Ok, I know there's all kinds of things wrong with this sketch but before starting I said "I'm not going to erase anything on this one. And I'm doing this in less than 5 minutes." This was the result. Not horrible but nothing to shout about. And that's ok; I learned a lot in this little exercise by setting these parameters, actually. I won't bore you with them. But I thoroughly enjoyed myself and not just because I was listening to my subject's sweet and simple strumming while I drew.
Friday, February 29, 2008
I is for Iron & Wine
Ok, I know there's all kinds of things wrong with this sketch but before starting I said "I'm not going to erase anything on this one. And I'm doing this in less than 5 minutes." This was the result. Not horrible but nothing to shout about. And that's ok; I learned a lot in this little exercise by setting these parameters, actually. I won't bore you with them. But I thoroughly enjoyed myself and not just because I was listening to my subject's sweet and simple strumming while I drew.
Book 3
As this is the first book I've made with all my own materials, it is ownly fitting that I start giving these beauties names.
"An Egg That Was Boiled in an Un-Watched Pot After Rolling Around in Some Moss Without Gather Any"
"An Egg That Was Boiled in an Un-Watched Pot After Rolling Around in Some Moss Without Gather Any"
Thursday, February 28, 2008
A Perfect Illustration of the Circle of Life
So awhile ago, I had a post listing some things I was embarassed about, one of them being a newly developed immunity to antiperspirant. I regret to report that I am still on a quest to find a deodorant/antiperspirant that:
a)Works
b)Smells good
c)Won't give me a rash
Funny. In college, that was my exact list for My Ideal Mate.
a)Works
b)Smells good
c)Won't give me a rash
Funny. In college, that was my exact list for My Ideal Mate.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
My Poor Child
Thanks to the genius of Seinfeld, "Man Hands" is now a household phrase. We may even know a girl or two who truly have hands that look like a man's, something we've chuckled over when they are revealed by the beholder, whipped out and held up for all to see at a baby shower, play date, book club, Girl's Nite Out, etc.: places where only the deepest, darkest secrets are told. And now I'd like to add my blog to that list.
I don't have Man Hands. I have Little Boy Hands. Short, squatty palms with stubby fingers that resemble Vienna Sausages.
Don't get me wrong; I am grateful for my hands. They are good at many things, like getting food out of the kitchen drain since the knuckle-headed previous owners of our house did not put in a garbage disposal. I can wipe a poopy diaper with just one wipe, expertly folding it over again and again. I have a naturally firm handshake and have impressed many a Bishop. And these hands can yank my rowdy kids out of sacrament meeting as fast as you can say "By way of announcement." My hands have been good to me, as ugly as they are. My only regret regarding this matter is that I have recently realized I have passed the Little Boy Hand gene onto my girls. Especially May. Her hands are miniatures of mine, the poor thing. They sure do look sweet that tiny, though. Maybe she'll be able to rock the black nail polish better than her mother someday.
I don't have Man Hands. I have Little Boy Hands. Short, squatty palms with stubby fingers that resemble Vienna Sausages.
Don't get me wrong; I am grateful for my hands. They are good at many things, like getting food out of the kitchen drain since the knuckle-headed previous owners of our house did not put in a garbage disposal. I can wipe a poopy diaper with just one wipe, expertly folding it over again and again. I have a naturally firm handshake and have impressed many a Bishop. And these hands can yank my rowdy kids out of sacrament meeting as fast as you can say "By way of announcement." My hands have been good to me, as ugly as they are. My only regret regarding this matter is that I have recently realized I have passed the Little Boy Hand gene onto my girls. Especially May. Her hands are miniatures of mine, the poor thing. They sure do look sweet that tiny, though. Maybe she'll be able to rock the black nail polish better than her mother someday. 
Monday, February 25, 2008
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Why My Head Hurts At the End of Each Day
Our friends the M's just got new carpet put in. This is something Ruby overheard my friend and I talking about weeks ago. Something extremely close to this conversation took place in the car on they way to their house yesterday:
Ruby: Are we going to the M's?
Me: Yep.
Ruby: Do they have their new carpet yet?
Me: Yah. How did you know?
R: I heard you talking about it.
Me: Wow, you have a good memory.
R: So what does it look like?
Me: Just like their old carpet.
R: Then why did they get new carpet?
Me: Because their basement flooded and they decided to recarpet everything.
R: So it's not the same carpet?
Me: Yah, it's the same.
R: It's all wet?
Me: No, it's dry. It's not the same carpet, it just looks the same.
R: But what if I don't like it?
Me: Why wouldn't you like it?
R: Because it's not the same carpet.
Me: But it is the same carpet.
R: You said it wasn't.
Me: No. I said it looked the same. You won't be able to tell the difference.
R: But why didn't they just keep their old carpet. I liked that carpet. I wish it was the same.
Me: It is the same. It will look the same.
R: But I said what if I don't like it?
Me: Ruby, you don't have to like it. You don't live there.
R: But I don't want to see it if I won't like it. Do you think I'll like it?
Me: Yes. I think you will.
R: But what if I don't?
Me: Ruby?
R: What?
Me: We're done now.
R: Ok. (and in the exact same breath:) Hey! Look at that tree! Those branches make a T! That tree is trying to spell a word. What's that tree trying to spell, Mom?
(Insert yet another frustrating conversation here.)
Ruby: Are we going to the M's?
Me: Yep.
Ruby: Do they have their new carpet yet?
Me: Yah. How did you know?
R: I heard you talking about it.
Me: Wow, you have a good memory.
R: So what does it look like?
Me: Just like their old carpet.
R: Then why did they get new carpet?
Me: Because their basement flooded and they decided to recarpet everything.
R: So it's not the same carpet?
Me: Yah, it's the same.
R: It's all wet?
Me: No, it's dry. It's not the same carpet, it just looks the same.
R: But what if I don't like it?
Me: Why wouldn't you like it?
R: Because it's not the same carpet.
Me: But it is the same carpet.
R: You said it wasn't.
Me: No. I said it looked the same. You won't be able to tell the difference.
R: But why didn't they just keep their old carpet. I liked that carpet. I wish it was the same.
Me: It is the same. It will look the same.
R: But I said what if I don't like it?
Me: Ruby, you don't have to like it. You don't live there.
R: But I don't want to see it if I won't like it. Do you think I'll like it?
Me: Yes. I think you will.
R: But what if I don't?
Me: Ruby?
R: What?
Me: We're done now.
R: Ok. (and in the exact same breath:) Hey! Look at that tree! Those branches make a T! That tree is trying to spell a word. What's that tree trying to spell, Mom?
(Insert yet another frustrating conversation here.)
D is for Dalai Lama
(I would have loved to have done his hands but there was a funky glare on the photo I was doing it from, though I could have figured it out from a different picture but had already spent more time on it than I had planned on, blahblahblah and can I just say how sick I am of my ghetto scanner)
Saturday, February 23, 2008
We Party Hard
There has been an abundance of parties we've attended in the past week or so. Here are some pictures that the hostesses have sent me from two of them. And yes, I wore the same shirt to both. I have a major thing for long sleeved white t-shirts.
A Super Hero party: create your own super hero and come as it. Go was "Super Sleepy" and I, his arch nemisis: "Rise n' Shine." It was a "raucous good time." (That was for you, Dealer.) And a close up of my homemade eggs and bacon earrings. You can't see it but Go has a pillowcase for a cape. Like my toasties? You can totally get away with doing things like that when you have below-average sized boobs.
A princess birthday party that the girls got dolled up for and I got to (insert deep inhale here) hold a baby.
A Super Hero party: create your own super hero and come as it. Go was "Super Sleepy" and I, his arch nemisis: "Rise n' Shine." It was a "raucous good time." (That was for you, Dealer.) And a close up of my homemade eggs and bacon earrings. You can't see it but Go has a pillowcase for a cape. Like my toasties? You can totally get away with doing things like that when you have below-average sized boobs.
A princess birthday party that the girls got dolled up for and I got to (insert deep inhale here) hold a baby.
Friday, February 22, 2008
Thursday, February 21, 2008
A Is For Annie...and Absorbed
Ok, so I know choosing a self portrait for the first installment of Sketch O' the Day comes off as super self-absorbed, but in my defense Annie does start with A. I swear I'm not really as self-absorbed as you might think I am. Or maybe I really am as self-absorbed as you think. I'm going to sit here for awhile and ponder about myself and I'll let you all know if I decide if I'm self-absorbed or not. Then, maybe I'll post about my decided level of self absorbedness, whatever the results my ponderings about myself may be. And after everyone has had sufficient time to think about me and what I had to say about myself, you can all comment about what you think about what I thought about myself.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
A Long Story That You Really Don't Need to Read, So If You Want To Just Skip To The Last Paragraph, You'll Get The General Idea and I'll Never Know
I have a lot of artistic interests but have a very short attention span. But something that I must do, that I feel like is the basis of all of these things/phases I go in and out and back into (Oil painting! Jewelry making! Watercolor! Origami! Inks! Photography! Knitting! BOOKBINDING!) is drawing.
Artistically, I'd say I had a rough time in college. This is something I briefly wrote about in my .justloveit. article for .lovelife. magazine this month. In high school, I was known as a good artist. I won contests and awards, I had artsy jobs, my binder was covered in drawings, along with several pairs of my shoes and sometimes my arms or the arms of people that sat next to me in class, etc. And I thought I was the bomb when I got accepted to The BYU's competitive art program and hey! You guys are even giving me a scholarship? Dude! I'm the best artist in the world. Needless to say, I was a bit puffed up by the time I got to Provo but my ego balloon was quickly punctured. I was small potatoes compared to most of the other students in the program. I struggled in my classes and quickly lost motivation and just sort of floated through the rest of my time there, barely keeping my head above water, never stretching myself to produce greatness and never accomplishing anything.
The very last semester something happened, though. I was sitting in the HFAC (the art building on campus for all you non-zoobies), looking around at the pieces on the walls and the gallery in the middle of the building and hating myself for never putting in the effort it took to produce the level of artwork that everyone else in my program had. I was just sitting there, in the total depths of despair and quickly becoming hysterical, which wouldn't have turned too many heads since we shared the building with the drama department. Just another girl sobbing in the corner, that's all. I felt completely defeated and thought/prayed "Did I just completely waste the past 4 years of my life? Is this what I really should have done?" And then I looked up and walking across the floor not 20 feet away from me was a former illustration teacher of mine who happened to also be an art student with my mom back in the day. It was like BOOM. That's my answer. So I got up, wiped the snot from my face and went over to her. I blurted out everything I was feeling and said something "I know I was supposed to bump into you today." She agreed and told me she never came to the HFAC, as her building (the illustration building - the Brimhall) was clear across campus but she decided to take a stroll on a whim and wasn't that a funny coincidence? And why don't I start meeting with her once a week in her office? A total answer to my prayer and thus, a miracle in my life that I have never viewed as small. So over the next couple of months, I started meeting with her and I learned more from those meetings than I did in all of my four years there. The advice she gave me that rings in my head every day but I have been completely bad, bad, bad in following was that I need to draw in my sketchbook. Every. Single. Day. To make my sketchbook an integral part of my daily life.
I have been thinking about her and what she did for me a lot lately. She gave me along with an Italian cookbook, a Lisbeth Zwerger book as a wedding present - The Wizard of Oz. The last illustration, with the poppies--that's the cover. During those meetings, she taught me how to oil paint. She opened my eyes to different styles. To artists, to designers, to illustrators. To Arthur Rackham. She shared her snacks with me. She put her phone on speaker so I could hear her husband's hilarious stream of semi-swear words after he stubbed his toe. She shared similar feelings of failure but also her successes with me. She gave me her home phone number. She showed me her work. She asked my opinion. She gave me assignments. She was exactly what I needed.
I've felt very crafty lately and I don't like feeling crafty. I am an artist and I need to get back to my roots, so I'm going to try to sketch everyday. And I'm going to (gasp!) post them. There, I just made myself accountable. I'm not going take too much time on them or the task will seem too daunting and this will just be another passing phase instead of the habit I want it to become; 10 minutes a day is all. So I'm going to start with letters of the alphabet, like an "A is for ___" type thing, every day a different letter. This feels good.
Artistically, I'd say I had a rough time in college. This is something I briefly wrote about in my .justloveit. article for .lovelife. magazine this month. In high school, I was known as a good artist. I won contests and awards, I had artsy jobs, my binder was covered in drawings, along with several pairs of my shoes and sometimes my arms or the arms of people that sat next to me in class, etc. And I thought I was the bomb when I got accepted to The BYU's competitive art program and hey! You guys are even giving me a scholarship? Dude! I'm the best artist in the world. Needless to say, I was a bit puffed up by the time I got to Provo but my ego balloon was quickly punctured. I was small potatoes compared to most of the other students in the program. I struggled in my classes and quickly lost motivation and just sort of floated through the rest of my time there, barely keeping my head above water, never stretching myself to produce greatness and never accomplishing anything.
The very last semester something happened, though. I was sitting in the HFAC (the art building on campus for all you non-zoobies), looking around at the pieces on the walls and the gallery in the middle of the building and hating myself for never putting in the effort it took to produce the level of artwork that everyone else in my program had. I was just sitting there, in the total depths of despair and quickly becoming hysterical, which wouldn't have turned too many heads since we shared the building with the drama department. Just another girl sobbing in the corner, that's all. I felt completely defeated and thought/prayed "Did I just completely waste the past 4 years of my life? Is this what I really should have done?" And then I looked up and walking across the floor not 20 feet away from me was a former illustration teacher of mine who happened to also be an art student with my mom back in the day. It was like BOOM. That's my answer. So I got up, wiped the snot from my face and went over to her. I blurted out everything I was feeling and said something "I know I was supposed to bump into you today." She agreed and told me she never came to the HFAC, as her building (the illustration building - the Brimhall) was clear across campus but she decided to take a stroll on a whim and wasn't that a funny coincidence? And why don't I start meeting with her once a week in her office? A total answer to my prayer and thus, a miracle in my life that I have never viewed as small. So over the next couple of months, I started meeting with her and I learned more from those meetings than I did in all of my four years there. The advice she gave me that rings in my head every day but I have been completely bad, bad, bad in following was that I need to draw in my sketchbook. Every. Single. Day. To make my sketchbook an integral part of my daily life.
I have been thinking about her and what she did for me a lot lately. She gave me along with an Italian cookbook, a Lisbeth Zwerger book as a wedding present - The Wizard of Oz. The last illustration, with the poppies--that's the cover. During those meetings, she taught me how to oil paint. She opened my eyes to different styles. To artists, to designers, to illustrators. To Arthur Rackham. She shared her snacks with me. She put her phone on speaker so I could hear her husband's hilarious stream of semi-swear words after he stubbed his toe. She shared similar feelings of failure but also her successes with me. She gave me her home phone number. She showed me her work. She asked my opinion. She gave me assignments. She was exactly what I needed.
I've felt very crafty lately and I don't like feeling crafty. I am an artist and I need to get back to my roots, so I'm going to try to sketch everyday. And I'm going to (gasp!) post them. There, I just made myself accountable. I'm not going take too much time on them or the task will seem too daunting and this will just be another passing phase instead of the habit I want it to become; 10 minutes a day is all. So I'm going to start with letters of the alphabet, like an "A is for ___" type thing, every day a different letter. This feels good.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Monday, February 18, 2008
Boring Things That Have Blown My Mind Today
1. May is as almost old now as Ruby was when May was born.
Ruby at 28ish? months
May at 28ish months
2. May has started potty training, per her request.
3. I again got referred to as "short," something that keeps happening on a regular basis. I'm pushing 5'7", people. Since when is that short?
4. It is still winter here. This shouldn't blow my mind, but it does. I feel like I haven't seen the sun in years. Any day now, evolution will find me here in PA and my eyeballs will start to shrivel up inside my head because who needs eyesight when everything is drab and grey anyway? It will not only be up to my keen sense of smell but also my keen sense of rhythm to guide me through the darkness.
5. The large mountain of laundry my small family produces.
6. The dinner I made this evening: Fettucine with sausage, sage and crispy garlic. Red leaf salad with oranges. Roasted broccoli with asiago. And for dessert: Dulce de Leche Chocolate Chunk Bread Pudding. This tummy would like to thank Bon Appetit magazine for the inspiration and the SIL/BIL that gifted us with it.
Ruby at 28ish? months
May at 28ish months
2. May has started potty training, per her request.
3. I again got referred to as "short," something that keeps happening on a regular basis. I'm pushing 5'7", people. Since when is that short?
4. It is still winter here. This shouldn't blow my mind, but it does. I feel like I haven't seen the sun in years. Any day now, evolution will find me here in PA and my eyeballs will start to shrivel up inside my head because who needs eyesight when everything is drab and grey anyway? It will not only be up to my keen sense of smell but also my keen sense of rhythm to guide me through the darkness.
5. The large mountain of laundry my small family produces.
6. The dinner I made this evening: Fettucine with sausage, sage and crispy garlic. Red leaf salad with oranges. Roasted broccoli with asiago. And for dessert: Dulce de Leche Chocolate Chunk Bread Pudding. This tummy would like to thank Bon Appetit magazine for the inspiration and the SIL/BIL that gifted us with it.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Only in the East
Today I ran the track alongside an Abe Lincoln impersonator.
I so wanted to ask "Abe Lincon, do you wear boxers, briefs, or pantaloons?" but decided against it, knowing that I'd get an honest answer.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Mine
I
"A successful marriage requires falling in love many times, always with the same person."
I have fallen in love with this man more times than the amount of pictures he let me take of him a morning after he had worked all night long, even wearing the sweater that I requested he wear. And this is someone who does not like his picture taken and who also does not like to be told what to wear. He must really love me, too.
I have fallen in love with this man more times than the amount of pictures he let me take of him a morning after he had worked all night long, even wearing the sweater that I requested he wear. And this is someone who does not like his picture taken and who also does not like to be told what to wear. He must really love me, too.
And to those who are reading this, I probably love you too, but to a lesser and different degree, of course. Nevertheless, love is love. Happy Valentine's Day everyone.As Political As I Get
Here's the real reason why McCaine is ahead:
Mike Huckabee's chilling resemblance to 24's Season 5 Shady-McShaderson President Logan.
Now there's good a reason not to vote for someone.
Mike Huckabee's chilling resemblance to 24's Season 5 Shady-McShaderson President Logan.
Now there's good a reason not to vote for someone.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
There's a Fungus Among Us
*if I ever change my blog's name, you know it will be changed to the title of this post.
When my Mom was in town awhile ago, she let Ruby pick out some rain boots. These are what she was immediately drawn to:
Hearts, the color purple and cats. Three of my most unfavorite things. I tried to steer her towards these, but to no avail:
Oh well. So when Ruby first got these hideous devil-cat boots, she wanted to wear them all the time, which was fine but I kept finding her wearing them without socks on. I had forgotten what I had told her that made her finally start wearing socks. I was reminded yesterday with the following conversation:
Me: Rubes, get your boots on, quick, quick. We have to go to the mail box.
Ruby: Where are my socks?
Me: Don't worry about your socks, just throw your boots on. Hurry, we're going to miss the mail man.
Ruby: (shrieking) BUT I CAN'T WEAR MY BOOTS WITHOUT MY SOCKS ON! YOU SAID!
Me: Stop yelling. We'll be in the car for like 30 seconds, you'll be ok this time.
Ruby: (inbetween a shriek, a wail and a sob) BUT YOU SAID IF I WORE MY BOOTS WITHOUT MY SOCKS, MUSHROOMS WOULD GROW IN BETWEEN MY TOES!
Oh yeah...so that was how I got her to start wearing socks...
When my Mom was in town awhile ago, she let Ruby pick out some rain boots. These are what she was immediately drawn to:
Hearts, the color purple and cats. Three of my most unfavorite things. I tried to steer her towards these, but to no avail:
Oh well. So when Ruby first got these hideous devil-cat boots, she wanted to wear them all the time, which was fine but I kept finding her wearing them without socks on. I had forgotten what I had told her that made her finally start wearing socks. I was reminded yesterday with the following conversation:
Me: Rubes, get your boots on, quick, quick. We have to go to the mail box.
Ruby: Where are my socks?
Me: Don't worry about your socks, just throw your boots on. Hurry, we're going to miss the mail man.
Ruby: (shrieking) BUT I CAN'T WEAR MY BOOTS WITHOUT MY SOCKS ON! YOU SAID!
Me: Stop yelling. We'll be in the car for like 30 seconds, you'll be ok this time.
Ruby: (inbetween a shriek, a wail and a sob) BUT YOU SAID IF I WORE MY BOOTS WITHOUT MY SOCKS, MUSHROOMS WOULD GROW IN BETWEEN MY TOES!
Oh yeah...so that was how I got her to start wearing socks...
Monday, February 11, 2008
The Journey
I found this gem misplaced in one of my computer files this morning. At a glance, they are just some high school photos. But look a little closer. You won't have to look too close. This just isn't a visual tale of awkwardness, but also a tale of masacre, a tale of misery, a tale of horror, a tale of survival and revival. May I present: The Little Eyebrows That Could.
Friday, February 08, 2008
Haven't Been There, But Done This
A friend who's private blog I'm lucky enough to read recently made a list of "been there, done thats." It was lengthy and impressive, filled with meaningful things she had done in foreign lands. Quite frankly, I was blown away. It was no surprise, though; she has always seemed wise beyond her years. And of course, like a typical female, I inadvertently started comparing myself to her and her list. Foreign lands? Tijuana. Does that count?
So I made my own list of twenty "been there, done thats". Some are meaningful, most aren't and they definitely all happened right here in the land of Wal-Marts and Wonder Bread.
1.I have pushed out two babies. Can I get an "Ew, gross!" from all the guys in the house?
2.I have eaten sea weed off of a sandy shore.
3.I have vomitted in the bathroom of a Kentucky Fried Chicken after eating sea weed off of a sandy shore.
4.I have seen the smoke plumes of the World Trade Center in person from the streets of NYC, minutes after they fell.
5.I have sat beside too many hospital beds.
6.I have been a "model" at a fitness convention in Chicago, riding a spin bike for over two hours straight.
7.I have performed a Mary Katherine Gallagher act on stage. Twice.
8.I have seriously been asked how many other wives my husband has.
9.I have fled several retirement centers in various stages of panic.
10.I have flirted my way out of a $75 library fine.
11.I have swam in the ocean with my clothes on in February.
12.I have almost gotten hypothermia driving home from Newport Beach with sopping wet clothes in February in an old VW that had no heat.
13. I have pushed my dead VW van through many an intersection.
14.I have beat my youngest BIL in Speed, Scrabble, MasterMind, Spit and Ping Pong. Yah, that's what I said, Coulter. Boo yah.
15.I have crashed my hand through a window during church.
16.I have donated 14 inches of my hair to Locks of Love.
17.I have had my bottom pinched by an old man.
18.I have started several food fights.
19.I have 10.1 days worth of music on our iTunes.
20.I have conquered my fear of karoake and was 0% drunk while I did it.
So I made my own list of twenty "been there, done thats". Some are meaningful, most aren't and they definitely all happened right here in the land of Wal-Marts and Wonder Bread.
1.I have pushed out two babies. Can I get an "Ew, gross!" from all the guys in the house?
2.I have eaten sea weed off of a sandy shore.
3.I have vomitted in the bathroom of a Kentucky Fried Chicken after eating sea weed off of a sandy shore.
4.I have seen the smoke plumes of the World Trade Center in person from the streets of NYC, minutes after they fell.
5.I have sat beside too many hospital beds.
6.I have been a "model" at a fitness convention in Chicago, riding a spin bike for over two hours straight.
7.I have performed a Mary Katherine Gallagher act on stage. Twice.
8.I have seriously been asked how many other wives my husband has.
9.I have fled several retirement centers in various stages of panic.
10.I have flirted my way out of a $75 library fine.
11.I have swam in the ocean with my clothes on in February.
12.I have almost gotten hypothermia driving home from Newport Beach with sopping wet clothes in February in an old VW that had no heat.
13. I have pushed my dead VW van through many an intersection.
14.I have beat my youngest BIL in Speed, Scrabble, MasterMind, Spit and Ping Pong. Yah, that's what I said, Coulter. Boo yah.
15.I have crashed my hand through a window during church.
16.I have donated 14 inches of my hair to Locks of Love.
17.I have had my bottom pinched by an old man.
18.I have started several food fights.
19.I have 10.1 days worth of music on our iTunes.
20.I have conquered my fear of karoake and was 0% drunk while I did it.
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
Statute of Limitations
Ruby: Mom, do you want to hear my dream last night?
Me: Sure.
Ruby: I dreamt you made me some eggs but you know how the "oke" is always yellow? The ones you made me had brown "okes" and they were stinky but you still said I had to eat them. And guess what?
Me: What?
Ruby: I am ate them all, even though I didn't want to. Aren't you proud of me?
Me: ...Yes?...
Me: Sure.
Ruby: I dreamt you made me some eggs but you know how the "oke" is always yellow? The ones you made me had brown "okes" and they were stinky but you still said I had to eat them. And guess what?
Me: What?
Ruby: I am ate them all, even though I didn't want to. Aren't you proud of me?
Me: ...Yes?...
February's Issue
Edition 3 of .LOVELIFE. magazine, the online women's magazine I write for, is out. Read it while it's hot and read it like it's hot.
Tuesday, February 05, 2008
This Movie Was Good
I really enjoyed this one. Michael Douglas depicted crazy at its finest. It was a good story with complicated, interesting characters and appropriately ended with "California Stars" by Wilco with Billy Bragg, which is one of my top 10 favorite songs. Maybe top 5. It perfectly captured the mood of what I was feeling by the end. And redemption is a theme I never get tired of. King of California is just a really good movie.
Sunday, February 03, 2008
Outfits and Volume Therapy
When May's dresses get too short for her to wear but still fit ok in the arms, I pair them with jeans. I absolutely love this look.
I always pictured myself being the mother of a bunch of wild little boys. (I guess this could technically still be a possibility. ) Thank goodness I've got my girls because I don't think little boys could pull this off quite as well.
Oh, May May. We're having issues right now. She has an extremely loud speaking voice. I shouldn't say "speaking." I should say "yelling" or "hollaring." She isn't mad, she just has a super loud voice. I'm afraid my eardrums are going to rupture one of these days.
When I was young, I stuttered pretty badly and went to speech therapy. The therapist told my Mom to talk to me slowly, clearly and enunciate every word. I'm trying this method out with May. I try to talk to her very softly, almost whispering, but so far it hasn't worked.
May: MAMA! MILK PLEASE!
Me: May, I'm standing right next to you, you don't need to yell.
May: OK MAMA!
Me: That's yelling. Try saying "Ok Mama." See, how my voice is quiet? Can you do that?
May: OK MAMA! MILK PLEASE!
Well, at least she's yelling "please."
I always pictured myself being the mother of a bunch of wild little boys. (I guess this could technically still be a possibility. ) Thank goodness I've got my girls because I don't think little boys could pull this off quite as well.
Oh, May May. We're having issues right now. She has an extremely loud speaking voice. I shouldn't say "speaking." I should say "yelling" or "hollaring." She isn't mad, she just has a super loud voice. I'm afraid my eardrums are going to rupture one of these days.
When I was young, I stuttered pretty badly and went to speech therapy. The therapist told my Mom to talk to me slowly, clearly and enunciate every word. I'm trying this method out with May. I try to talk to her very softly, almost whispering, but so far it hasn't worked.
May: MAMA! MILK PLEASE!
Me: May, I'm standing right next to you, you don't need to yell.
May: OK MAMA!
Me: That's yelling. Try saying "Ok Mama." See, how my voice is quiet? Can you do that?
May: OK MAMA! MILK PLEASE!
Well, at least she's yelling "please."
Fun With Capitals F-U-N
The party I shot for Saturday was a blast and the pictures turned out great, thanks to my lovely new bounce flash, which was the BIGGEST. Lifesaver. Ever. The whole thing was a blast. Let me tell you, shooting for an event is a whole different animal than doing portraits, etc. It was a 2-hr adrenaline rush.
I now have a little photography site.
Nothing fancy. Take a look at it any time you want, as I'll be posting most of my photos there from now on.
A BIG thank you to all of my photo buddies for answering my emails, answering my phone calls, and answering all of my questions no matter how stupid they may be. It's my questions that are stupid...not my pals.
I now have a little photography site.
Nothing fancy. Take a look at it any time you want, as I'll be posting most of my photos there from now on.
A BIG thank you to all of my photo buddies for answering my emails, answering my phone calls, and answering all of my questions no matter how stupid they may be. It's my questions that are stupid...not my pals.
Friday, February 01, 2008
How Bout Some Gold Bracelets?
Tomorrow, I have a real photography gig: a one-year old's birthday bash in a poorly lit building. And I have a major aversion to flash photography, so this could be interesting. I'm actually going to take Ruby today to the place to case the joint. If I know what to expect and do a run through, I think it will help me be more confident and definitely make my images better. And tomorrow, I have to look like I know what I'm doing. Hey, stop laughing!
For this reason, I cannot get the following dialogue out of my head, especially Kip's classic line. I may look like Uncle Rico (thanks for pointing that one out, Alisa) but I do a mean Kip impression.
Uncle Rico: We also need some way to make us look official, like we got all the answers.
Kip: How bout some gold bracelets?
Uncle Rico: We need like some name tags with our picture on it, all laminated and what not. I mean, we gotta look legit, man!
Now, this guys looks legit:
For this reason, I cannot get the following dialogue out of my head, especially Kip's classic line. I may look like Uncle Rico (thanks for pointing that one out, Alisa) but I do a mean Kip impression.
Uncle Rico: We also need some way to make us look official, like we got all the answers.
Kip: How bout some gold bracelets?
Uncle Rico: We need like some name tags with our picture on it, all laminated and what not. I mean, we gotta look legit, man!
Now, this guys looks legit:
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)