The Best Way to Start the Day

Thanks for the birthday wishes, everyone. Here's my day so far.

5:30 am Woke up at work
5:45 am Got ready for work...at work
6:20 am Got the paper. Turned off the porch lights. Started the dishwasher.
6:30 am Drank morning tea. Recalled dreams. Contemplated future meals.
7:00 am Faced the breakfast crowd--a lively group from whom I thankfully managed to keep The Big Secret.
8:30 am Birthday wishes from Wonderboss. Officially off work.
8:45 am Breakfast destination suggested by me, chosen by LaFalda and phoned in to the Rocket household.
9:00 am Accidental birthday wishes from random strangers at neighboring tables.
9:10 am Intentional birthday wishes from a sassy waitress.
9:15 am Two plus hours of giant cinnamon rolls (though I have to say I've seen bigger), two and three egg omelette controversies, ketchup floods, and the best darn conversation in the West. (For proof, just check out LaFalda's quote book--something about cysts tasting better than you'd think and young looking 60 year olds being mighty expensive).


(L to R: LaFalda, Rocket and P.)

This picture looks like poo. I mean the picture quality, not the subjects, of course. You can click on it to make it look better. Really, how many things can you say that about? I wish you could do that with mirrors sometimes. Notice the giant griz paw/claw behind LaFalda's head? In Missoula, that equals classy joint. You may recognize the guy on the right from the Dating Game. Or you may not, and that would probably make him happy.

My Life on the D.L.

...is back on the D.L..

The Challenge

This post is in response to a Friday night challenge from my friend Rocket. These faces belong to some people we know, but the names have been withheld to protect my innocence.

Rocket, I hope you're satisfied...I hope you got my back if any of these people come to hunt me down.



This here, as you can see, is The Ultimate Challenge. I must say, I'm rather pleased with the results. Can you tell who it is?



This could turn out to be quite a game! I think I just might use The Portrait Illustration Maker to make a challenge face every week. Then you all can guess who it's supposed to be. Ooh, thanks, Rocket!

Blessed

Thanks for being so supportive on the whole age-assault thing, everyone. I'm getting along just fine without my striped shirt and vagabond cyclist. In my haste to invite you all to my pity party, I forgot to mention some really good things about that morning. The first thing is that my bird is back!!! He's been trying to tease me by having his friends perch in his spot, and then he'll either be hiding behind them or fly up at the last minute for a quick 'hello'. People driving by must think I'm nutty for beaming so widely at 8:30ish am. I'll try to hold off on the talking for now.

The second good thing that morning--really awesome, special, sweet thing--was that, as I was getting ready to leave work, one of our guests approached my boss and I with a bundle in hand. She's Mexican, I believe, and doesn't speak very much English. When she got close, she smiled and opened her arms to reveal two ponchos that she had crocheted while sitting in her son's hospital room. So beautiful (the thought, the gift AND her)! I am still blown away. Here she is, in the middle of nowhere, under some of the worst circumstances possible, and she is actively seeking to bless us. It's truly humbling. I think of all the times that I say to myself, "Oh, I should do such and such for so and so" and I let it go at that. I'm either too "tired", or "busy", or "broke", or "shy" or afraid it won't be good enough, or won't be well received. I hate it! Good intentions be damned! I mean that quite literally. I want to live and love and not look back!

Okay, soapbox dismounted. More from me later...

Happy Birthday, Twin (LaFalda)!!

This should make you feel young. I look like your proud mama!

P.S. I love you, too!!!

I Scream, You Scream

Do you like my volunteer badge? It's not half as cool as Lance's nerd badge.

It's high time for a new post. There hasn't been much to write about, but I guess that never stopped me before. Yesterday was fairly eventful (by my standards). Every third Tuesday of the month (starting yesterday), the new(ish) ice cream place in town is donating 30% of proceeds between 4 and 7 to the house where I work. The owners visited the house, fell in love with it and the work we do, and scheduled fundraisers for the rest of the year. Hot Dog! So anyway, my boss, our on-call girl, 2 volunteers, a secretary, a board member, a doctor and I showed up for the event. I'm really bad at those kinds of things (ice cream socializing), but it was nice to get to know "the team" better since we don't see each other much...Especially our newer on-call girl. She's a dollie. But then again, I think all Virginians are dollies. Something about the non-Southern ("country") way they say y'all--especially when trying not to. Our on-call girl did face painting (on herself, my boss, and one kid) and I handed out stickers (to myself and two kids). The helium balloons were, of course, a team effort. (I did not inhale). On one occasion, I was called upon to chase down some runaway balloons and I saw Fella's roommate who pretended not to see me (okay maybe it was genuine, but I couldn't blame him if it weren't). So anyway, big fun had by few. Next time maybe I'll see the rest of you there. Y'all can have your faces painted and if you're real nice-like, I'll let you pick out your own sticker.

I told you there wasn't much happening. Oh, BUT WAIT! Tell me if this is not the most brutal story you've heard today. I was walking home from work yesterday morning and I came to a stoplight. I was just standing there waiting for it to change colors when I hear this sultry sounding, "Hey. Were you the girl in the striped shirt last night?". I looked over to see this slightly vagabondish fellow on a bike with his eyebrows raised in my direction. As soon as I turned to him, the eyebrows lowered into more of a furrow and he said, "Oh. You're too old." Then there was a "Well...no...???...hmm..." while he sat there reevaluating me and his words. So yeah, not exactly the words a girl likes to hear when she's on the verge of putting another year under her already tight belt. The worst part is that he had to be at least 45. Shizzouch. That's what I say.

Rainy Day View

My apologies for the rain, everyone. It's all my fault. I jinxed it the other day when I was crossing the H bridge and thinking "Summer is officially here and with it the bug battered pucker I deserve for wearing lipgloss near water at dusk".

It used to be (and by "used to be" I mean 3 days ago) that every morning when walking home from work, I would come to a certain point on the H bridge and a chubby little bird would be sitting there waiting for me. As soon as I got near, he would fly off, but he would always wait until I saw him first. I recently began to take greater notice of him. I decided I would keep a bread crumb in my pocket so we could be friends. He doesn't come anymore. I guess he preferred distance to friendship and a passing glance to a linty pocket crumb.

Story of my life.

Hip Additions

I'm glad to see you're all as crazy for the Portrait Illustration Maker as I am. Welcome these new additions to our hip and happy family.



Reading clockwise, we have: Rocket, the new kid on the blog--well, my blog anyway, my sleepy friend Pal, who is not an official blog member (YET!), but pops in on Knit 'N Play from time to time, Japanijustin The Artist and frequent commenter and Boy, who should be making his first appearance on freelance poedry any day now. Hooray!

Incidentally, I am only responsible for the Rocket and Pal creations. Boy and Justin made their own, which I stole. Rocket, I'm just going off of your profile picture and my regrettably limited knowledge of you. Pal, we'll talk later. That's supposed to be bedhair, not windmill hair. Don't ask me why you're waking up in Holland.

Happy Birthday, Ken-Doll!

Twinkle Twinkle punk-rockstar
Wonder how the heck you are
Up above my world so high
It's a wonder I don't cry

Twinkle Twinkle punk-rockstar
Happy Birthday from afar

Happy Birthday, lost and found Ken-Doll!

From: Your dorky friend in the West who is extremely sorry for the incredibly poor likeness she made of you while working and wishing that you were there to toast cocoa dreams and melt magic candy canes with her. Love ya. Miss ya.

One Hip Family

Have you ever wondered what we would look like as Japanimation characters? I know I have.




Well, enter the Portrait Illustration Maker. It's the coolest thing since mug shots and infinitely hipper than the National Geographic Channel's Face Generator*. (It is Asian, afterall). It's worth it just to scroll over the images and read the cutely distorted English (for instance, the ever popular "baldness father" and "splashes the top primly" hairstyles). I think you may even be able to use the images as your cellphone background...but I wouldn't really know.


*Slightly more believable but not nearly as hip, I'm thinking of using this guy as my backup-plan-emergency-only-decoy-husband.

Mug Shots

Have you seen this man?




Is it just me or does he bear a striking to resemblance to Boy in his high-school years? Suspicious. Okay, I'll confess. It's my day off and I spent it finding more fun timewasters for all of you. This one is pretty cool. It creates police-like sketches by allowing you to select and alter various facial features. The tagline for the website is: "An online facility which helps you to remember somebody's face", but I'll let you be the judge. Bear witness to the following desparate criminals:

Fella (in training season), Fella (out of training season)
Tot the Folk Rocker, Rasta Tot and New Wave Tot
Señor Ed

My apologies to Fella and Tot. I can only imagine how you must feel about me right now. Something like this, perhaps? Well, don't blame me. I guess you guys just don't have the faces for criminal activity.

(Oh, and apparently this site is geared strictly toward committing male faces to "memory", which is why Tot and I are repeatedly shown in drag. I am not trying to make a statement about the inability of women to commit desperate crimes.)

Public Enema Number Two

Okay, first off, I apologize for that title. You can take it as a warning, since this post is only going to go downhill from there. Last night at work, one of our little old guests got really stopped up and sick. I was going to have to walk to the grocery store nearby to purchase said product and I was trying to figure out where the most prominent place to wear my badge would be so that the checkers would know it wasn't for me. I guess it's lucky I ended the tiny crush I had on that one checker...or rather, Boy ended it for me when he told me he once witnessed this checker chasing a cat with apparent intent to harm. I don't really like cats. I only liked this guy because he seemed like someone who never got angry. Anyway, I never ended up having to go to the store, thank goodness, but all night long it made me think about something...

Does it ever seem to anyone else like life is just deliberately cruel sometimes? I'm not talking tragedy here. I can understand how we learn and grow from life's hardships. I'm talking about random, senseless cruelty...like an old man with embarrassing bowel troubles needing to ask a young girl for help...or like the time when Twin and I were innocently sitting outside our building and an old professor-ly looking fellow came up to us and said, "They've got some nice antiques in that window", and proceeded to expose us to umm...his antique. I mean...Come on. What purpose do those things serve? It seems to me like they have no other design than to humiliate or degrade. I don't know. Maybe it's only that I can't see the whole picture. Maybe God wanted me to show that old man that I cared (I'm speaking about the first one--the stopped up one--of course). Maybe the policeman who responded to Twin and my frantic call about Professor Pervert just needed a good belly laugh. Maybe it's just that we live in a fallen world.

First Grade Legends

Can you find me? I'd offer a prize but I don't think it's too much of a challenge. Just look for the saddest, most frightened looking one. Can you find anyone else you know in there?

• #2 was my neighbor. He taught me to play baseball.
• #3 worked in the hospital kitchen with Twin, Fella, Tot and I.
• #4 never had a name. I just called him Wolf-Boy. Teachers used to make me sit next to him because they said I was a peacemaker.
• #5 made fun of me when I was learning to ride a bike. He said he learned to ride when he was 2...without training wheels.
• #8 was later reunited with me in high school. He claimed I liked him in first grade because I let him use my fat crayon.
• #10 liked to kiss girls. I think he was German.
• #13 signed my cast when I broke my arm tightroping the fence. I thought I was soo cool.
• #15 was my very first love. He called me an a**hole and I refused to eat for weeks. My mom was really worried.
• #16 had a swimming pool at her house. She used to vacation at beaches and bring back seashells for us. She told us to take our vitamins every day. One time we had a substitute teacher and I was too scared to ask to use the bathroom so I peed at my desk and they had to call my mom to pick me up.
• #18 just graduated with Tot. I heard he used to pee on his bathroom walls.

The Unveiling

I have been so inspired by the feedback I've received from my recent attempts to cheer up Blogworld that I have decided to open wide the doors to the secret funhouse of my mind. I want all of you, my nearest and dearest, to be the first to enter. There are a few things you should know before taking the plunge. (1) It is still, and will always be, in various stages of construction. Tread lightly upon those boards and don't look too deeply into those mirrors. (2) Funhouses can be frightening. I recommend bringing a friend or singing outloud. (3) Don't believe everything you see. Just try to find the humor in it with me.

Please direct all comments to ed. For any questions or concerns, see this guy, who once told me I should be a writer and that I am just the person to spread a little blogshine, or this guy, whose own funhouse (aka portfolio) inspired mine.
Thanks...and enjoy!

Ready, set, GO!

Re: Miss America Fan Mail

Justin: Imagine no longer.

Tot: Don't worry about the world catching a glimpse of these photos. Knit 'N Play's readership is as limited as the shelf life of these photos. Rest assured that they will be promptly removed once their cheering-up duties have been completed. I happen to know that you could do some serious damage in the payback department (M-U-L-L-E-T) and I am eager to steer clear of your bad list.

Miss Americas

Well, since I've been in a blog-slump, I thought I'd start up where I left off with my countdown to Tot's departure. No. I didn't run out of reasons to miss her after Day Two. I just preferred to spend the time making more reasons to miss her. So here goes...

Day Three (plus 22): We will miss...Beauty pageant parties complete with Dorito-eating contests and fights for the crown.


(L to R: Tot, Twin, #1 Sister et moi)

You know the expression "I've got money burning a hole in my pocket". Yeah, me neither. But I do have a certain Miss Universe recording burning a hole in my VCR. #1 Sister and I made a pact not to watch it without each other, which means we'll have to wait until the weekend. It's killing us...but not as much as the fact that Tot isn't here to make a real party of it.