I shut my eyes in order to see

In the second grade my elementary school class was given a project. We were instructed to pick a famous, influential person, and make a diorama and short summary of their life. The teacher even took us to the library to help us pick our person out! That's right kids, a true blue library.

Who did I pick at the ripe age of 8?

Abe Lincoln? Babe Ruth? Ben Franklin? Einstein?

Nah, I left all of those obvious picks to the un-creative little shits in my class.

I picked the artist Paul Gauguin. And after I figured out what the hell a diorama was I got to work.

Still to this day my all time favorite quote is from Paul, "I shut my eyes in order to see" -simple, but wow. I have always relied on my imagination so this quote rocks in my book.

I am sure it was loads of fun for my mom to help me find a painting this man did with out an excessive amount of native boobies showing, or writing about his life while omitting the part where the church was throwing his ass in prison, but he died before he got there from his drunken, impoverished, syphilitic lifestyle...

I must have picked him because:

-we have the same birthday

-he painted with fun colors

-I thought the booby paintings were funny

-he lived in Tahiti, and that is fun to say when you are 8

Either way, I am glad that I wasn't a complete run-of-the-mill little girl. I may have been the weird kid in class, but I sure as hell wasn't the smelly kid. You know who they were...

Needless to say, my Diorama kicked ass. It had construction paper palm trees, Mr.Gauguin himself, painting one of his non booby paintings. I even had some sea birds hanging from my cotton ball clouds.

Alas...my teacher Ms.Lynch? Gave me a B-.

B is for Bitch, or so I told myself that entire year. There is a special spot in hell for Ms. Lynch, and I was ready to pack her suitcase for her.

Even at 8 I knew that there was a reason she was a Ms. and not a Mrs. There wasn't a man in the world who would want to touch that broad with a 10 foot pole. I also figured she was not the caliber of woman Paul Gauguin would have wanted in one of his paintings. No booby pictures for you Ms. Lynch!

So here is to my imagination...may it last longer than my mind does!

Oh.My.Con.

197 days until the biggest 4 day party I generally partake in goes down.

That's right, I go to Dragon Con.

Usually we wander around with our paranormal crew. It is the one weekend that I take no responsibility for my wardrobe, what I eat, what I drink, or where I wander off to. It is amazingly spectacular. I generally like to stock up on Goodfellas cheese pizza and enough beer to sink a tiny ship. This year I kinda mixed it up a bit, as you can tell from a few messages I may have sent out!Oy! These messages and shenanigans prompted this Christmas gift:

Which was possibly the best Christmas gift ever!

The next step for planning this years trip...what or who do I want to be? I kinda want something ninja/catsuit-ish. (But I can't be too stealthy or Brett won't be able to keep up with my drunk little ass) Decisions decisions. Last Dcon I made a princess lolly costume. Which was quite efficient, tiny, and cute. Dcon occurs in September...in Georgia = ungodly hot and humid. So less is more when it comes to costuming!

Any ideas or suggestions for costumes for me or the big guy are welcome and appreciated! I can never seem to con Brett into playing dress up. Sigh.

32 rules of ghost hunting - Part I

ok ok ok so I stole the idea for this post from Zombieland.

Columbus (the main character) basically has a little scribble pad that he has listed the 32 rules needed to survive Zombieland. They consist of some common sense rules like wearing your seatbelt, the double tap, limber up, etc...

So I figured I would make a silly set of rules for ghost hunting. (and no I didn't come up with 32. yet.) Some of the same rules apply, they have an * marking them.

Rule #1: Check the area for clients.

99.9% of the time the client is much scarier than the ghost that is in their house. Be sure they aren't around during the investigation or someone might get hurt!

Rule #2: Watch your head.

Obviously if you are wandering or crawling around in a dark place you should be cautious. If for some reason a client sneaks into the hunt you had better watch for arms and legs coming at ya. Helmets may be a nice touch.

*Rule #3: Travel in groups.

Since when do you waltz into a joint you know may have some super creepy shit going on...Alone? Aside from the fact that this is what we do, it is still nice to have company while you sit and wait for the ghosties to come out and play. Besides, partners in crime always have stuff like extra flashlights, or batteries in case you are a doofus and forgot yours.

*Rule #4: When in doubt, get the hell out. (Or like the movie, know your way out)

There is nothing like a client mid banshee seance coming at you and you are wedged in between the couch cushions un-expecting. Not cool. Not cool at all.

Rule #5: Never hunt on an empty stomach.

Sitting in a pitch black room waiting for the slightest sight or noise of a spirit, and you hear a satanic death growl from the pits of hell and you may just wet your pants. Ironically empty tummies (or tummies full of mexican food) make the same. exact. noise. Just ask my buddy.

Rule #6: Check the closets.

A-for unexpected clients

B-that is where the hair pulling spirits like to hide, or so I have found to be true. Get those asshats outta there before you begin! Or you may be in for a real hair raising experience...

Rule #7: Look big or tall.

This may be a tough one to do, but I have found that the smaller you are-the more you get picked on. Take Brett for instance, in 2+ years of hunting he has never so much as been touched. Me? hair pulled-check, punched in the stomach-check, general poke/ tap or what not - check. (This does not include any injuries possible incurred from clients!)

Rule #8: Always carry a flashlight.

this goes along with Rule #2 Watch your head. You are in the dark, so watch your step! Who knows what you could trip over! Could be something you really don't want to be touching like:

can you say whatthecreepin creeper

is that?! Imagine getting dive bombed or tangled

up with one of these guys?!?!?! Flashlights....

The Angry Beavers

Please tell me that someone out there remembers, and loved, the Nickelodeon cartoon The Angry Beavers.

It came out in 1997 and ran for a few years. Basically it was a show about Norbert and Daggett Beaver- brother beavers who lived out on their own. Daggett was borderline "special" and Norbert was the brains of the bunch.

They ate oakmeal. How cool is that?!

If Brett and I were in this world of The Angry Beavers, I would totally be Norbert - the clever beaver, and Brett would be poor Daggett. Daggett Doofus Beaver. Why? Like I tell many of our friends, "Brett is the smartest dumb person I know". He has an amazing vocabulary, but he often uses his "big" words out of context. It's cute. Sometimes he comes up with some doozies,

Brett: "Do chickens have nipples?"

Me: "Um, no hun, they don't"

Brett: "Oh wait...little chicks, are fowl, not... ok ok I got it"

A recent favorite,

Me: " My cousin decided they are going to name their son Triston"

Brett: "Isn't that a cracker?"... pause... "No.. wait, Triscuts are crackers"

So you see, we are totally like Norbert and Daggett:

Daggett: ...I suffered an unexpected prolapse...Norbert: You mean relapse.Daggett: Work with me here.

I can totally hear Brett saying:

Daggett: Urethra! I found something!

-For those of you who are total spoot heads and don't know what any of this is about you can watch the opening clip here. (And please be cautious if you are trying to find any pictures or videos on your own and type in Angry Beaver in the search bar). You have been warned!

I would like to make it clear that yes 1997 was a little late for me to be watching cartoons... but my niece was 5 then and I watched it with her so LAY OFF!

The Emerald Isle

In less than a month Brett and I will be drinking a pint in the Southwest town of Kenmare, Ireland. I honestly am having a hard time waiting to pack my bags!

With the new house renovation, constant family drama, and friends twisting the knives they've stuck in my back, I am seriously going to have such a great time being in a different country!

I do, however, foresee Brett and I coming across a few obstacles during our adventures in Ireland.

I am going to call the obstacles "bloopers" because it will probably be some really funny shit.

Blooper #1: The rental car.

When we arrive at the Shannon airport after hours & hours of flying and layover time, we will pick up our rental car. The sweet ride we are getting hooked up with? a Nissan MICRA. The name screams tiny car. Notice the correlation between MICRA and MICROscopic?

So here is the deal,

This is Brett in our old, normal sized apartment:

notice how he is much larger than standard sized furniture (he makes the fridge look like a Coleman cooler!). He is 6'5''-6'7'' ish depending on his shoes, and an easy 285lbs.

Now, the "Micra" we will be picking up (literally) can be found here. Oh the joys of making your husband uncomfortable. Nevermind that he will be A-driving on the wrong side of the road, and B-operating a stick shift on the opposite side. It should be the most entertaining thing to watch!

Blooper #2: Navigating in the pocket size car

Not to knock on him, but Brett would get lost trying to get out of our driveway if he didn't have me around. I am not sure if that is because he knows what he knows, and our little town and the city of Atlanta is not something he is used to yet or what. But bless his heart he gets turned around super easy. And I am noticing as I try to map out various stops during our vacation that no place has a direct address! No street numbers, rarely a street name, just landmarks. Good thing we have no planes or trains to catch (until the end of the trip of course). I foresee us stopping and asking for directions. A lot. I will probably be doing the asking, I don't see Brett taking the car off and putting it back on too easily!

Blooper #3: My tolerance level for alcohol

I am not sure what happened over the span of a few short years... But, for some reason, my 21st birthday marked the death of my tolerance for booze. Shortly after my megadeathbirthday I could barely get a drink or two in before I was seriously buzzed. I switched to beer. That helped me none. With all of the pubs and pints we will be partaking in during our trip I foresee fun times. Fun Times. So, I guess Brett will be lugging me over one shoulder in Ireland, and our Nissan Micra over the other. I will probably look a little something like this:

photo and t-shirt courtesy of my Canadian husband.

Dr.Seuss to my rescue

Today I want to talk about Dr. Seuss.

Theodor Suess Geisel was an amazing, creative, genius.

During our honeymoon in St. Augustine FL Brett and I got to visit the "Imaginarium" - which was the first ever Dr. Seuss art gallery to open. It was fantastic and I can't wait to own an original.

I have never really done much research on Dr. Seuss, but I came across some awesome tidbits today, and some of his work from his early days in advertising. The picture I posted is from a gallery of some of his ads.

I was reading some quotes and a few stuck out to me. I have been on an anti friend campaign as of late, as my niece says "friends should now come equipped with the knives they will eventually stab you in the back with" I couldn't agree more!

So when I read some of these Dr. Seuss quotes I had to post them,

"I have heard there are troubles of more than one kind. Some come from ahead and some come from behind. But I've bought a big bat. I'm all ready you see. Now my troubles are going to have troubles with me!"

Now, if only people would take heed and stop irritating me!

And this next one is very specific, I wish some certain someones would read it carefully and know that they are who they are because they have made themselves that way. You control your own moral character. Duh!

"You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself in any direction you choose. You're on your own. And you know what you know. You are the guy who'll decide where to go."

Alas, they will never get it, and because of this the next quote will belong to them,

"I'm afraid sometimes

you'll play lonely games too,

games you can't win

because you'll play against you."

That sums up a lot of how I am feeling these days (On the friend front). Home life is going swimmingly. Settling into the homestead has been a breeze.

p.s. - Another fun "Seuss" fact about me and Mr. Jones: Brett proposed after we had gone to a late showing of Horton Hears a Who!

We followed that with a trip to IHOP for whocakes & green eggs and ham (they had a Seuss inspired menu in honor of the new movie)

Peace, Love, and Recycle

These little 6x6'' originals are a trio that I put together for an art show this fall.

One of the many hats I wear is being the Director of Creative Out Loud, an art club I started up 3 years ago. Each month at our meetings we draw 3 very random themes from a box. Each member has the next month to create something that has anything to do with one of those themes. It is pretty neat to see what everyone comes up with.

This particular month I had chosen Peace, Love, & Recycle as the theme for my project. I used some magazine clippings, various paints, wire, old match pack, fishing hook, and who knows what else.

I will occasionally post about the club and what we are doing, and some of my projects for the group.

Next month we will be starting our own workshops, so be ready to see some awesome creations!

Good morning world.

Lately I have been hackling my dad for getting old and doing things that old people do, like forget what they are talking about, general absent mindedness, and trying to use their office phones for calculators. Oh dad. I think the poor man forgets how to walk straight sometimes.

And then...I pull some shit like this:

A few mornings ago I have to drag myself out of the bed to get ready for work. This usually occurs between 5:45am and 6:15am.

I mosey into the bathroom to brush the choppers, put my eyeballs in, fix the face, do the hair, the usual.

But this particular morning the brakes are put on at- putting my contacts in.

The left eye is a piece of cake, but the right contact falls out at least a dozen times. Then I can't see quite right so I swap eyes. I waste a half bottle of solution trying to get a move on things, and I stand there for 10 minutes in amazement and totally bewildered that this isn't working.

"Oh god Brett! I can't see a damned thing!" "Do you think my eyes got worse?!" "What's going on?!" And so on....

Brett, "Uhhh....where are MY contacts?"

Me, "Ah crap! Son of a bitch!...they are right here" I then proceed to remove his contacts from my eyes and hold them out for him.

Brett, (after laughing hysterically) "Hey, at least they are really clean now"

Needless to say I am laying off busting dads chops for a while.