volunteering to count votes was a thankless job. i felt like a tally ho.

i woke up in a crap mood this morning so i did what any sam eagle american would do: i went shopping. it was only thrifting but it was oh, so nice to get out of the house for a while. i spend entirely too much time hanging out with four legged beasts. the large soggy pile of dog crap on the carpet when i came home only served to remind me how much needed a fleeting break from this mammalian madness was. yes dogpants. i'm looking at you. 

thirty dollars worth of clothes:

i needed tee shirts. in keeping with tradition i attempted to find the most ridiculous ones that i could.

so excited about this:

oh, i dyed my hair orange, apparently. sigh.

every time i go to the gynosaurus i get "girl, you'll be a woman...soon" in my head

town wide yard sale (this is what people do in the rural suburbs, apparently) would have resulted in unabashed glee if we were scouting for child paraphernalia...those two words together kinda creep me out. we found a few things and brought sully, the hyperactive and adorably dimwitted bratwurst with us:

 i got assorted odds and ends:

bracelet

tray. no idea what i'll use it for but it was absolutely imperative that i have it.

ack! decorative balls i always swore six ways to steve guttenberg that i would never ever buy. *snicker* balls.

i got these amazingly awesome 1970s paint by numbers at an antique store two weekends ago:

annnnnnnnnnd...later today was....consignment store madness!!!!

snake necklace!

rad bag. true? true.

ring (shot taken on the paint splattered ladder currently in our den that i was using to hang curtains).

published in 1940. AMAZING.

poopy pic but: hair clips

i ended my day taking pictures in a cremation cemetery. obviously.

i have more on my mind than i would particularly enjoy digging into right now. a faith kindle, somewhat brought about by the amazon electronic has been weighing on me among scores of other issues. another day.

my traumatized nyc friend invited me to spend august in buroughs.

i woke up in a good mood this morning. this immediately became cause for concern. don't get me wrong-it's not like i was disney princessing it up, tra la la-ing as woodland creatures cautiously emerged from the underbrush and subsequently commenced frolicking (stay the f away from me deer-it's tick season). nor do i generally arise with the intonation of ben stein and the outlook of daria...well okay, the second part may be true but i also think words like bananas are funny and am drawn to sparkly things so there are definite fundamental differences.

due to a certain anniversary of a monumentally bad decision i generally wallow in self pity this weekend. introspection generally becomes usurped and hazed with alcohol though and a proverbial shit show tends to blow into town like a snake oil alchemist. in retrospect, it seems a tad irresponsible to celebrate surviving a near death experience with becoming blacked out doused and sloppy drunk. 

i don't really feel the need nor particularly want to recount the details of that day. generally i tend to wonder "what if?" about old relationships this time of year. not wishing we were back together (NO, DEFINITELY NOT); just wondering what would had happened had circumstances and timing not been what they were. counter-productive, i know.

duh

watching my cat swat at the air and try to figure out the logistics of attacking the ceiling fan. there's a parallel in there somewhere.

the grizzly rummaging through her campsite sewing kit was totally thread bear

happy berfday to me(5/24):

 

and i wonder why i keep getting carded although i'm but two short and rapidly fleeting years away from being a ken olin abc drama. they say that time flies the older that one becomes and as much as i hate to give reluctant kudos to the smug and pretentious and hazily blurred chalk smeared "they" i have to admit that it's true. life doesn't flash before your eyes as you die, as cliched and melodramatically cinematic as it sounds. it flash fries flambes as you blink and fades before your eyes can completely focus. 

taking only one course over the summer and being unemployed equates to perpetual tedium. the night before the alleged rapture was to take place i decided to read the first of the left behind series as a sarcastic smirk. per usual, the joke was on me because despite the fire and brimstone, sub par writing, horrific violence, obvious racial prejudice, very subtle anti-abortion references, classism, and totally transparent christian one sided blinders aside, i did kinda want to see what happened. but really? did the african american characters have to talk like bumbling maids in a mae west movie? so i read all 12 400-450 page books in a week. thank god (was that inappropriate?) for speed reading. i was impressed by the amount of research into aircraft, geography, history and biblical passages that must have been needed to pen such an unfortunately judgmental tale. and thanks (and no thanks), catholic high school for helping me get the insider jokes. i tempered this unexpected and highly skeptical god kick with preacher jay bakker's book fall to grace.

this is simply a duel spire of a quasi-book review, not a religious commentary because i didn't read either for religious reasons. just curiosity.

gambling at the sushi joint=keno sake

i'm quitting smoking (again) so here's a bunch of pictures of recently purchased stuffs while i attempt not to kill myself or others...i'm on the patch and it's not the pirate kind. ahoy.

 i didn't buy this but it cracked me up.

salt and pepper shakers FTW. note the peeing dog and ma and pa outhouses. god, i love these things.

i collect miniature dogs....our next door neighbor when i was growing up got me started... my favorite here is the basset hound. HINT bf HINT.

 i needed it. loooove our kitchen table.

heart these glasses.

for outside. the poo hanging out of his bum isn't entirely clear here. mwahahahaha.

if god is your co-pilot then your flight has been delayed

blogging was ever so much user-friendly when it was one-stop typing at the now hopelessly uncool and permanently abandoned myspace. the site is the internet equivalent of a friend one outgrows over the summer. i logged on to ye olde ms a short while ago-it's a digital time capsule of my angst filled rants and drunken misadventures...i'll be becoming increasingly nostalgic this week as my 29th berfday happens. i'm not ready for 30. no. not at all. GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.

antique store in northboro finds:

fertility goddess? tribal totem?

nope! nutcracker! bwahahahahaha

salt and pepper shakers

vintage postcard

with writing-1943

  cross bf bought me-with a skull and crossbones?! WIN.

been on a crappy fiction kick lately...j. joyce is rolling over in his proverbial grave:

we ran into our former neighbor today...she quite innocently proclaimed that i looked like i belong in toronto or a similar metropolitan area... the settling in nearly rural suburbia was definitely not on my original list of hoped for life accomplishments...best laid plans. sigh. 

NEW NOSE PIERCING!