Thursday, August 24, 2006

in honor of National Waffle Day...

...let's watch some amusingly demented media!

I call this "Hindi Hoe Down." I don't get it, but that's probably because I'm not stoned. It works well anyway, though -- and the cheapo grafx rawk.

I am a great fan of amusing human oddities, you know.

We have a running joke in my family that the weeping woman in blue is my mom. She is never amused by this, even though we all know it's true....

This is Information Society's "Peace and Love Inc." All I want to know is, why can't MY life look like this? P.S. I LOVELOVELOVE Barbara Kruger, the obvious inspiration behind this video. She is the genius behind such works as "i am your slice of life", "your moments of joy have the precision of military strategy", and "you are seduced by the sex appeal of the inorganic".

Tuesday, August 22, 2006


So I hung out with artist/animator Eric Canete yesterday, and we had the terrific luck of sitting in a restaurant that had thoughtfully covered its tables with paper! So, I browbeat him into drawing something for me, and it turned out like this:

Eric Canete original

We had just been looking at lots of religious iconography at the Norton Simon, so I guess he was still in that 'guardian angel' frame of mind. I fancy myself a bit of a drawer (heh, 'drawer'), but I will never be able to bang out quick sketches like this. DANG, this guy's good.

Also good: the show with zefrank.

I love this man. If I bump into him on the street, I will have a seizure. It will be A Seizure of Joy, but it will still be embarrassing.

And if you want any insight into my early childhood attempts at romantic fantasies, here ya go: the music video for A-ha's "Take On Me."

What I want to know is, why was the restaurant so goshdarn foggy? It wasn't like anyone was smoking, so perhaps it was The Steaminess of Comic Book Love. Back to complete seriousness, that moment where the girl takes the hand sticking out of the comic book still gives me a major frisson. Other girls, back in second grade, had their Prince-Charming-on-a-white-unicorn-coming-to-sweep-you-off-your-feet fantasies; mine all involved running around stark, hand-drawn landscapes with hot Norwegians, where everyone had enough mousse in their hair to deflect small bullets. I was the coolest second-grader ever, but nobody knew it except me. Story of my life....

Monday, August 7, 2006

wish it were a Sunday, 'cause that's my fun day

I saw the headline Uribe sworn in amid high security, and I read "Uribe" as "Oribe." This gave me a good half minute of head-scratching; why, I wondered, would the hairstylist Oribe require high security for anything? Everybody loves Oribe!

Anyway, in the spirit of enlightening all y'all (yes, yes, I know, I'm not Southern, therefore I have no business saying "y'all"; shuddup), here are some upcoming August dates which I strongly suggest we all observe. Each one is absolutely for real, at least according to these people:

Particularly Preposterous Packaging Day: 7
Hurry up before this one's over! I'm not exactly sure what constitutes 'preposterous,' but Sephora might offer one a good lead.

Sneak Some Zucchini Onto Your Neighbor's Porch Night: 8
Hells yeah! Self explanatory.

National Underwear Day: 9
Some of my best friends wear underwear. Now you can, too!

National Duran Duran Appreciation Day: 10
Need I say more? "UMF" is one of my absolute favorite tracks; it sounds hella funk nasty, but it also works for just plain ol' jumping around, which I like to do in creaky elevators. Okay, not really.

S'mores Day: 10
Every day should be S'mores Day!

Kool-Aid Day: 11-13
Kool-Aid's so special, it gets THREE days of fabulosity. Enjoy this one to the hilt, unless you're Jim Jones and live in Guyana. I'll be drinking the blue flavor out of a Windex bottle and freaking everyone out.

Eleanor Roosevelt Day: 12

Vinyl Record Day: 12
Does anyone have a record player which can play my swingin' big band 78s? This is a serious question.

National Navajo Code Talkers Day: 14
Better than Pig Latin for hiding secrets from the kids.

Bad Poetry Day: 18
Every day should be Bad Poetr-- no, wait....

'Black Cow' Root Beer Float Day: 19
I've never had one, but I've been meaning to for 28 years. I believe my time has come.

Vinegar Day: 20
Man, I loves me the balsamic vinegar. I could seriously drink that stuff straight from the bottle. But then who'd kiss me, besides olive oil fanatics?

Southern Hemisphere Hoodie Hoo Day: 22
I don't want to know. I just don't want to know.

Valentino Day: 23
From Wikipedia: "Valentino's reputation still stands as a legendary sex symbol of androgynous appeal. To this day many fans, some dressed as sheiks, flappers or women in black, make an annual pilgrimage on the day of Valentino's death to his crypt at the Hollywood Forever Cemetery. . . . 'Sheik' brand condoms, introduced onto the market in the 1930's, were named after Valentino's most famous role and for years featured Valentino's silhouette on the packaging. . . . The Bangles mention Valentino in their pop hit "Manic Monday", written by Prince."

All I have to say is: PRINCE WROTE "MANIC MONDAY"? How did I not know this?!

Vesuvius Day: 24
Enjoy some chocolate lava cake. You know you wanna.

Crackers Over The Keyboard Day: 28
Every day should be Crackers Over the Keyboard Day! In my case, it really is. And Brownies Over the Keyboard Day. And Peanut Butter Straight Out of the Jar Day. Don't worry, I only eat the reduced-fat stuff.

National Toasted Marshmallow Day: 30
See S'mores Day.

You may now return to your regularly scheduled life.

Friday, August 4, 2006

ah, sweet mystery of MySpace

It's official: the number of views on my website has now hit 1000. Not a big deal to most, probably, but it does leave me a bit baffled. Am I getting a lot of repeat views? Or have 1000 people checked me out? If it's the former, then you folks need to get a life. If it's the latter, then how did I get so popular?

Such are the mysteries of MySpace, I guess.

I shall now proceed to spend my Friday night cleaning up my place. This is not because I have no life—there are scads of people getting pissed that I'm not calling/hanging out with them, sorry everyone!—but I've been feeling the need to retreat lately. And to clean up my place. I am so very sleep-deprived, and my place is so very messy. I hope I don't accidentally put laundry detergent in the dishwasher, although I suspect the results wouldn't be too different.

Ooh! I almost forgot, I got my teeth cleaned today! After the scraping, lecturing about flossing, and toothbrush goody bag, I felt like a new woman, cleansed in body and soul. And then I had a burrito. What can I say, I like being a creature of contradictions.

Also, since my brain is on random-fire right now: when did it become okay to wear high heels with shorts? Or tights with shorts? Or high heels with tights and shorts? Silly, silly people! Try wearing belts on your wrists instead; that'll show the world you're an 'individual,' just like everybody else.

And now I'm going to clean. And take a nap. Not necessarily in that order. But hopefully not concurrently.

Wednesday, August 2, 2006

i heart statistical anomalies

So! I just had the most satisfyingly wonderful weekend in the longest time. I was in San Francisco, hanging out with my friends Craig (supercool math professor who gets flown around the world so that people can pick his brain) and James (supercool architectural conservationist who gets flown around the world to save ancient cathedrals from turning into dust). They are extraordinarily good-hearted, hilarious, whipsmart people who make me feel like a beautiful, brilliant art goddess by the time I head home. And if that's not the definition of best friends ever, then I'll eat my hat. Hell, I'll eat ALL my hats. And that's a lot of hats, because I'm still a bit of a hat person.

Where to begin? Either in pairs or as a group, we ate at French bistros with charming musical trios; we saw John Kricfalusi at the Castro; I bought a sari; we walked all the way across the Golden Gate Bridge at sunset and back; we ate dim sum and nearly had to be rolled out of the restaurant; we talked our mouths off and laughed our heads off and hung out with avant-garde opera singers and other mathematicians and lived in Xanadu. No, seriously, Craig's lodgings at Stanford (he was flown out for the week from UWisc) are called "Xanadu," and the logo from the film of the same name is visible in the lobby. Alas, neither roller skates, nor extreme neon, nor Olivia Newton-John were visible at any point in the trip, but it was still nice. There was a piano.