In Coffee Spoons

Hello Kitty tattoo? Adorable. Hello Kitty raw wounds? A little bit WTF.

( Scarification pics behind this. )

I can only imagine the way this turned out, being done in that house by that guy with those supplies. When you are sopping up blood with paper towels in *any* situation, mistakes have been made.

Uno

Dos

Tres

As Kairi pointed out, the longer you put off making your big "This is what's been going on" journal update, the harder it gets. Rambling ho!

School is going...well, it's going. Just a few more weeks left and then I can start worrying about fall semester, which I have to cram a lot of credits into. At least I will no longer be laboring under a flaky teacher whose typos skew the entire course, or a flaky teacher who signs all her correspondence "Peace, love and laughter".

Redoing the outside of the house is pretty much finished. I believe. I hope. I sincerely hope. Looks good. Pics forthcoming.

Went to Mackinac with Mom and Erin, pics also forthcoming. Three guys sitting behind us on the ferry were doing the boat song, so that was stuck in my head all day. We went for the Lilac Festival, but the problem with planning a festival around nature is that nature does not always get the memo. It's been a terrible year for lilacs everywhere. Good times were had anyway. Horses, sunshine, seaside, ice cream, ridiculously expensive gift shops, good times.

Ashley and I both celebrated 25 years without fatal accidents!

( tastypics )

My fancy-ass camera makes me look like a much better photographer than I am sometimes.

Holly and I are planning a kickass party for the 4th and if you're reading this, chances are pretty damn good you're invited. As kickass as this party is going to be (it is going to be kickass), I'm really just excited to be celebrating Independence Day for the first time since I was a kid. I actually feel patriotic. Not ironically or post 9-11 bandwagony, but genuinely thrilled to see an amazing president turning our country around and making it into something to be proud of again. (President Obama, you are so invited to our party.)

Ummmmmmmm um um. That might be it. For now. I've been reading a lot but I'll save that list for its own entry. I have a lot of random pictures to post. And some memes. Later. Woo.

</rambling>

Erin and I hit the Memorial weekend garage sales on Sunday.

I love the things you know you will see every time you go to garage sales. The porcelain and silver stuff that looks old and valuable, but never turns out to be. A blue tarp with rusty old machine parts spread over it. Retro kitchen appliances besides their retro boxes with their white plastic all yellowed. Cardboard boxes full of identical-looking Harlequin romance novels. A little table of things covered in crochet cosies, like tissue boxes and candle holders. The NASCAR beer steins and chipped coffee mugs with witty little gems like "Life's a beach". A sad jumble of crappy toys, about half from the Happy Meals of your childhood.

There were a couple inexplicable finds that day. This would have been fun to dress up, but I don't have room in my closet. This, um. I don't know what the hell this is. Guesses so far have been some kind of dust mop attachment and some kind of homemade bicycle seat cover.

The highlight of the day, though? The Mystery Box.



Me: O.O

Erin: Oh, no.

Me: O.O

Erin: No!

Me: Ooooooooooh!

Erin: You are a rube.

Me: Sir! Sir! I shall take this box!

Two dimes and a nickel later...the box turned out to be empty.

Me: ;_;

Erin: A rube, I say.

The plan is to fill the box with a bunch of random stuff and sneak it into someone else's garage sale on another weekend. I've got a wrench, a Barbie head, a Ramen seasoning packet (chicken), a bent pushpin, some fuzzy purple yarn. Other suggestions are welcome.

And afterwards, Erin took me for watermelon ice cream. How long have I been saying watermelon should be an ice cream flavour? A very. Long. Time.

Best day ever!

Holly came over for a couple of days. It is really ridiculous how close we live to each other versus how often we see each other.

We drank a good amount of gin and a good amount of pomegranate vodka and did a couple cement mixers. This makes the second time I have voluntarily done a cement mixer, and I believe the third time for Holly. We are unique and stupid snowflakes.

We watched Repo! and Newsies. Holly hadn't seen Newsies before, but had the appropriate reaction: "My god, those two are totally in love with each other. How did Disney get away with this?"

Aaaand we had ourselves a little art project. We've both been mediating between friends lately, and dealing with passive-aggressive people. Thus did we hit on two important points:

1. One of the reasons we are friends is because we're both okay saying and/or hearing "You're being fucking ridiculous, and you need to cut this shit out."

2. If we ever do end up fighting, we need to be properly prepared to deal with it.

And that is how we ended up spending an afternoon making anger management sock puppets.





( crafternoon. )

And a good time was had by all. Except the puppets.

I took this picture yesterday, and Erin said I should post it here. So here.

Magical backtracking in time: I had a great birthday. Thank you and <3 <3 <3 to everyone who sent me greetings, even Dap who sent me this what the fuck thank you but what the fuck.

Erin and Mom came for cake (yay) and presents (yay) and Thai food (yay) and shopping (yay).

World's cutest birthday cake.

Kitcheny goodness from my family. Along with a bunch of groceries. So set to cook now. Lot of new recipes I've been wanting to try.

Erin wrangled me a really great DS emulator and downloaded me a bunch of ROMs. I'm failing hardcore at the DS version of Cooking Mama because it requires the mic. Don't stare at me with those flaming fire eyes, Mama! I'm trying my best!

Erin stayed over for a long weekend, which was also great. We watched a ton of movies. A ton. Good movies. Bad movies. Hilariously bad movies. Eraserhead freaked her out more than I was epxecting, but I consider that fair trade for the shit like Felidae and Skywhales that she keeps bringing when she visits.

I just realized how often my celebrations are a blend of cute, fun, and horrific. Awesome.

Other boxes include:

• Magazines, femurs, glitter
  
• Books- Sci-Fi, narcotics, pornography
  
• Books- Fiction, stiletto heels, cigarillos, men's hearts
  
• Tea, snacks, shame, regret
  
• Kitchen gadgets, small animals, firearms
  
• Japanese dishes, canaries, yo-yos
  
• Comics, dirt, rocks, grass
  
• Books- Fiction, caterpillars, lollipops, swingsets
  
• Books- Poetry, coffee, ennui, nickels
  
• Books- Clive, banana peels, diamonds
  
• Books - Horror, small birds, owl pellets
  
• Knick knacks, odds, ends, stuff, junk, incriminating evidence
  

Oh my god I am so desperately in need of bookshelves. I brought a couple hundred of my books and still have more on the way from home.

This is me *finally* updating about my move more than a week after it happens, go me.

Not that, you know, moving and looking for work and looking for a second apartment and getting all my everyday shit like library cards and grocery shopping in order keeps a person busy or anything.

The situation: I took a month-long sublet on a room in a two-bedroom apartment, giving me ample time to look for a job and my own place.

My roommate's name is Darren. He is preparing for medical school. He is adorkable. We see each other once, maybe twice a day, so it's working out just fine.





Better photos (I do not actually live in the dark):

Bedroom, view un

Bedroom, view deux

As you can see, I've already got some furniture type stuff. The guy who was here before me was heading overseas, and didn't want to try and move a bunch of furniture with him. He left me:

* Full mattress set

* Desk

* Computer chair

* Plastic storage bins

* Bookshelf

* Lamp

* Wastebasket

* Empty bag of candy

* Handful of loose change (Is anyone reading this familiar with South African currency?)

* Pervading cologne smell

AND

* An astounding amount of dust for a recently vacated room

Living room

Kitchen with five hundred year old stove (We, uh, like tea)

That kitchen rug is the bane of my existence. It will not stay put. I'm going to fucking duct tape it.

Things are going well. I spent this week settling in and putting in applications everywhere I could find and getting lost. Next week = more formal interviews, like at the hospital, and viewing apartments and probably getting lost some more.

More than anything, just thrilled to the fucking moon that this has finally happened. To the fucking moon, I say!