these days of leiderhosen

I frighten people in elevators. But it's their own damn fault, with their very small talk and all. It's because we all dutifully face the door, much like having great intimate conversations during roadtrips (the enforced non-eye-contact zone). Only it's an elevator. Must remember to not say too much. Today the Ugly Toad Asperger's Lady came to moderate a meeting with an even more hideous haircut. It was all I could do not to grab the paper shears and fix her fucking bangs or cut my own throat the when the meeting ran 45 painful minutes over. Are even Therapists are uncomfortable talking about despair?! Good Lord! What? Why?! Ya mean everyone doesn't/didn't feel that way?! (Thank you Lexapro for one less thing to worry about.) I've been overdue on my Etsy feedback and got most of it off in one big swipe. Don't you hate when your dealer who gives you the really really good goods (in my case, merino superwash or somesuch woolly wool) gives you grief, slack...

Of all the crazy wonderful things I find on etsy.com that absolutely needed a to mention to you, Dear Reader, I have been remiss in passing along some of the most entertaining material ever which would the the marketing prose of the puppetmaker StaceyRebecca. She will provide us with legs and finger tubes for a nominal fee and I find that strangely soothing. StaceyRebecca is the genius who invented " A fistful of love: finger puppet of the month club ". And how wicked cool is that. Currently nursing a crush on Broadway Icon by the Ounce Kristen Chenoweth . And if you haven't seen Pushing Daisies you might be missing something. Like Olive Snook jumping on her bed in triumph or bursting into song. I'd watch it for the art direction alone, but the rest of it is pretty good too.

How wildcrazybeautiful is this crocheted dinosaur skull ? (or any crocheted skull for that matter). Grandma was apparently a good influence, particularly where this artist's penis pillows are concerned. And I wonder why nobody comments on this blog. I figure since this blog continues to be a virtual self-pantsing of the twaddle running around my brain, I'm gonna come clean. I am headed to therapy again; my second foray into some hot mental assistance. Honestly: the yearly concentrated conversations I have had with physicians about what the hell is going on my life and the family have helped far more than any mental health professional, but that last mhp was a Doofus of the Highest Order, complete with some very questionable Native American art and his very own Pacific Northwest drum circle. This time, it's a broad and she's right around the corner from my house. She seems very nice on the phone. Let's hope for the best, shall we?

Joe's NYC is one of my favorite photo site of all time. I cruise through the archives, weeks at a time and am never ever disappointed.

George Booth of New Yorker cartoon fame is, aside from The Steven, the artist most able to make me snort coffee out my nose. This umbrella would cause no end of trouble. Today on the walk to work, outside the old apartment building by Addison Annex there were five huge dusty boxes of the sidewalk crammed with old National Enquirers from the early '80s, Reader's Digests and old physics and mathematics books in both Chinese and English. I picked up three unlikely titles with the most marginalia (blue ballpoint, English, very tidy). Inside the cover of Introduction to Mathematical Analysis is a hand written receipt dated March 10, 1961 for a calf purse: $7.96. Reading: Suetonius' Twelve Caesars. Dang this is dirty book! The Scruples of the second century. Pondering: These ghosty meringues Craving: the situation that would require the phrase: "Le sta bene."

My desk: 10:54 PM 10/18. this should provide some insight to my mental state and it always looks something like this on a Amber Danger Label day. Some of the less obvious things on display: An Oakland parking ticket with green envelope (expired parking permit, since remedied) Shopping list with three attempts at spelling anchovies. In pencil. Minor teethmarks. 1 skien of merino (renamed Melinda June) and 1 disappointingly small hank of unspun silk Jury Summons (my fourth since moving here), temporarily ignored. Emergency earrings for when I need to masquerade as a grownup. 1 dangly earring currently in use as cat toy. October BookSense One free range House hippo , yellow. 4 oz. Carbonized Bamboo, very shiny, not terribly elastic, doing an amazing impersonation of silk. Pity the stuff is just as expensive. Das 'Po has said he might accept a scarf out of said stuff. (He hates wool.) I love the Sartorialist , despite my inability to dress myself in anything but Frye boots and Old...

Today's Berkeley protest; Moms Against the War have taken up residence on Shattuck. The ladies have been out there since 7AM this morning. Pink signs. Lots of honking. Nobody is naked yet. Urgent need: Kleenex at Costco. Honestly. To Make : more homemade wheat bread for toast (How I love love love my Kitchen Aid's bread hook; why would one need a bread machine?), vanilla extract (I am nearly out and have 24 ounces of Madagascar beans in the freezer, wrapped up like some amazing hashish stash.) Craving: Chili and cornbread. And maybe a Guinness. Must be the weather.