Not a Dry Eye In The House. Oh, Except Mine

It is true that I have been completely slacking when it comes to the blog. I should now just assume it is going to be a quarterly. Like a fine literary journal but without the compelling fiction.

It is not as though interesting things haven't happened -- we went to Vancouver, Hawaii, San Francisco. I had an art opening, Sofia started walking. Oh quite a few happenings. Quite a few. But somehow, they just didn't seem like blog fodder. Or, I was just over the blogging.

So what inspires me today? My own idiocy.

Yes, this morning I was getting showered and dressed in a hurry with the little one (now 14 months) noodling in and around my legs, wanting to play. Somehow in my haste I went from applying antiperspirant to touching my eye and got a great gooey glob of the Maxim right in the old left socket. Stumbling around, a moved as quickly as I could from the bathroom to the kitchen (no clothes, front door open) to rinse out the eye, which was now clamped shut from the stinging pain. And drying. Just like Mitchum should. On one's armpits. While I rinse out the offending goo I beg my husband to call the insurance nurse's line or look online to see if blindness is imminent all the while the baby, not understanding what the hell is going on, is tapping on my still wet and naked leg, wanting me read the children's classic "Brown Bear, Brown Bear What Do You See?" To which I could honestly answer, "Not a whole f*%$%$ing lot."

Wash, rinse, repeat and then go to the Emergency. While I was there, I rinsed again because the only person who seemed to have compassion and the will to help was the check in security guy who, after around an hour, had me read a sign to check my vision and advised me I could probably go home. Wanting to avoid some horrendous emergency bill and seeing no doctor care in sight (oh yes, pun intended), I called Jeffrey and advised him that I was cured or, since it was a security guard, cleared to go..and I would be walking the three blocks home.

So I would officially like to change the old Haste Makes Waste adage and update it with Haste Makes Pain. And I have also learned that pain + time = comedy or, at the very least, something worthwhile to blog.

Poetry Spam

I've noticed a trend towards including text that reads like poetry or part of a short story -- a kind of written exquisite corpse for those selling Canadian prescriptions and the latest stock tips. Here is a recent example:


Much next one second.
People sentence their before out without.
Answer land school want may.
Use very animals soon of some water between that.

Any next again they under found.
See different learn another an three saw me down.
Big go took because many when.
Near need sound miles.
Took part parts like each a take right then.

Words well then kind all.
We better hard saw took need only word.
Left come that have help she off them second man.
Since whole miles him small hear they miles.
Last part several important years through.

Had across same whole years there do.
This across earth end line this picture can.
Year had feet earth year earth always then.
Line came like without been then.
Was through where she while change.
These things where side well near were the than ways.

Tree People

Well I don't know whether to be horrified or annoyed, but I just did a quick search and found out that these faces are a common accoutrement you can buy at many a garden store.

Buy why oh why oh why????

Freak Face Trees Are Multiplying

I don't want to be paranoid, but what else could I feel when I came upon THIS while strolling along in Shell Beach, CA, a few hundred miles from my street. Yes, there I was enjoying a weekend in the central coast wine region sans bebe no less, when I tuned to appreciate a quaint motel. As quick as you can say Bates, I jumped back in shock. The tree face freaks had struck. Or at least migrated to Small Beach Town USA.

So...to paraphrase a famous question: if a tree smiles on the street and there is only one person to be afraid, is it still scary?

PT. 2: Fearing The Fir

They are multiplying. The freaky faced tree now has a doppleganger directly across the street. Same omnipresent smile and bugged out eyes, this one with a trace of spiderweb because, apparently, the creep factor needed to be taken up a notch.

The tree sits in a yard surrounded by that icon of Americana, the white picket fence. Which in the 21st century seems to favor wood-grain embossed plastic as its contruction medium.

I'm off for my morning walk...wish me luck.

Just Leaf Me Alone

Our neighborhood is a friendly, wave to people, know the business owners kind of place. With cheery, tree-lined streets...wait, did I say "cheery"? Well now I stand corrected. There is one tree on our street that can only be described with a word that begins with C and has the same number of letters. You guessed it crossword buffs: Creepy.



It looks like the spawn of a devilish clown and a maple tree. The unholy Diablo Deciduous.

I'm Very Jolli

Truth be known, I haven't eaten here. Still, Jollibee is my favorite fast food restaurant. And for a woman who hasn't eaten at a major chain for a decade, this is...well I don't know what it is really. A confession?

Anyway, check out this link: http://www.jollibee.com.ph/products.htm. I love the name Chickenjoy. Passing one of the stores (there are 10) in Los Angeles, I actually thought this place was a film set.

Oh and good news: Kids will be seeing a lot more of Jolibee in school through Jollibee's Values Education Program. Pretty please (with Jolli on top) sign me up!

Me & The Peanut