My bike frame, hanging from a tree yesterday morning so the Boy could spray paint it.

Oooooh.

I have to wait two more days for him to apply the second coat of yellow paint, and that’s when I’ll throw on the glitter. Then a few coats of gloss varnish, and voila! THE BIKE OF MY DREAMS.

He also painted the rims yesterday.

We both agree that the pink rims make the bike “pop”.

I wasn’t sure if the sun would mess up the drying process, but he told me that it helps “cure” the paint. Whatever’s clever.Trevor.

The Boy took some “nature” photos with my camera yesterday.

Arf, arf!

Recently I decided to give up on the idea of receiving “I Like You: Hospitality Under the Influence” as a gift and bought it for myself.

I love the “munchies” page. “Crisco mixed with sugar“…ah ha ha.

I also ordered “The Book of Liz“. Why not? I love the Sedaris clan. I like how it says “by the talent family” on the cover. That’s a nice touch. I haven’t had a chance to read it yet–I’m reading “Monkeewrench” and “Out at the movies: A history of gay cinema” right now. Did you know that “Harold and Maude”, my favorite movie of all time, was originally intended by the screenwriter to be a film about gays? But the screenwriter changed it, so that it would be “accepted” by a wider audience? I didn’t, and I’ve been obsessed with that movie for over a decade.

Yesterday I went to Michaels for some more varnish for the bike (paintbrushes and a pound sack of rhinestones also wound up in my basket–well, you never know). I also wanted to pick up some more glitter for the bike, and was depressed to discover the once massive glitter section has now dwindled down to two small areas–glitter “glue” in the children’s craft aisle (glitter glue sucks), and horrible “Martha Stewart” glitter in the scrapbooking section, which has now spread to four aisles, like herpes.

“What happened to all of the glitter?” I whined to the apathetic girl at the cash register.

She didn’t seem to know, or care, and either did the old lady in line behind me, who shrugged and said, “What’s wrong with Martha Stewart glitter?”

Look, lady, everything is wrong with Martha Stewart glitter, but I am attempting not to yell at strangers in my old age, especially during the daytime. Sigh.

In other news, someone is interested in buying a painting from me on Etsy! And possibly commissioning a duplicate of the same painting! Woot! Those “self portraits with grapes” seem to be popular. Who knew?

My mother thinks I should call around to “Cost Plus” and “Bed Bath and Beyond” and find out how they get their prints, and offer some of my prints to sell. “Your art is better than the crap they sell,” she sniffed. I don’t know how that works. I suppose I could actually read the book I bought a year ago, “How to Profit from the Art Print Market“, for clues.

We went to the Seattle Gay Pride Parade yesterday. I hadn’t been to Pride since Kissy and I went, another lifetime ago, and since that was Boise Pride it was a sad display indeed, but Seattleites know how to turn that shit out! I took 370 pictures, which is nuts, but since I am not a “good” photographer I have to take a LOT of photos and hope for the best. I may have to at least figure out the Manual function on my poor old Canon A610 before Burning Man, where I plan on giving it a fond farewell.

This vision was the first wig I saw when we arrived. “Oh thank God, a wig!” I cried. “You’ll be seeing a few hundred wigs today,” he promised me, and then agreed to pose for a photo. I told him to be “flamboyant”.

Well, my dream for yesterday was to meet at least one Sister of Perpetual Indulgence, and thank you, Sister Mary Tyler Moregasm, you are a sweetie.

Thank God I finally had an “appropriate” place to wear those rainbow sunglasses! I stood on one of those flower pots for 2 hours straight, not moving, to take pictures. Dedication. Insanity. Love.

I wanted to get down to meet the guy in the wedding dress, but I held my ground…

…until these two came walking towards us. I hopped down and shoved the camera into the Boy’s hand. They told me their names were “Poly” and “Ester”, and they loved my vintage polyester dress. “They don’t make shit like this anymore,” one of them muttered.

Happy day, happy day, surrounded by happy gays!

I finally stepped down from my post to have a ciggie and this guy appeared, so I complimented him on his purple Utilikilt. He told me a friend had dyed it for him, apparently Utilikilts don’t come in purple! “I want a glitter Utilikilt!” I told him. He seemed to like that idea.

Look, it’s Perez! (not really)

I’m lovin’ this plastic outfit.

Adorable.

I heart Seattle too, little guy.

Everyone standing around us was saying, “What in the hell is that?” but someone helpfully pointed out on Flickr that it is the “Flying Spaghetti Monster”, and even offered a link. Thanks!

Cuuuute.

Good Times!

Corinne was feeling much better yesterday. The Boy, unfortunately, was developing a cold, but he stuck it out so his wifey could enjoy herself. That’s love!

Do Ass!

This girl was handing out candy buttons.

I snagged some. They reminded me of going to Knotts Berry Farm as a little kid.

That looks fun. “I want to be in the parade!” I whined to Corinne.

Art Deco tattoo! Sweet!

I was so happy on the bus ride home. Glowing, really. Like Kathy Griffin says, being around gays is like a shot of adrenaline.

I’m glad I got to enjoy the day with my favorite peeps.

There are more pictures on Flickr, and there are WAY more pictures on my laptop (which emitted a horrible humming noise last night as I was downloading the photos–well, at least it didn’t explode). What a fabulous day! What an inspiring turnout! What a great city!

Now I am all recharged for Burning Man inspiration. Today I am making a trip to Michaels for a few things, and the Boy, sick, has promised to nevertheless put at least one coat of fluorescent yellow paint on my now primed bike. YES.

Yesterday, I picked up the Broad.

Her bedroom.

I like to visit my paintings after they’ve left my home, if at all possible.This was her birthday gift from me last year, based on this photo of us.

Look, there’s the Francesca painting! I’ll take it back eventually. She doesn’t really like it, but I lent it to her to spruce up the white walls. I’m an art terrorist! And a wig terrorist! And a glitter terrorist! It’s the best way to be, really.

Corinne’s purple glitter bike, chillin’ in the living room…

…next to her mostly abandoned Hero Hoop. I need to visit a hardware store to purchase more hoop connectors so I can make Corinne a lighter hoop for Burning Man. That hoop is heavy as shit, and hurts my hipbones (which, now that I am smoking again, are protruding).

Corinne was grumpy and tired and on her period but it was a beautiful day so I forced her to go to a new park with me…

…and the girls, of course!

It’s kind of a weird-looking park.

Maggie didn’t mind.

My neon glitter nail polish is sexy.

We sat in the shade and read “The Stranger” until a white trashy mullet guy showed up in a truck, sat out in the parking lot and smoked cigarettes and sketched us out (I had just removed my tank top and changed into my rainbow bikini–OF COURSE) so we left.

I love sunny days.

I also love a worn-out, happy Maggie.

Hell, I even love a cranky best friend.

I’m not letting Molly swim until her incision is completely healed. I’m being responsible!

On the way home we stopped at Dairy Queen and ordered small, butterscotch sundaes. We both decided recently that we are “over” Oreo Blizzards. Well hell, it only took a year.

But WHO CARES ABOUT THE PARK TRIP?

WE WENT TO GAY PRIDE TODAY!

I have 370 pictures to sift through tonight. I am not kidding.

Full report tomorrow. I love the gays.

Yesterday I went to the fabric store. I only needed one thing–elastic for the waistband on the silver lame raver pants I am making the Boy. The pattern called for a zipper, but I chose to ignore that. Who follows pattern instructions anyway?

Unfortunately (fortunately?), I got a little distracted.

Iron-on reflective ribbon? Why not?

75% off trims? Hells yes! I had been eying this trim for ages anyway, unable to justify spending money on it. Sale price = problem solved.

Sequin trim? I always have a need for sequin trim in my life. A couple of old ladies standing behind me in line at the cash register tittered at my purchases, and asked what I was going to do with them. “I don’t know!” I replied cheerfully.

They can hang out in my Fabulous Box ‘o’ Trims for now. The Boy told me last night when I was excitedly explaining the joy of trims that are 75% off that “trim” has some sort of sexual slang meaning. Well, he would know, wouldn’t he?

The trims were right next to the fake fur display, and normally I can control myself, but I couldn’t resist…

THIS! Fluorescent orange minkie! Yyyyeaaaaaahhhh!!!

Slobber slobber, drool drool.

I tried to explain to the skinny teenage girl working at the cutting counter that you have to rip fur, not cut it, or it will shed all over the place, but she couldn’t rip it with her scrawny emo arms and I didn’t want to do it for her (already I was telling her how to convert feet to yards for another customer and she seemed embarrassed). She confessed to me that she makes “costumes” but refused to elaborate when pressed. I told her about “Distinctive Fabric“, which I recently discovered and am 100% obsessed with. Hello my name is Liz and I’m a Fabric Junkie.

And then I noticed this thread as I was walking up to the cash register. Shit. Sigh. Well, I’m all about the Neon this summer, so it’s cool.

I got so distracted with the orange fur and the cheap trims and blabbing to the teenage girl about sewing that I got all the way out to the car, where the girls were waiting patiently, and remembered that I forgot the elastic! Well, at least I didn’t get all the way home. That would have sucked.

The Boy’s pants are almost complete. The silver liquid lame shining in the sunlight was hypnotizing me yesterday.

Ooooh, ahhhhh. He tried them on when he got home from work and I sneakily videotaped him, which I’ll post later (I warned him this time!).

He’s working hard on my bike. Everything has to be stripped, primed, painted and then coated, so this is an ongoing project. I painted my toenails fluorescent yellow last night to get pumped for having a fluorescent yellow bike, and it worked! I AM PUMPED!

Dear Lord, why am I up so early? I mean seriously, waking up at 4:30 is ridiculous. The Broad and I are supposed to hang out today–watch “Wigstock” for the billionth time to get excited for Burning Man, take the girls to a dog park (I’m afraid to go by myself–I’m passive and blonde and I don’t want to get raped and/or murdered). I might have to take a nappy before all that goes down. Fucking insomnia.

Kathy Griffin – My Life on the D List – Episode 5×03 – Part 4/5

“We need a Gay Miracle. We need a Giracle.”

I bought the Boy these Jimi Hendrix board shorts from eBay, super cheap. They are awesome but a smidgen too big around the waist–easily remedied with the sewing machine.

I love that hat. We watched “You’re Gonna Miss Me” last night (again) about the lead singer of the 13th Floor Elevators and his sad life. I didn’t remember the film being so depressing–I nearly cried at the ending–when Roky sings for his therapist and brother, and I had to hop on Youtube and watch “French and Saunders” so I wouldn’t have his voice haunting me all night. Great documentary, and cautionary tale–schizophrenia + mass quantities of LSD = Bad Idea.

Molly has made a complete recovery and now she’s resumed her normal hobby of chewing on Maggie. This pisses Maggie off so she starts chewing on whatever is handy–in this morning’s case, her (unused) poop sacks–NOT COOL. They “broke” me already today and I gave them peanut butter filled Kongs to keep them busy while I type out this blather.

Today’s goal is to hit up the library to see if they have some funny memoirs–Chelsea Handler’s, plus who ever else pops out at me, although David Sedaris has set the bar incredibly high and now I have to compare every memoir to his and well, it’s tough! The Boy requested that I get him “Neuromancer“. I’ve never read it. Currently I’m reading “Monkeewrench“, recommended by my mother. It’s holding my attention.

Today’s other goal is to exercise the Beasts outside because what is this? Mr. Sun is out again? HALLELUJAH!