The Musée du Louvre Would Envy

Thursday, September 10, 2009

I realized that my life was seriously lacking in unicorn art yesterday. I was inspired by this picture, on this lame blog about sports, when I decided how amazing it would be to actually own a piece of actual unicorn art.

That's right.

I LOVED unicorns when I was younger.

I fondly remember gluing carrots to the top of My Little Ponies heads..

Now that I'm an adult and free to waste my money on things like hookers and blow, I figured I needed to start investing in something more lasting....

So I picked art. (Mutual funds are for p*ssies!)

As I started my adventure I came across the beautiful..

The tiny...

The creepy...

When finally I came across a dolphin and a unicorn locked in a never ending battle of mortal war .. with a rainbow.

My life is now complete.

Guerrilla Gardening

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

If you must know, I love to garden. That's right. I'm not ashamed to say it. You can usually find me with a mass of tangled hair piled on top of my head, mud splashed on my legs, and sweat dripping down my back.

Heaven, no?

Well to me... it is.

Lately I've been reading about guerrilla gardening.

Guerrilla gardening is political gardening, a form of direct action, primarily practiced by environmentalists. It is related to land rights, land reform, and permaculture. Activists take over an abandoned piece of land which they do not own to grow crops or plants.

Guerrilla gardeners believe in re-considering land ownership in order to reclaim land from perceived neglect or misuse and assign a new purpose to it. (This is according to Wikipedia, that means it's true right?)

Either way I love the idea of taking something ugly and making it beautiful. I've started scouting my city for a place I can make this a reality.

When I do this I promise to post before and after pictures. You know before my arrest and after my trial.

People in the South usually defend their property with very large firearms, so I'm really going to have to think this through.

Check out Guerrilla Gardening for yourself.

Because I love the idea of you and I being partners in crime.

Culture, Because You Need It

Monday, August 10, 2009

I love Sarah Maple. I first learned of her exsitence while listening to Radio 4 years ago.

She reminds of an Islamic Frida Kahlo, if you will.

Check out her walk through Brighton in a burka.

My Magical Day

Thursday, November 20, 2008

I just petted a goat.

I know you're thinking that maybe I'm typing this via cell phone while wearing a pair of wellies and standing knee deep in mud. Or perhaps you are thinking that I'm visiting a petting zoo, or walking in a lush green field.

Well you're wrong, and a little stupid.

I'm sitting in my office.

Let's go back a good five minutes and I shall tell you a story of adventure and awe.

It all begin with the light click of an animal's hooves outside my office window. My curiosity aroused, I peeked through my dusty blinds.

And there he was.

A goat.

So outside I went and the rest you know.

I liked his ears and teeth the best. Both were long and floppy. I asked his owner if he had a name, but his lack of English and my horrible Spanish got us no where but awkward silence.

As I waved goodbye to the goat, I knew that something amazing had just happened.

I was left with a light hearted feeling and a special memory of this day.

Oh and I also left with smelling of goat poo.

Hola!

Wednesday, November 05, 2008

I work next door to a Pediatric Dentist. I think he only accepts pesos, because his entire clientele is Spanish speaking.

Several times a day, teary-eyed children will wander into our office and a confused Parent will point to their teeth. I usually just point next door, but sometimes I wave my arms wildly around in circles to confuse them before I point. Fun times.

For my last job I really tried to learn Spanish. And when I say tried, I mean I gave a University a 100 bucks and showed up to class a total of three times. Everything else was taught by a former co-worker, the best cleaning lady this side of the Rio Grande.

She taught me words like "mop" and "pine sol", I picked up several other words she used when cleaning out the bathroom... (All dirty and all in Spanish of course.)

Today I put some of these words to use.

I was walking to the UPS store when I saw two little Mexican girls playing in the cigarette ash tray. (Okay it's really a potted plant minus the plant, classy no?)

Sine there were no adults around, I thought it my place to educate them about the dangers of playing with used cigarettes.

"Disgusting." I said in Spanish.

The little girls looked in my direction.

I followed it with a "disgusting, mop, pine sol"... and figured they were about three and four, and wouldn't really understand what I was saying, just the tone I was saying it in.

This seem to work as they quickly removed their hands from the ash tray.

I kept walking, but glanced back after hearing chatter.

They were following me, following me and smiling.

I panicked. "No! Pine sol, mop, disgusting!" I kept saying in Spanish and pointing to the ash tray, believing this would make them go back.

I walked in their direction to stop them, when suddenly one of the girls holds up her arms as if wanting me to hold her...

So holding one in my arms and the hand of another, I make my way inside the Dentist to discover a rather large Mexican lady surrounded by four other children. I try to explain to her that they were following me, but to no avail. There was lots of smiling and laughing so everything worked out, there's only one problem now...

I want a Mexican baby.

For The Love Of God Please Help Me

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Since becoming a vegan a couple of months ago, I can't help feeling like an outcast from society.

No longer able to visit my local McDonald's, I'm starting to lose shape to my high fructose corn syrup thighs, making me look very un-American.

In fact I'm pretty sure I'm on a terrorist list from the amount of jars of hummus and bottles of tahini I've been buying. Could be the kaffiyeh I've started sporting, or the copies of the Koran I've been passing out. But whose to say?

Either way my eloquent and beautiful Husband posed a very good question about Thanksgiving.

"What the hell are you going to eat?"

So I've started looking for mold in the shape of a turkey. Something I can stuff hummus into and pour tahini sauce over.

Since several of you classy bloggers post pictures of your meals, I was wondering if you could offer up any better suggestions?

Thanks for your time and effort.

P.S. The first person to comment "turkey" gets a swift kick to the groin.

My Day, So Far

Monday, June 09, 2008

I try not to blog about my job.

I work for a non-profit organization, so I'm sure they are constantly looking for ways to fire me to save money.

And certainly my blog would be an excellent source of firingness.

But today is special, so today you hear about my job.

You're welcome.

The organization I work for has agreed to "host" a sixteen year old high school student through the summer as a part of something called the "Jump Program"...

And by hosting I mean give free sodas and long-distant calls.

Because that's all she did today.

At first I couldn't help but have a soft spot in my heart for this young pimply girl with pink hair and earrings the size of my stabler.

I thought I could mold her into something, give her a real future.

Maybe in a few years she would thank me in her commencement speech as she graduates from an ivy league school, or perhaps name her first born after me.

Something little you know...

But after spending the longest 15 minutes of my life with her, I realized those dreams will never come to pass.

My favorite moment of the day came when she interrupted me in mid-sentence with a request to call her boyfriend. I told her to go ahead, thinking it was best to let her get it out of her system.

"This phone won't let me dial nothin..."

I took the phone out of her hand and started dialing, it worked perfectly.

"Um, there's nothing wrong with the phone, are you trying to dial long distance?"

"Yeah Vernon lives in North Dakota."

I gave her my pass code to dial long distance, and asked her if her boyfriend moved out of state at the end of the school year.

"Huh? No we met on the Internet."

At this point I'm praying Vernon is 16 and not 52, and the conversation has nothing to do with them arranging a time for them to meet when her parents aren't home.

I prayed a lot.

There's little more to tell, other than she drank 4 1/2 of my coke zeros and asked me zero questions about the job I was teaching her.

She's either incredibly stupid, or way more intelligent than myself.

Let's pretend it's the first one.