…the who cares girl…

Today’s goal is to go to the library and obtain a big pile of books to take on our vacation next week, since there’s no Internet connection and I REFUSE to puzzle on my vacation, NO WAY is what I say (now). This puzzle thing reminds me of that episode of “Roseanne” where she becomes addicted to Bingo and totally obsessive and crazed about it. That’s me.

Bear Cub is in the forest area of the backyard, barking. “Go take care of your dog,” the Boy just instructed me, but I’m not particularly bothered by her barking. He is, but he’s leaving soon to go work, and then Mommy’s in charge. Well, Mommy’s always in charge, really.

Yesterday I “accidentally” fell under a puzzle spell and completed 2.5 500 piece puzzles and didn’t emerge until 10 pm. Shit. Time for another self-inflicted break from buying puzzles, as apparently I can’t handle them. They take over my life! I didn’t even call Corinne back! Now puzzles are affecting my friendships! Yaaaah!

Today I’m getting a chemical tan in anticipation of tomorrow’s Gay Pride parade, and I’d like to make some progress on the wig drawing series. NO PUZZLES. You hear me, addictive personality? NO PUZZLES!!!

* Quote by Mason Cooley.

macrame, originally uploaded by …the who cares girl….

My grandfather, the artistic one who painted this and carved elaborate items out of wood, also used to make macrame plant holders. As with most things I associate with my father’s parents (lucite grapes, costume jewelry, alcoholism) I’ve been obsessed with these damn things for years.

Instead of learning how to make them (I have enough hobbies for now) I’ll do the next best thing: EBAY. Yes! Another obsession realized!

My creative juices are flowing again, shazzzing! I love it when that happens.

Maybe it has something to do with going fabric shopping yesterday morning…MUUMMUU SUMMER is nearly upon us!

My aunt just messaged me on Facebook and said, “I hear it’s muummu season” and I wrote back and asked her if she’d like to participate. So far, my mother and Corinne have declined, my Washington Gay said “I love you” but didn’t really give me a yes or no. I’m only sewing muumuus for willing participants!

Optional items to enhance Muumuu Summer: feather boas, fanciful footwear, glitter, and possibly a wig. Or maybe just a giant, floppy summer hat. And of course obnoxious sunglasses–I can never have too many.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: “Crumb” is one of the best documentaries I’ve ever seen.

My art therapy.

Our little greenhouse for starting plants/flowers.

Maggie only wants the rawhide if it poses a challenge to her, like if Bear Cub has it, for example.

She must get her obstinacy from Mommy.

Today’s goals are to work feverishly on sewing projects and finish up the drag queen painting and avoid eating excessively and walk the rogs. Hiiiiigh hopes, I’ve got hiiiiiigh hopes.

I know the reason why every puzzle has 1-4 pieces missing is your dog mouth, Maggie. I’ve only caught you in the act TWICE, but JUST WAIT! (wait for what, I don’t know exactly, but I like to threaten my dog…on my blog)

Corinne tried comparing my current puzzle addiction to her WoW addiction. “You have a gaming addiction!” she shouted triumphantly over the phone.

“Yeah, but my obsessions are short lived. I’ll burn out soon, but you’ve been WoWing now for…how many years?” I said, defensively.

Potatoes, po-tah-toes. She’s slaying dragons, or whatever the fuck, I’m assembling bits of colored cardboard together into boring pictures. No I haven’t looked at “cool” puzzles online! I don’t even want to know they exist! I’ll just stick with my 3.99 “specials” from Walgreens!

My teeth hurt in the place where I had the root canal last year. I have an appointment with the dentist this week. I’m kind of hoping he fucked up so he’ll give me Vicodin, pffft. He was such a tight ass with the Vicodin before. Maybe if I dress nicely, he’ll treat me better. And by “better” I mean “not like an addict”. Addictive behavior? What do I know about addictive behavior?

“Polyester” arrived in the mail from Netflix recently, thank God. I had been itching to see it again for ages and the Boy had never seen it, so we enjoyed it together. Ah, John Waters. My love for you swells with each passing year!

Kissyfur gave me an Odorama card a million years ago, so we could do it up RIGHT.

The incredible thing is, even after years of sitting in a jewelry box, the card still works. The fart scent especially (although it’s nothing compared to Maggie’s farts).

In the film Divine plays Francine Fishpaw, a frazzled housewife with an overactive sense of smell married to a horrible man named Elmer who runs an X-rated movie theater (and wears black socks with white shoes–talk about a crime).

Conservative smut protesters (played by the Dreamlanders‘ actual family members) picket outside her home, screaming about filth and laughing at Francine when she begs them to leave.

Francine’s only friend is Cuddles, a 40-year-old debutante, played by the incomparable Edith Massey. The Boy and I couldn’t believe it when we looked up Edith’s height and it said she was 5’3″.

“That’s taller than Corinne!” I shrieked.

“And my sister! And my mother!” added the Boy.

Francine’s son Dexter is hopelessly addicted to chemicals and foot fetishism, resulting in violent crimes of foot stomping.

At one point Dexter returns home so high on poppers…

…he even stomps on his own mother’s foot.

The Boy and I really like a song called “Frontier Psychiatrist“, by the Avalanches, that features clips of this conversation between Dexter’s principal and Francine.

Her slutty daughter Lulu’s report card. In the commentary John Waters says that as a child he would steal blank report cards from his teacher’s desks, not to make up good grades to show his parents, but to fill up the cards with F’s to obsess over in private.

“I think he makes this stuff up,” scoffed the Boy. I disagree! I like to think John Waters has always been demented, even as a child. It makes me feel good.

Francine’s husband cheats on her with his trashy secretary, played by Mink Stole.

I am not a big fan of cornrows on white people. “She looks bald!” said the Boy.

In the commentary John Waters snickers something about “the glamorous world of heterosexual sex” during this scene. Note John’s own collection of favorite movie posters on the walls.

Elmer drinking champagne out of Mink’s shoe. The thought of drinking liquid out of a shoe makes me nauseous.

Cuddles and Francine bursting in on Elmer and Mink in bed. “Scag” is a great word.

It’s so satisfying when the name of the movie is said during the movie, isn’t it?

Lulu in her pre-abortion outfit. I’ve always enjoyed round collars!

The protesters at the abortion clinic. The expression of the woman on the right is perfect.

There is SO MUCH that I adore about this movie. It’s hard for me to draw the line–how many photos do I take of the screen? (answer: 156). But how many do I upload to Flickr? (15). Why don’t I just do “screen shots”, like the Boy did for “Fight Club”, instead of taking photos of the television screen? Isn’t my method a pain in the ass? The answer is yes, but for some reason now I feel like it’s necessary for me to take photos during the movie for the “full experience”.

Quotes I love:

La Rue: Don’t you know it’s bad luck to let retards in your home?

Lulu: I’m gonna get an abortion and I can’t WAIT!

Francine: Coitus Interruptus?

Lulu: I never wanted to use macramé to kill!

Todd: Let me kiss away your D.T.s, honey.

The only John Waters movie I have owned up until this point is “Serial Mom”. I fear owning movies I’m obsessed with because I know that I will watch them over and over and OVER again and then hate them. That aside, I now have my very own copy of  “Polyester”, and that’s okay, because listening to John Waters commentaries will always fill me with joy.

I could be exaggerating slightly but I’m pretty sure yesterday I puzzled for five consecutive hours (thanks, Adderall). I paused momentarily to shove some dinner into my maw and of course I had to get up to refill my ginger ale glass and pee but I was a woman possessed. The Boy put on some porn (redtube)* to “inspire” me away from the puzzle but the slurping sounds and high-pitched squeals of artificial orgasmic delight just made me snicker.

The “good” news is that I finished that puzzle, so now I’m taking a little break. Because I can feel it coming, the obsession. I can feel it coming and completely dominating my free time, so that instead of painting or sewing or editing my stupid novel I’m hunched over a puzzle for hours a day. Well, NOT THIS TIME! I refuse to let puzzles take over my life! I’m not purchasing any more…for at least…a week. Take that, obsessive personality!

* After a few minutes of redtube he put on the film “Jarhead”, which to me was brimming with homoeroticism.

“Any minute now, there’s gonna be penetration,” I told the Boy excitedly.

“There’s something wrong with you!” he said.

Hot man-on-man lovins never happened, although the main character does mention masturbation a few times (I yelled, “See?” at the Boy). Any movie can be gay when you look at it with the right set of eyes. Or maybe I’ve just been watching too much LOGO.

As a young teenager I became heavily obsessed with puzzles. I would spend hours in my bedroom crouched on the floor, listening to oldies music and assembling puzzle after puzzle. I was really good–I bet my father that I could put together a 8 1/2 x 11 inch holographic silver glitter puzzle in less than an hour, and I did.

The only problem was that given my A.D.D. and obliviousness to clutter, the puzzles started taking up more and more space and gathering dust. After asking me for what was probably the 20th time to PICK UP YOUR PUZZLES and having me ignore her, my mother threw my puzzles away. All of them.

I hadn’t touched a puzzle in years until a co-worker recently heard this story, took pity on me and presented me with a puzzle called “Dogmania”. “Dogmania” was hell, but I was beginning to make a little progress on the border when I left the room to talk to my mother on the phone. When I returned, Maggie was quietly munching on several pieces from “Dogmania”.

After a particularly gut-wrenching day at work last week the Boy purchased me two more puzzles and I’m happy to say that I HAVEN’T LOST MY TOUCH, also–they are just as addicting as they were years ago.

The puzzle eater hiding under pillows.

Recent impulse buy: “Half Baked”. It’s been so long since I last watched it I couldn’t remember if it was any good.

Verdict: no, not particularly good.

Although Dave Chapelle was pretty funny as “Sir Smokes A Lot”: “Bitch! You know what I want! Hahahahaha! I wanna talk to Samson! Fly me to the moon like that bitch Alice Kramden! ‘Cause it’s hard being black and gifted! Sometimes I wanna throw it all down and get lifted!”

Happy Friday!

Lately instead of just going to a store and purchasing something (the “normal” way) I’m making a list of things to consider (items on current list: decent printer, laminator) on the whiteboard next to my computer desk, researching them obsessively online to find the best deal, and then buying them.

This is time consuming, but ultimately fulfilling. My coat rack dreams were recently fulfilled when I found a primary color coat rack. The Boy was not nearly as excited as I wanted him to be.

“Look!” I squealed. “Primary colors! And we can decorate it with stickers!” (what am I, eight?)

“Uh huh.”

Well never mind him. He’s not going to find joy in my laminator purchase either, but I WILL! Just think of the possibilities! I’m gonna laminate everything! I also want to get a smallish Moleskine pad to keep in my purse for those times that I’m driving in the car and I come up with a brilliant idea for a painting/greeting card/etc. and I need to scribble it down fast before I forget. Or KEXP plays something fabulous that I want to remember later on (that happens a lot, love you KEXP).

Yesterday on the way home from work I was suddenly struck with the most horrendous menstrual cramps imaginable about 10 minutes from home. I managed to drive home, hobble into the house–completely hunched over, and make my way through the jumping, scrabbling animals (who are always incredibly happy to see Mommy). I crammed some tylenol into my maw and managed to make it to the bed, where I lay down and waited for the pain to subside and turned on the heating pad and started sobbing.

As tears rolled down my face and I threw the tennis ball to Maggie and fended off Bear Cub’s teeth, I reflected on how much it sucks, I mean seriously sucks, to be at the mercy of female hormones sometimes.

The good news is, it’s FRIDAY! And I have a fresh BUST magazine to read! And…my fingernails are sparkly! See, there’s always a bright side to everything.

Recently me and my birthday gift certificates went to Michaels for a few things. I had been eying their fake Christmas wreaths for years, unable to justify purchasing one, but this year I said SCREW IT, LET’S DO IT.

All of the Christmas stuff was 60% off, how could I resist?

But you know, it just wasn’t tacky enough.

So I bought some glittery grape and leaf clusters to add to it. Michaels has an entire aisle of glittery grape/leaf clusters, in every conceivable color, and I spent a looooooong time making decisions. Me and the other elderly women who were shopping at Michaels at 10 o’clock in the morning.

It also seemed important that I add butterflies to the wreath.

The wreath came with this warning. I was planning on nailing the wreath to our front door over that awful “no smoking” sign that I can’t remove, but haven’t gotten around to it yet.

Voila! The finished wreath! Pretty, pretty?

I explained to the saleswoman that I had been wanting to stockpile glittery Christmas crap for years, but this was the first time I had actually done it.

“Well, you might be sorry…” she warned me, indicating the glitter already scattered all over the counter.

“No, I won’t be sorry,” I smiled. “My husband might.”

To know me is to tolerate my glitter, and he’s tolerating the glitter just fine, because we are humping like rabbits. I entered my period cycles into a computer program that tells me the best time to conceive girl children, and BLAMMO! I’m taking that program seriously,yo. YES TO GIRL CHILDREN.

I met with an OB yesterday and she’s fabulous and young and looks like Lucy Liu and she prescribed Ambien for my rotten morning insomnia. When I woke up this morning at 12:40 I took one and then I slept in until 5! That’s an improvement!

Sigh.