Things were going pretty well. I got pretty seriously fryingpanned in the face last weekend by a few things and I still can't get my head on straight about it. Come on, lady. No time to mope. There are commitments and obligations and the ever-onward march toward forever after to contend with and each day refuses to contain more than 24 hours as much as I shake my fists and demand it. There's no time to lay on the floor listening to the Smiths and sighing. But I want to.
(That's just a metaphor, guys. I don't listen to the Smiths when I am sad. Or sit in the bathtub for days at a time. Those are other people's techniques. I stare into the middle distance, whine on the internet, drink like an asshole, get FURIOUS that I am so stupid and throw several mental tantrums about it and don't get my work done. Dummy.)
Instead let's listen to Cosmonauts and tear off giant chunks of our to-do lists with our teeth:
Speaking of cosmonauts, this fucking old nugget wormholed into my brain for no reason a few days ago and made a home. No sign of leaving. Hmph. Weird, considering I don't think I have heard it since I was in like the 8th grade or something:
Hey! I am having like a total pioneer woman week. Tonight some babes are getting together on the rooftop balcony of my hot photographer friend and she is teaching us how to hook rugs. Seriously. That is a thing I will know how to do after today. Take THAT winter. If that doesn't get me on a good team post zombie-apocalypse then I just don't know what. I plan to do hooked rug portraits. Huge ones. I think a living room sized Nobunny rug portrait would be a great place to start. Then maybe my dog.
Actually, let's be fair:
The other thing is that in preparation for my upcoming cabin wedding, I am forcing a bunch of my cute nice friends to come over and help me pickle various things in cute jars as guest favours. What no one knows is that I have never pickled anything in my life, with the exception of my liver. It could be a total disaster, OR it could be another pioneer lady skill that will come in handy when I have decided to give up on humans and go to live in the forest alone. I have recipes. They had to work for someone, right? What could go wrong?
Speaking of alone (and I am not going to dwell on this, don't worry) SWEET MERCIFUL FUCK, CAN WEDDING PLANNING EVER SUCK IT!!! Man, this is brutal. I want to make a list of all the people whose weddings I attended and give them several extra presents. How do people do this? Anyone want to take over? I'd be happy to skip town and go eat pickles and hook rugs in the forest. All the face-fryingpanning is not helping that scenario either. So dumb. I can't wait until it is the day and there is nothing else I can crap my pants about so I can just have awesome friend times and romance times and it will all be... settled.
Anyway. Whine whine. Sorry.
Oh, this is really awesome! Dara Humniski is selling some art! I know I talk about her non stop on this blog, but she's totally amazing.
(Scratch card & ink, unframed - $200)
So good. Sigh.
I would just like to say that if I hear another sweaty word from ANYONE about Fifty Shades of Grey I am going to start punching in teeth. Gross.
That being said, I am out of books that I want to read. Does anyone have a list they can share with me? It's summer so, you know, keep it interesting. Not sweaty nerd masturbation interesting, as mentioned above. Thx.
Fish just recommended "Empire of the Summer Moon" by S.C. Gwynne.
Review is here: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/06/11/books/review/excerpt-empire-of-the-summer-moon.html?pagewanted=all
He said it kind of reads a bit like Blood Meridian, which of course blew my fucking hair back because Cormac McCarthy is a genius and a dark motherfucker. He actually said it was like Blood Meridian except that the story is all true. So... you know, I am debating whether or not I can actually handle that. I think it may put my melodrama into perspective so maybe I can get over myself and get some shit done. Seems a good reason.
Anyway, sorry for the lame post. I'm too busy.