch with my best friend from Junior High. We only moved about forty-five minutes away from our last "place of residents" that time, and by "in touch" I mean inseparable.

Senior year I could even pass for happy! I was voted class clown and most talented...which is supposed to mean something. All I know for sure is I'm right where I want to be. I have friends/soul mates that I can not and will not live without. God willing.

Maybe knowing the source of an issue really does help you cope. Well, at least adjust. I'm pretty happy knowing why I'm so screwed up, but I still don't want to move. Ever. I have my husband person, a little house on an acre of land, my friends and momentarily stalled out gypsy family. I'm content to travel the globe, but always come back home.

Tonight Tonight

I love girls' nights. Given, they're usually only myself, one of two other gals and one of our three husbands, but it's a treasured event. I seriously go through withdrawals if we miss a week.

I have a few individuals I refer to as soul-mates, and most of them are girls.

List O' Soul Mates

Todd: husband person
Jodi: friends since we were eleven
Ari: friends since we were fourteen
Annie: also friends since we were fourteen

I know I use the term in a manner other than usually directed, but it works. Thus, girls' night is a glorious occasion. I can not live without these people. Breathe? Maybe. Live? Not a chance. We can spend large spans of time apart, but there's something that keeps us wound up in each others lives. We were simply meant to be.

This evening will consist of Ari and I crafting and yapping ourselves into oblivion. She's making the long trek to my place and good times shall be had. Watching my husband attempt to be polite, and escape the estrogen filled living room at the same time, is reason enough to look forward to such gatherings.

Life is good when it's simple.

Gotta head to work!

Handy Dandy Notebook

This chaos of mine comes in waves, and it is almost entirely self inflicted. Who's got the time?! I feel like a Lewis Carol character.

The White Rabbit, desperately scrambling to keep his head.


Alice, stretched too thin, reminding herself that her very good advice is useless when ignored.


There are simply not enough hours in the day to accomplish all this stuff I get myself into. I just find it hard to tell nice people no. Even if they request something completely ridiculous, I acquiesce. Strolling casually into overwhelming situations has become a favorite past time of mine. I feel like my head is hanging by a thread.


This little guy, both adorable and juvenile, is my newest attempt to remain sane and semi-organized. Yes. I have a little notebook addiction. Although, they each serve very separate functions. The moleskin is for brainstorming and sketching. I have another for writing. This one shall be an external hard drive of sorts. So I don't crash and lose it all.

So far my list consists of:
1. fishy post card swap (cause I love me some swap-bot)
2. Halloween sculpey creations
3. a new painting to replace one I sold(bittersweet)
4. three owlies
5. four watercolors of cats
6. one watercolor of a dog
7. a watercolor of my supervisor's baby
8. a commission I DON'T EVEN WANT TO TALK ABOUT!
9. a watercolor of some munchkin I've painted before

Not to mention cleaning my house and getting Kitty's radiator replaced. Yes, I name my vehicles. Laugh if you want. I love her.

Self Inflicted Torture

As an artist, I'm constantly questioning myself. Normally my queries pertain to subject matter and artsy fartsy things. Prussian or cobalt? Panel or canvas? Lately I've been asking, "Why do I do this to myself?!".

Commissions are good. Don't get me wrong. I love to get my art out there. It thrills me to the core when something I've made makes someone else happy. Thrills me! What doesn't thrill me is when someone flatters me, gets me to agree to paint something sometime and then lets me in on the insanely boring, faux finishing idea they have. Then it's too late. I'm obligated. I'd be a mean person if I told them their idea sucked like a hoover, and I'd rather eat a live crustacean than paint it for them.

I am too nice. I really need some classes in saying no. If I would think for a second that this person doesn't truly understand art, that they might think I paint flowers(gag/puke) or landscapes(hack), I might not get into these situations. I agree to things and then find out how deep a hole I've dug.

As Ari so delicately put it. I'm an artist! Not Martha Stewart!!!

Involuntary Manslaughter

I almost killed a man this morning. It was inadvertent of course, but it was funny as heck. He escaped unharmed, except for a possible bruised ego.

Stepping out my office door to retrieve something from my Jeep, I encountered a man, probably in his his mid-thirties. He had a kind face and was heading toward his truck. One of those huge flat bed, extended cab work trucks. The kind usually packed with eight large, muddy booted men. He glanced at me as I walked onto the sidewalk, and then before safely leaving the sidewalk he double-took. There-in lies the rub.

While "checking me out" a second time, those clunky steel-toes of his wandered right off the edge of the sidewalk, sending him toppling. He landed right slap on the grill/hood of his truck! I contained my laughter. I couldn't conceal my Cheshire grin, though.

There was a guy sitting in the truck too. He cracked up and shouted, "Well hell Charlie! Ain't you seen a girl before?!". The stumbly fellow looked at me, at my Jeep, back at me and smiled.

I managed to get my passenger door opened before I let out a blast of laughter. This was not my original destination, but it would do. I felt it necessary to hide my face if I were going to laugh at this silly man.

As he threw his white monstrosity into reverse he waved and smiled. I returned the smile, but had my hands full at this point, heading back to my office door.

Considering my curls today, it may have been a second glance to see if I was Medusa. However, my husband will hear that I almost killed a man with my stunning good looks.

Power & Glory

Alright people. I'm aware that here in blogger world we're all respectful of one another's beliefs and whatnot. By respectful, I mean that I normally refrain from blogging for Jesus(plus the thought of this just kills me). Depending on the flavor of the post many, if not all, of you would be bored to tears. However, I've found something I must share, in order to gather opinions.

A friend of mine gave me this book on c.d. It's called Flabbergasted. So, I've only listened to a little of it, and am not totally sure what I think yet. I haven't gotten much past the character building part, but it's funny so far.

The last part I heard before getting to work this morning was an interesting conversation. This one character had just been pulled over for speeding, and had managed to wrangle the police officer into a conversation. What kind of car would Jesus drive? That was the conversation. I c-r-a-c-k-e-d up!

First they pondered Jesus in a Lincoln, or something equally as ginormous and supposedly fancy. Then they did it. They roped me into listening to the rest of that possibly not-so-interesting novel. I believe it was the cop that offered that Jesus would drive an old muscle car. For all the power and glory.

It makes me think of that old song. My Own Personal Jesus. Anyway, I can so see Jesus in an old Chevelle. All cammed up and sparkly...with racing stripes. I'm usually a Ford or Mopar gal myself, but Chevelles are pretty powerful and glorious. Don't cha think? ^__^

Randomness Ensues

I had every intention of telling you all about the conference I attended in Louisville this past week, and all the cool stuff I heard, saw and consumed. Alas, I'm back to the real world and too overloaded to focus on any one thing.

Please accept a few random photos and brief food reviews as a legitimate post. I'll write something entertaining when I have more brain power to offer.

First up? Food was awesome! We ate at Jarfi's, Lynn's Paradise Cafe, and The Grape Leaf-who doesn't have a site apparently. All so good. Vegetarian wonderfulness. Om nom nom. Well, Lynn's wasn't exactly veggie friendly, but the quirkiness of the joint made up for it. We went there for breakfast anyhow, and that's not really a meaty meal.

Next subject! This guy is lying around on Fourth Street in down town Louisville. Not sure what happened to the rest of him. He's wearing a giant conical hat. He reminded me of the door knockers from Labyrinth.

And then...Todd accompanied me on a visit to the Muhammad Ali Center on Friday. In addition to his amazing story, there was all this great youth art about hopes and dreams. It was thousands of little four inch blocks plastering the walls. I so plan on getting some of the kids at our shelter to do some strength art work, and we'll make our own.^__^

Ooh, and I made yet another owlie. I actually made two, but Polky here's the only one I photographed. He was for my sister, and I have accepted the fact that he will inevitably end up an eyeless chew toy. Alone and blind in a corner. Her rotten kitties, Zoe and Chloe, are twin Siamese. They are the epitome of Si and Am from Lady & The Tramp. F-U-Z-Z-Y E-V-I-L I tell you.

To wrap it up, I've recently joined a handmade swappy thing called swap-bot. I completed my first swap and shipped it off to some chick in Canada. It was a handmade bookmark swap. Since she likes hedgehogs I water colored this little guy. He's kind of a rip off from the Russian animation Hedgehog In The Fog. Seriously awesome. Apparently all Russian animation rocks your socks.

Yeah. Told you it was gonna be random.

The Good, The Bad & The Quirky

The past two days have been extremely random. So, this blog will be too. I have about a million things to vent and have to go to bed like now. You've been warned.

Have you ever been completely blown away by someone, and wondered how you got through life without knowing them, or the light they bring to this dark little world of ours? There's a definite possibility that I'm completely oblivious, but maybe not. Let's see.

Has anyone else heard of Kevin Carroll? He was a guest speaker this morning at this conference. The guy is freakin' awesome. Maybe I think so because we share the same inspiration. Resilience. If you haven't already, read his books! They are essentially children's books for adults! Seriously. Check it out.

All in all, the conference is going well. Besides being sick, not having much of a voice and having to socialize with a million and one folks it's been pleasant. Not to mention pretty interesting. Really, the socializing is the worst of it.

Anyone who knows me will say that I'm an outgoing, friendly gal. Right Ari?^__^ Yet, the level of antisocial tendencies I harbor within are undeniable. I try to smile and not shy away from large, LOUD groups of people, but it hurts me on the inside. Especially if they are touchy, feely ones.

Apparently, I give off some sort of "Come touch my hair and talk about me in third person" old lady pheromone. I swanee. Curly hair attracts little blue haired women from all over the joint. Every trip in the elevator goes a little like this.

Blue Haired Variety: "Would ya look at that hair! She's just adorable. How old are you honey?"
Me: "Twenty-six. Thank you."
Blue Haired Variety: "NO! I thought you were maybe 18! My goodness. Just adorable. Isn't she adorable?!"

After everyone concurs that I'm adorable they continue to talk about me like I'm not there. I just smile. They're sweet and all, but geesh. I'm sure all you girls know how nice is it to be lumped into a group with chunky babies and whimpering puppies. Cute? It just erks me.

Oh! Tomorrow Todd and I are going to the Muhammad Ali Center! Such an amazing man.

Okay. Good night people.

Sleepy Girl

Well folks...I'm too tired to type anything in the least bit witty(if I ever have)or coherent. So, I'm sticking with the facts.

I'm in Kentucky. It's beautiful as always. Training and this head cold(aka The Crud) are kicking my butt. I so want to ditch some part of this conference, and take my husband to the Louisville Slugger Museum/Factory. You can get bats with your names on them!!!

Oh, and life would just be no fun if I wasn't a huge moron. I forgot to cash my check before leaving for another state. Yeah. That's right. My check that can only be cashed at that ridiculously local bank o' mine. Yep. That's the one.

It's great to be me. Thank God my husband finds me spontaneous and entertaining, rather than forgetful and scatter-brained. Thanks for his paycheck too!

Good night cruel world. xoxo