Monthly Archives: June 2005

Shit shit, kitty.

Well, there it is. The open letter didn’t work. The previous owner of my cat, the one who said that if I ever didn’t want it I should call her and she’d take the cat back, has told me that her husband won’t let her take the cat back.
So, anyone want a cat?

She’s declawed
She’s cuddly
She’s not a kitten
She’s aesthetically pleasing

She’s not a kitten
She’s overly furry
She meows at night unless you have a rolled up sock available for her to carry around like it’s a kitten.


Last night a crafter saved my life

Last night, Kat came over and we tried round two of homemade silkscreened shirts. After a little hemming and hawing about what to make, I suggested using a picture of a friend jumping up in the air. I Photoshopped the image into a shadow (by increasing contrast) and we were off!

I am working on a design for a friend, but I decided to try the stencil out on a hoodie meant for me, to make sure it worked well. (You can read that as “It looked so cool, I wanted it for myself.”)

After meticulous outlining with Modge Podge, there was a brief lull while the goo dried.

If you don’t know what the significance of the particular domino I chose is, you’re simply not cool.


We decided to mix the acrylic paint with more water this time, thinking that a thinner paint would spread easier, and not get caught in the screen as much.


Tada! I got some paint on my hand, and my hand brushed the hoodie, so that’s why there’s a dark splotch in the upper left corner of the pocket.


Aaaaaand we’re done.
jumpdone 61on

Big Ending Scene dream

Last night I dreamed and dreamed and dreamed. I think it was because I finished Social Blunders, and then had a really good phone conversation directly before going to sleep.

There is so much information packed into the dream, I hardly remember it. I laid in bed this morning trying to remember as much as I could, because once you move, you lose 55%. It’s a fact.

In the big ending scene, my fourth sibling has died. Everyone, a personal cast of hundreds, show up for the funeral/party, held in a city park. Alena and I decided the way our brother would want to be buried was wrapped entirely in a giant flour tortilla. There was a picnic table with him resting on it, and a tray of garnishes and food balanced on his torso. The tortilla was wrapped tight enough that you could make out his head from the rest of his mummified self.

Next in the dream was a parade of friends. A lot of people came dressed festively, as Lena and I had put “party” as the main purpose of the funeral. Both she and I felt halfhearted about this, as we had a recently deceased loved one. More and more friends were drifting into the park, and the general crowd noise level increased.

Jen and Dan came directly from their wedding. She was weepy happy, he was grinning with his whole face (like Dan does), and they were wearing their wedding clothes. They waved, and I realized that they had done this to poignantly state that good things happen in life too.

Anton came, with a full beard, and locked eyes with me as he took one of four unwrapped slices of American cheese off the tray on our fourth sib. He very deliberately folded the cheese and chewed it like it was a communion wafer. I thought this was odd, but didn’t say anything, because Anton is known for his silent, purposeful actions that you either get, figure out later, or never get (and it bugs you because it must have been significant and you feel really obtuse).

I greet more guests, and make my way over to the table with the body. Lena is there, and we look at the tortilla covering the face of our other brother. The tortilla is opaque enough that we can’t see his face, but it’s softening in the sun, and we can make out a nose, where eyes would be, and a slightly opened mouth. I can tell we’re both having the same impulsive thought: maybe I should rip the tortilla open so he can breathe.

We both look up, and realize simultaneously that it would undoubtedly be unpleasant to do that. Alena’s eyes search for something else to look at, and she darts her hand out for a piece of American cheese. The cheese has warmed in the sun, and is floppy. She starts tearing strips and eating them. I start to feel like something significant was about to happen, but I didn’t quite have the foresight to realize what it was. I decided I wanted a piece of cheese too. I took it off the tray, and Lena and I both realized that there was once piece left.

“We have to feed it to him!” said Alena.

I thought she was going to rip the tortilla and stuff cheese down our poor dead brother’s gullet. I started to stop her, but what she did was rip up the cheese into several pieces, and layer them over where the mouth should be. Suddenly I felt the wave of rightness, that somehow the four pieces of American cheese, which the four of us ate, identified us as siblings, something you could never change or take back. Even though he was dead, he was still our brother.

And then, I woke up. I was happy.

(To those of you who don’t know me well, or maybe just don’t know my family, I have two other siblings. I have no idea who the dead guy is supposed to be.)

Vizzle Las Mackin’ Das Vegas

Good god fo’ sheezy. I jizzust spent tha last hour find’n Las Vegas-themed songs fo` a bridal showa we’re chillin’ at work. Let me T-to-tha-izzell you, Tom Jones’ version of Blizzay B-E-Double-Tizzy is awful. He enunciates too mizzay.


[This is what happens if you use Gizoogle.]

Viva Las Leaving Das Vegas

Good god. I just spent the last hour finding Las Vegas-themed songs for a bridal shower we’re having at work. Let me tell you, Tom Jones’ version of Black Betty is awful. He enunciates too much.

Hey, I didn’t throw up!

Jason and I went to Adventureland Six Flags on Saturday. We managed to ride all the rides, and neither of us got sunburn or nauseous. We didn’t go into the water park, so I can’t critique the new addition. I can tell you that I love roller coasters. And Jason kind of. He’s fun to go to the amusement park with.

Tonight is the Quimby’s librarical thingie. I’m looking forward to it, although I am not looking forward to driving during rush hour again. This morning was just a tad of a hellride. Plus there’s an air pollution action day, and I feel guilty driving my car for three hours.

On the upside, I just have to drudge through the next five days, and then I’ll be on 17 days of glorious vacation of some sort or another. First, chilling in Michigan with 106 of my closest Grinnellian classmates friends, then off to NYC to begin a roadtrip that will read like a Family Circus cartoon, ultimately ending in Austin, TX.

Family Circus cartoon

p.s. Check out the bottom of the page. I am part of sciency history.

365 days of stuffed animals

365 days of stuffed animals. Truly, the best idea ever.

I’ve been thinking about making knitted stuffed animals, little abstract guys, but I wonder if making them out of cloth would be easier, not as involved, more wear-worthy, and not take as much time.

Who wants to buy me this $70 sewing machine? I’ll make you a stuffed animal.


cowgirlallisonBelo nebulo (that’s phonetic Czech for “once upon a time”), there once was a princess named Al.

Al, that bitch, had everything she could possibly want. A pony, a Murphy bed, and a great taste in aesthetics. Fortunate for her, she was one of those Iowa girls who grew up knowing that they were going to move to New York. She left home for the bright lights, the big city, and a cute little tin of strawberry-flavored snuff.

Her dream was to be a Rockette. She had the legs, God knows. She auditioned, and found that Kyle MacLachlan not only corrected her pronunciation of “Versace”, but also would only offer her the job if she performed the dance of the seven veils for him. If you know what I mean.

She gave him the backhand finger as she stomped out the door of Radio City Music Hall (she stomped a lot, because her cowboy boots were a size too big).

“I only show my tits if you ask me NOT to,” Al said to herself.

Using only a little bit of moxie, she wrangled herself a spot in this year’s Chashama Oasis festival.

“I’ve only been here two weeks. If everything goes according to plan, I should either be hosting the MTV Movie Awards, or showing folks how to make their own shoes, by fall,” Al said, as she ate another handful of edamame.