let's get serious (for once...)

y'all, i enjoy being a funny person.  (well, hopefully i amuse people.  i amuse the shit out of myself!)  but right now, i'm going to take a break from humor, and i'm going to talk about some important shit.

i don't know what y'all think about the Occupy Wall Street stuff going on.  
i am cynical because i don't think it will change anything, but i also think it's very fucking important for these things to be voiced.  
because no matter what political side you're on, everyone must realize that there is some fucked up shit going on in America right now.

i don't like to bitch about my life.  i hate it.  i know i should feel very lucky to be where i am.  but i don't.  and today i am going to bitch.  (it's mah blog, and i'll cry if i want to!  cry if i want to!  cry if i want to!)

y'all know a lot more about the weirder sides of my life than the boring stuff.  you may not know about the day-to-day personal side.  some of you are my great friends on The Twitter and others know me in real life, so some of you kinda know what's going on.  but i'm sure there's some random people reading this that have no clue about the practical side of my life.

i'm just going to (try to) stick to the facts.  i'm keeping it chronological. 

the last several years of my life

in 2006, i drove to Oregon to finish my degree at a liberal arts school in small-town Oregon, near Portland. 

in may of 2007, i graduated with a BA in Creative Writing.   i went to school on scholarship.  i had to maintain a 3.7 GPA throughout my college years.  i graduated cum laude.  when i graduated, i had accumulated $20,000 dollars of student loan debt, even with my $13k+ scholarships each year.

after graduating, i was unemployed.  i had to live off a credit card for a while, to keep my head above water and pay my bills. 

in June 2008, i finally landed a job at a prosperous law firm in Portland, OR.  i moved to the city, and sold my car to help pay the credit card bill, since i was off several major bus lines and the car wasn't a necessity.  
i wasn't doing well, but at the very least i was paying all my bills, and i could eat.  i couldn't afford luxuries, but i wasn't falling behind anywhere.

in april 2009, i was laid off from the law firm.  i did get unemployment benefits.  they were not enough for me to pay bills AND rent, so for a while i was homeless.  
i had my stuff stored in my friend and former roommate Dave's basement, and i camped for a month or so.  i volunteered at a music festival, and they fed us.  i slept over at friends' houses.  i crashed with The Matt, before we moved in together later (a move which was precipitated by him shattering his knee, and losing his income; we made the decision to move in together not because of our relationship, but out of financial need).  
i was a couch-camper; thankfully i never had to sleep on the street.  i have very good friends.  i also had food stamps, so i was able to feed myself.

i tried to find jobs, and i did find a temporary job, but i was fired after 3 weeks, for no reason i could see.

Matt and i did end up renting a room again for the few months before I left Portland, in our friends' house.  but when we had to move from that house, we decided it was time to try and make a change in our lives, in the hopes that we could somehow be better off elsewhere.

december, 2009, Matt and i moved from Portland to Pensacola, FL so that we could squat in my dad's foreclosed house, while we saved money and figured out what the hell to do.  when i moved, i lost my unemployment. 

in march 2010, we moved to new orleans and began the frantic job search.  it... didn't go well.  the job market might be even worse here in New Orleans than it was in Portland.

i got the worst job ever, and was then fired from it for a really shitty reason.  i was fired from other random jobs.  then, i just couldn't find any.  i couldn't get interviews.  (for the record:  from 1999 to 2009, i worked steadily, and i had NEVER been previously fired.  ever.)  i stumbled along through a combination of random photobooth gigs, and eking by as a stripper.  my bipolar and anxiety was steadily rising.

march 2011, my mom got me an SUV (which she is still paying on) so that i could do more photobooth jobs, and quit stripping. it helped, but photobooth gigs are by their nature unreliable.  unreliable income is INSANELY stressful, especially if you have to wonder if you're going to make rent every month.  
my bipolar and anxiety started flaring big-time.  i was unable to even go in to strip when i needed to, because i would have anxiety attacks and be unable to go. 

i was unable to pay for everything. 

here is me, right now:

it's october 13th, and so far i have only been able to pay $100 of my $400 rent to my landlord.

i can't pay any of my credit card bills, and creditors call me every day. 

my student loans are deferred, or in forbearance, collecting interest.

The Matt has to pay all the bills, which he can't afford to do, either.  


we go without food sometimes. it affects him a LOT more than it does me.  he has lost 40 pounds in the last 2 years (although part of that was due to shattering his knee, and losing muscle).  he's already a skinny dude.  he weighs less than me, and he's 2 inches taller.

 i have exactly $0.24 in the bank right now.  no cash.  i get paid $150 tomorrow, and $100 will go straight to the landlord, but my rent will still only be half paid.  the other $50 will be put towards paying back a friend, who loaned me $200.  this month i will get about $750; my costs are about $1100, bare minimum.  i will still be behind.  it feels like i will always be 
behind.

My bipolar is barely controlled; my anxiety is running rampant because the only doctor i can afford won’t prescribe me anxiety meds. why, i do not know. she just won’t. maybe she thinks i’m a drug seeker. maybe she just doesn’t care. 
i can’t afford my meds. i have no health insurance. i have no prayer of health insurance, even if i could afford it:  i have preexisting conditions.  bipolar disorder.  asthma.

I AM A  (relatively) HEALTHY 27 YEAR OLD WHO CAN’T GET INSURANCE.

Medicaid won’t accept me because i can’t prove my income. Ditto for food stamps.

i feel like a complete failure.  last year my grandparents guilt-tripped me for my birthday.  i was pissed and wrote them back, snarkily.  they haven't spoken to me since.

my mom doesn't guilt trip me, but she pushes me to try to get more work.  i wish i could accurately explain to her what the job prospects are really like for me.  she doesn't have any idea; she simply can't, because she has 30+ years of experience and she gets hired, even if she doesn't get paid nearly enough for her worth.

lately, my mom's completely quit worrying about me.  but it's because she's focusing on my step-dad, who just got diagnosed with cancer.  one bad medical bill could put them completely under.  mom can't even afford to take time off work to be with him while he has his cancer treatments half the country away.

my dad had his house foreclosed in 2009, the one we squatted in for a few months.  at least he seems to be doing better, financially, but he's the only one in our family.

my brother can't get a job.  i can't get a job.

The Matt, whose resume is even better than mine, can't get another job.  he has management experience out the wazoo.  but nothing.

we live underneath the poverty line.

a few days ago, i was fortunate enough to get a gig as an extra for a tv show.  we supposedly get paid in two weeks (by check), and it should be $100.  at least i should have some of next month's rent, eh?  or maybe i'll be able to pay the rest of this month's rent by the end of the month.

i am bringing all this up, because i am hardly the only struggling poor person who does NOT deserve to be in that position.  this is not just me, being "stupid with my money," or "lazy," or "irresponsible."  


look, there is not one single person in this household who has clothes that FIT, and none of us can afford to buy more clothing.  no, not even at the fucking thrift store.

there are so many people out there struggling.  generally speaking, the rich don't give a shit.  the compassionate among us are usually the ones in the same boat - living paycheck to paycheck, or falling behind, and unable to help others out.

i have no end to this.  i can't wrap it up.  i have no moral to this story.  it's just been on my mind, recently.  it always is. 

it's there when i try to fall asleep at night, and insomnia has a firm hold on my brain, which is busy worried about everything. 

there's no end in sight.

WE ARE THE 99%.

and we are being FUCKED.

http://wearethe99percent.tumblr.com/

those annoying "celebrity has plastic surgery" websites... how wrong they can be...

i can prove it.
cuz tits look completely different, depending on what you're wearing.
and i'm gonna take a gamble and say an actress stuffed into a tiny dress and a push-up bra probably does have ridiculous cleavage, but it doesn't necessarily make it fake...

i took a bunch of pictures in the same shirt, just for shits & giggles, to prove my point.

me, sans bra.  see how much i love y'all? (ha, as if i haven't posted braless pictures before... i've just never announced the fact.)

regular bra. makes a difference, but not too much.

push-up bra! affects definitely more noticeable (especially when compared to the first photo).

why hello, corset! and boobs up to my chin.  some douchebag on a "plastic surgery alert" website would probably flag this picture, if they'd seen the difference from the first, to this one.  eh?

how the corset effect works under a shirt from one angle...

 and the affects are even MORE pronounced, from a different angle.  see, guys?
all this shit is subjective.

also i think i'm proving, somewhat inadvertently, that the right "foundation garments" can completely change your appearance.

 

 and i just threw this pic in, because i like it.  i think that's a "push-up bra" picture, but who the hell knows.

moral of the story? the next time you see someone claiming that some actress has gotten a boob job, keep this in mind: push-up bras are like miracles for boobs.

one tequila, two tequila, three tequila...

today was yet ANOTHER of the infamous margarita dinners i have with my dad.  this time my brother and Anthony were along, and we decided to go to The Singing Oak.

The Singing Oak is fucking kick-ass.  here, watch ze video, that will give you a good idea of what it's like.



so, our drunken selves wanted to know if we could reach one of the lowest-hanging clangers on the biggest set of pipes...

first, we tried jumping.  not even.
THEN dad decided it would be a great idea to try to get one of us on his shoulders...
he completely failed with my brother, and then we decided to try with me...
he backed up against the tree, and i attempted.  take one.
he leaned forward suddenly, i accidentally kicked him in the head, and the next thing i knew i was flat on my back on some tree roots, staring up at the sky.  i just laughed my ass off, and lay there for a bit.  believe it or not, i was kinda comfy.  (see: drunk.)

have i mentioned at this point, that while my dad is tall, he is also only about 50-60 pounds heavier than me?  and 60?

but of course, our drunken selves were NOT about to give up that easily.  so we tried again. this time the shoulder mount actually worked, wonder of wonders!  we walked over to the clanger, and...
we were six (6!!! really??!?!) inches too short to reach the damn clanger.
so what did we do, instead?  say, give up?  decide to get more drinks?
ohhhhhh, no.  not us!

and that is how i found myself to be covered in grass, throwing my shoes at a tree.  which was my dad's idea.

we = special.

SPORK YOU!!!

blame Tazer Warrior Princess.  if she hadn't done THIS, then this video might not exist.

i really, really love sporks.

i'm infecting you with this, just as i was infected.

well, in recent news, i have a new girlfriend.  she is quite adorable, but i don't know if i can post pictures yet. i'll let you know.  ^_^

my new girlfriend Sarah and i went drinking with my dad... and i found out something i REALLY wish i'd known before. the place where we go that serves the frozen margaritas that i love, for 2 for $5 at happy hour...
yeah. evidently, there's two shots in each frozen margarita. so 3 margaritas evidently = 6 shots of tequila. well, that explains why i came home totally plastered after 4 margaritas that one time.

this time, it was 3 margaritas.  and then we went to another bar.  i put 2 nice big glasses of wine on top of that...
suffice to say, there was definitely some drunk going on that night.

Sarah recently infected me with this song.



i can't get it out of my head to save my fucking life, and it's been a week.  so i'm sharing, because i love y'all so much.

somehow, on our incredibly drunken night,
"can't hug every cat"
turned into
"can't hug every Matt, but i can hug this Matt!"
which turned into
"can't fuck every Matt, but i can fuck this Matt!"
yeah.

but you know what?



"i just had sex!"

i had waaayyyyy too much fun with this one.

somehow i managed to record all this without being laughed out of my living room. thankfully, everyone around here sleeps like the dead.

do you think there's rap classes out there that you can take? i think my problem is that i forget all the damn words...

record labels, feel free to pick me up any time!

there's no excuse for us

i don't know if you can hear it in the background, but the hookah Anthony's smoking bubbles just like a bong.  but you may not hear that, over the ridiculous app's electronic bong-noise.

yeah.

my house has been taken over! help, i'm being held hostage!

...by the clutter.

our little house seemed a bit small when only Matt and i were sharing it.
oh, how naive we were.

when you have a 2 bedroom house with four people living in it, things get wonky, quickly...



hope y'all enjoy the house tour. yeah, i know my house still looks like i'm a college student. (i swear, i do know how to decorate a house; hell, my dad's an antiques dealer.)
in my world, funny and weird always wins over tasteful.




i can't wait until we move to Austin. i will get a huge 4 - 5 bedroom house, if it kills me. with a garage, for all of the Matt's beer stuff & the photobooth business.

and for once, i am going to have a functional office!
of course, my idea of a functional office is a bit different.  i plan on covering all the walls with posters and ridiculous shit.  then i'm gonna dig out all my toys, and stick them EVERYWHERE. because there's no cure for writer's block better than playing with some stuffed animals, star wars figures, and barbies. duh.

The Nooky Song

hmm. well, someone got laid!



i don't really need to add anything to this, huh???

my. life. ROCKS!

while the others are evacuating, i've got my feet propped up while drinking my beer.

look, i know everyone's all nervous now, ever since Katrina.  and there's good reason to be, if/when another hurricane rolls through here.

but y'all, this is a tropical depression, jesus fuck!  seven years ago you would have been scoffing at it, just like every other fucking person on the gulf coast.  let's calm down a bit, shall we, NOLA?

the highway heading west is all backed up. seems like half the damn city's trying to leave... because of THIS:



ridiculous.  really, really ridiculous.

as an example, i contrast with this your average thunderstorm down here...



(at least watch until .45, to see/hear the lightning/thunder.)

my biggest problem in this tropical depression, storm, whatever?  i'm running out of beer.
quelle horreur!

the duck fuck dance!!!

i... have no excuse for this.  well, except for the fact that it's 4:20something in the morning and we? are special, special people.  

Welcome To The Looney Bin!!!



now that we (me + Anthony + my brother + Matt) are all living here, you can probably expect shit like this from now on.

you're sooo welcome.

i invaded Austin, and i like it!

i haz a vacation!  yes, i did.  and of course, because i am a photographer, i took a shitload of pictures.  and now i will torture you with them.
be jealous! Austin is fucking awesome.

the first thing we saw, upon coming into the city and parking, was this note on the parking meter.
we laughed, hard.

libraries are my paradise, so of course i drooled a little bit here.

i have no idea what the hell this building is, but it looks neat-o.

mural!

ooh, pretty!
in a few ways, Austin reminds me of Portland (hills, city separated by a river).  i'll be excited to move on in.  ^_^

this, my friends, is not a "majestic cactus," as i was told when i bought one.
in fact, it's an agave plant (which is a succulent, not a cactus, for the record), which is Really Fucking Cool.  they get HUGE.  i have seen one that was at least 10 feet tall, and probably that wide, too.
it wasn't in Austin, though; funnily enough it's in fairhope, alabama.

Austin is absolutely full of these agaves, and i LOVE it.  i have an agave, i'd say about 2 feet tall, and i CAN'T WAIT to get to my Austin house, and plant that motherfucker in the yard and let it grow into a monster.
INVASION OF THE KILLER AGAVE!!!  aaahhhhh!

does anyone know what kind of bird this is?  they were everywhere.

UPDATE: a minion left this comment for me:
"I'm no bird-expert, but I think that's a grackle. And a particularly ugly one at that."


how right you are... this one IS ugly!  
good to know, now i can refer to them as grackles instead of "you know... those blackish birds that aren't crows, ravens, or blackbirds..."

i love old architecture, and i also love the way the sunlight hit on the building.

of COURSE we had barbeque.  NOM NOM NOM NOMnomnomnom

the Matt's "DUH?" face, i guess.  don't ask me.

oh, he says it was the "i'm gonna ruin this picture!" face.
well, then.  there you go.

the other person there is my brother Logan, who is moving with us to Austin.  so, in other words, our house will be the fucking psych ward.  in the good way, of course.

 when i am fabulously wealthy & rolling in golden coins, i will SO light up my fucking house just like this.  it's the capitol building, and while it looks white here, it's really a light reddish color in the sunlight.

our hotel, complete with possessed psychrowave.  check it out:



psycho.  it also liked to beep every 5 seconds while heating your food, if you got it to finally work.  and then it would just beep randomly, for no good reason, about every five minutes or so.  we had to unplug the damn thing to keep from stabbing it.

i mentioned the psychrowave to one of the staff, and she told me that someone had died on the floor we were on, in the stairwell.
she agreed that if the psychrowave was not in fact possessed, it could potentially be haunted.  i agreed.
although why a ghost would want to haunt a microwave is completely beyond me.

haunted staircase.  at some point, there was a body lying there.  gasp!

we found this at the homebrew beer shop, of course.  


possibly the funniest damn thing i've seen in a long time.  drunkicorn!  unikeg-stand!  gettin' horny!  wasty-face! (which is what Matt calls me when i'm drunk;  he claims i was "wasty-face" last night, and i can't exactly disagree...)

RUBBER.  CHICKEN. PURSE.  whyyyyy do you not live in my closet???

i need one of these suckers.
so terrible, it's wonderful.  get on mah boobies!

i found the boot store, and it was  PARADISE!

i'm not a terribly southern person, i'm really not.
i do say y'all, and yeah, i have a bit of an accent.  a bit.  a teeny, tiny bit.  Shut.  Up.
i'm not your stereotypical southerner, that's for sure.
in fact, many southerners think i'm a Yankee.  i got called a yankee for all of middle & high school - evidently their criteria for being said yankee is coming from anywhere above alabama.

however, i AM from Kentucky.  and we have tons of horses.
i didn't own any, but i certainly did ride:  i went to horse camp every summer.
and do you know what you need, when riding horses?  boots.  and if you ride western style, and i do, you want - nay, need - cowboy boots.

DROOL.  but there is no way in hell i would buy these, because those suckers are $2,000 FUCKING DOLLARS.  ouch!
even if i could afford them, what's the point of a pair of cowboy boots you can't stomp through the mud in?

possibly the highest peak of hideousness: purple leopard-print cowboy boots.
What. The. Fuck.

these boots are for if your dick's too small, and you want to compensate for that very badly.

hint:  women can figure that shit out.  it's kinda like those jacked-up truck-driving Affliction and Ed Harvey-wearing dipshits.  it's like advertising that you're a douchecanoe asshat with a small dick.  they probably wear Axe, too.
ugh.
that shit is migraine in a can.

it's actually handy that they advertise themselves so well, if you think about it.  it's the human version of colorful plumage that says "keep away!!! POISON!!!  DO NOT MATE!!!"

i have no idea what kind of critter this was, but now it's tacked to a bathroom door in a boot shop.

these were my favorites.  i would have smuggled them out of the store like a bandit if they were A: my size, and B: black instead of brown, because i own approximately one brown thing, and it's probably a t-shirt.

scavenger hunt!!!  item one:  cowboy riding a rabbit.

um... check!

this is Matt's "get the hell out of the damn mirror so i can close the door and piss in peace!" face.
this is me trying to stop laughing at him long enough to take the picture.  ^_^

on the way out of Austin, i noticed that everything, literally everything, is cowboy-themed.  yes, even the bridges.  gun railings!  Gun Railings!!!  so cool.

i can't WAIT to move there, and break out my Stetson.

howdy, darlin'.

yee-motherfucking-haw!

i'm laaazy. yes, i am. i consider it a talent.

i've been busy (well... for me at least) lately - first, my brother came to invade my house visit for two weeks.

and THEN, i went back with him & my dad to go visit the parental units.  at least half, because they have pools, and dad lives on the beach. yeah, pensacola!  so i became a mermaid for a week, completely leaching the 6 random colors out of my hair in the process.  eh, colors can always be fixed.  worth it!

just when i got back to my own house, my brother, the Matt and i all left, to go visit Austin.  fact:  you can definitely go on a vacation with $75 in spending money for two people.  other fact:   bring food.  and you'll be doing a LOT of walking...

anyway, Austin was fabulous, despite the fact that the high temp was at least 104 the whole time we were there.  at least there's no humidity, and the breeze off the river is quite nice.  plus, cool nights!

i'm sooo excited to be moving there at the end of this year.  love NOLA, but i'm ready to leave.  i'm a traveler at heart; if i didn't have so much shit, i would probably pack a car and just... go everywhere.

now: i have good stories to share about being with the parents and Austin, and about how i was almost in an orgy last night...

it'll have to wait though, because i have to go to the strip club & try to save my broke ass... hahah. ass.  yes, a lot of people will be seeing that tonight.

on being in a pawn shop:

i've had lots of fun escapades i've been on recently that i've gotta fill y'all in on.  and i will.

but i have to tell you about my day today.  it was... special.
yes, life has gone a bit wonky at the Casa del Batshit, lately.

my strip club friends and i have this joke: "what is a B.A. in Creative Writing (my degree, for the record) good for?"  "stripping!!! bwahahahah."

well, it's not good for landing your dream job, that's for sure.  (oh please, someone even vaguely connected to the writing/editing field hire me... please!)

what a lot of people don't realize is that in NOLA there is a completely dead season, lasting all summer.  not that i blame the tourists for staying away from this heat.  i went to texas (austin - more on that later) and their 104 still felt a bit better than our 95. yeechh.

anywho, since all of the photobooth jobs are pretty much nil and void for the summer months, we've been... limping by.  well, more like crawling.  or maybe like a legless guy on a skateboard.  or doing the zombie body drag.
suffice to say, we are so poor it's not even funny. except it kinda is; i mean you have to laugh at it.  we're supposed to be grownups and shit (HA!), yet i'm more destitute right now than i was in college.

i currently have (looking up bank balance...) $1.92 in my bank account. no lie.
i don't know what the Matt has, but it's probably not much better.

so, to the end of getting some food in the house (i had beer yesterday for dinner), we went to the pawn shop with some assorted random jewelry, and a steel drum (have i mentioned Matt's a drummer?).
i'd brought some nice heavy silver pieces, and i'd looked up the price for silver per ounce: currently $43, for the record. and 14k gold is about $1040.  and here you can see what i mean...

to put this in perspective, an ounce is the maximum weight that you can send with one stamp.  it's not all that heavy, you know?

the pawn people offered $5 for a steel drum worth $80+ so obviously we didn't sell that.  then, i tried the jewelry. i had a nice heavy silver bracelet, and a silver necklace with turquoise.
pawn lady had the audacity to tell me my bracelet wasn't even silver. do i LOOK like i'm stupid?  for fuck's sake, i was with my mom when she picked that out for me in like 7th grade - it's definitely silver.  then, she claimed that my turquoise was not, in fact, turquoise.  i wanted to scream at her - my dad's an antique dealer, and you're not fooling me, you lying bitch!  
unfortunately, i was still trying to get money out of her, so i held my tongue.


then, we went on to the gold.  now i don't know how much it weighed, but it wasn't hollow and light.  i told them i wanted $50 out of it.  this seemed like a good deal to me.  i'm sure the piece itself must have been $200+, and it was practically brand new.

those fuckers gave me $15 goddamn dollars!  if i didn't desperately need to eat today, i would have told them to fuck off.  unfortunately, i don't feel like starving to death anytime soon, soooo...

i understand pawn shops have to make money, i do.  but jesus fuck, no need to rip somebody off like that - surely a 100% markup should suffice, instead of a 400%!  cuz you know they're gonna sell that necklace for $100, they could have given me $50.

i call SHENANIGANS!

so we went to the walmart (i am a whole foods shopper - showcasing my desperation here) and bought: ramen, bread i'd normally never touch, lunch meat of the terrible kind, and american cheese.  hell. i had to get shit we could both eat for a week, on $15. what else do you do?

i don't even think i can explain my loathing for american cheese. i am a cheese snob. i think my face was probably pinched into the "mouthgun" look for the entire time we were in the store.

if any of you lovely people can figure out how to scrap together $600 by the end of the month let me know! i have to pay rent and my phone bill... and the utility bill, lest they shut off my electricity, air-conditioning, and internet.  quelle horreur!


we're rocking the pathetic around here.  ROCKING IT, i say!!!

it's completely true.

i love this almost as much as i love Meet the Feebles.

YOU'RE WELCOME... INTERNET!

i'd blame this on the booze, but frankly there's no excuse.  i am stone cold sober.  i mean it.  (actually that is quite a shame; maybe i should fix that.)
anyway, back to regularly scheduled idiocy.

i'm at my dad's place, stealing the neighbor's free internet.  my dad has probably never touched a computer in his life, so i was pleasantly surprised to get any sort of wireless signal.  it made me so happy.  i am your internet junkie.

of course, dad goes to bed much earlier than i do (i got him high, i'm sure that didn't help - or did he get me high? hmm...).
i have absolutely nothing to do here, once dad goes to sleep.
additionally, my lovely friend Anthony  just bought me a Nicki Minaj CD a few days ago, so i've had it on repeat.  and this bloody song is stuck in my head!

all of this is contextual,  but it absolutely, in no way, excuses this video.
yeah, just watch the damn thing.
whee!



i would like to point out a few things here:

you can see my butt in one of those shots, but i'm not telling which.
whatever, i'm wearing underwear and shit.

i am sunburnt as fuck.  i don't think you can see that in the video, but trust me when i say i'm lobster-colored.

i swear, i do not suck at dancing (this badly, at least... i mean, i am a white bitch).

this is what happens when you're dancing around in your dad's guest bedroom, sans choreography, because you obviously need a fucking hobby.

in case you wondered what 5 a.m. looks like at my house... well, this is pretty much it.  except this time it's a traveling show.

my dad's guest bedroom is the least decorated room in the house. i mean, there's only one painting in here - gasp!  as opposed to his living room...

zombie squid

jesusfuckholyshittingchristontoast this exists.

"in communist china, squid eat YOU."

camera porn!

y'all know i work weddings.  i work a lot of weddings.  most of them are pretty boring, to be honest.  but the one i worked on saturday...

well, it had me drooling.

the bride had provided really awesome vintage cameras, as well as an old typewriter.

the wedding planner couldn't figure out how to make the typewriter work for the life of them, even though the bride expected the typewriter to be an integral part of her guest list.

i went and fiddled, because i was evidently the only person at the entire wedding (including the bride...) who knew typewriters.  the only problem was that the ribbon was dry, so i just rewound the ribbon the other way, and got the typing to show up a little better.  it wasn't perfect, but it was a quick fix.

even though i have my own typewriter, i'm still lusting after a few more to add to my collection.

i love the shit out of my typewriter.

i love old cameras.  i would kill for these cameras!  if i were a meaner person, i would have slowly absconded with all of them - even the ones that didn't work.  : ]
well, who knows if any of them work.  they all looked a bit worse for wear.

still, how gorgeous is that???

oh, jesus fuck!  can i PLEASE steal this to put on my mantel???!?!??

still, my camera lust is somewhat placated by my own film camera.  i love it dearly.  even though it's "outdated" and i can't get any more professional photography gigs with film, i still love it.
although i could really stand to get a good DSLR...
i wish!  anyone got  $1500 to spare???  : /

 oh darling, darling film!

i recently took this camera to Jazzland, and had a ball.  i can't wait to see what i find, when i develop the film.

laughing at my younger self

whilst scrolling through my ten-year old blog (damned if i'll let the url to that one leak out...), i found a quiz.

i am not, and really never have been, the quiz-taking sort.  minus the purity quiz, because that one is fucking hilarious, especially when taken in groups of people.

however, a few friends have bullied me into some quizzes throughout the years.  

so when i found this one... well, i wanted to take it again, just to see what has changed, if anything.  yes, all the old answers are left unmolested...i last took this when i was 18 or 19.  so it's been a while (i'm 26).  i am, however, leaving out the really fucking boring questions.

new answers are in red.

Full name:  i'm so not gonna leak that one out...

ditto! 

Nicknames:  SATAN

ditto!  some things never change.

What Do You Look Like: red hair, green eyes, 5' 6", ridiculously sexy, (my boyfriend inserts random flattering things here), oh yeah, like a vampire....i never go out in the sun...

 5' 6", red hair, eyes that change from blue to green to grey, dependent upon mood & what color i'm wearing, as Matt says, "Fucking Hot," and i'm still pale-ass white, so i suppose the vampire thing still stands.

Parents: ....one female, one male, divorced

one awesome mom, one delightfully gay & flamboyant dad, still divorced, thank fuck!

Siblings: younger brother 

his name is Logan, and is also Appropriately Awesome.

Future Goals: drop out of school and become ridiculously famous, probably as a brilliant writer, and do all sorts of fun, slightly illegal things

become famous, DEFINITELY as a brilliant writer/blogger, and do shitloads of hilarious, fun, REALLY illegal things.  

What I Want To Be/Do: a writer....duh.....of course i could also be in a band, that would work too.

either of these professions would be awesome.  they also compliment each other, so that's a plus!

 Best Friends: uh.........angela...megrez...ronny....j&c, obviously, god knows who else...maybe i should be listening former best friends

Angela, Megrez, DEFINITELY NOT Ronny (douchebag ex #2), Kat, Anthony, Dave, i'd say the Matt definitely qualifies, shit, we live together.   i have many people i keep up with on the internet, that i'd consider good friends, even if they don't feel the same.

Special Talents Or Skills: i sing - beautifully - (oh shut up) - i've been told i'm great in bed.....i have a long tongue....i play like 3 musical instruments, dancing (all kinds), writing...

i play 5 instruments, i do in fact sing well.  i'm a former ballerina & gymnast, and i am still a dancer.  i'm not sure fucking is a talent.  does drinking count?  what about smoking lots of pot?

Little Known Talent You Possess: anything weird you can possibly do with a tongue

i can make a clover with my tongue.  can you?  ahem.  by the former statement, i did not mean weird sexual things.  although to be honest, i've probably done all of those, too.

Pets And Names: ronny....he's the only pet i have at the moment....

UGH!  ::shudder::  i was so dumb as a freshman in college.

2 cats, Punk (male) and Roxy (female), one rat, Squeak (female).

Hobbies: singing, dancing, READING, writing, listening to good music, sleeping, being generally scary and psychotic, and freaking people out in walmart, and oh yes, drinking blood

i was a teenage goth!!!  but no seriously, i was in the habit of biting people until they bled. 

i will admit to a fascination for blood.

i do read a lot; i write a lot.  i am actually singing under my breath, right now.  i probably don't annoy people in walmart anymore.  usually.

Collect: oh god, don't go there

i collect:  books, mostly.  i will admit to hoarding rocks, herbs, shoes, random stuffed animals, nail polish, and the occasional barbie.  (shut. up.)  i asked Matt, and he said, "Souls."

so yeah.

Type Of Car You Drive: piece of shit 92 buick

half-way okay Ford Explorer, 2000 i think.  or 99. 

Word Or Phrases You Overuse: .......you got me...... 

and, really, yeah, totally, fuck.

Favorite Shampoo Or Conditioner: bed head

well, i'm using several varieties of random organic conditioners.

as for shampooing, i'm using a baking soda mix, and a diluted vinegar rinse.

Have You Ever Been Skinny Dipping: oh yeah.....a lot...... 

well that hasn't changed.  but i swim naked a shitload more, now.

Do You Make Fun Of People:  often ....and loudly.....  

heheh.  okay, maybe i wasn't that horrible as a teenager.

 
Have You Ever Been Convicted Of A Crime: not yet....but waaay too close for comfort 

the sheer fact that i haven't been arrested for drugs, or being intoxicated in public, or being naked in public... well.  miraculous.

Do You Drink:......uh. college student. 

my boyfriend brews beer.  do i drink???  lmfao.  please pass the whisky.

Favorite Drink: dr.pepper, hot tea, sweet tea
whisky.  or beer.  or a mint julep. 

What Is Your Favorite Milk: whole....leave the fat grams in my shit!

skim milk is the most disgusting thing that i've ever had.  2% is acceptable.  i still buy whole milk.  mmm.

Who Are Your Crushes (They Can Be Famous Or Not): liv tyler, steven tyler , orlando bloom, most of the lead in LOTR...etc

ohmyfuck.  no.  nononono.  i'll admit to liv tyler.  and angelina jolie.  yeah, i don't really have a lot of crushes.  i either go after who i want, or i don't.

Boyfriend/Girlfriend or Husband/Wife: one blonde boyfriend

one red-headed boyfriend, and a few lady prospects, woo! 

Tattoos And Piercings: three holes in each ear, belly, tattoo on each wrist, one on small of back....more to come.....

 four holes in each ear, one belly, one nose piercing.  i used to have a hood piercing.  removed it because it was interfering with my sex life, not helping.  may try that again sometime.  

2 tattoos on each wrist, one on left forearm, one on right bicep, one on right ring finger, one on the small of my back, huuuge wings.  on my back.

Favorite Town To Chill In: new orleans is my oyster

new orleans has gotten old.  i miss living in portland!

but i think we're moving to austin next, soo...

What Is Your Bedtime: when the sun comes up

still that. 

Favorite Perfume/ Cologne : Ralph lauren romance, and so pink by gap...ya i know....ha ha

L'Occitane has many single-note floral perfumes.  i wear those.  also, Hove in new orleans has some really great scents:  notably, their tea olive scent.  

A Non-Sport Game That You Excel In: mortal kombat, motherfucker.

i can't play a damn thing that isn't on the Wii.  i kinda suck at Wii, too, but i don't mind as much.  i do occasionally suck ass at Guitar Hero, when others are playing it and they ask me to play.

 

Best Advice Ever Given: DO NOT STICK YOUR FINGERS IN THESE HOLES.

considering who that advice was about... yeah, it was terribly, horribly accurate.

"Kids, Do Not Fuck That Shit.  That Shit is GROSS."  - Bob Saget

Coolest Experience: ah.........can't think of one currently

that would probably have to be smoking pot under the Merry Pranksters' (& Ken Kesey's) bus Further, with a long-time hippie lights guy who used to do lights for a LOT of the old famous bands.  while wearing a backstage pass around my neck, because i was helping with the festival.  then, Zane Kesey caught us smoking under there, and just kinda shook his head, and walked away.  

so far, that is.  i'm sure i'll beat that, sooner or later.

Funniest Experience: the reason angela won't let me drive her car anymore

have you ever been on acid?  people are fucking hilarious on acid.  also, everything's hilarious to you, when you're on acid.

Scariest Experience: running from the cops

funny enough, i don't actually remember this one.  chances are i was stoned out of my mind.

Most Romantic Thing That Ever Happened To You: rose petals, cathedral...blanket....sex.....etc etc...

oh, gag me, teenage self!  

actually that wasn't romantic at all, since it involved sneaking blankets and ourselves under a fence, and fucking on the balcony floor of a cathedral which was under construction, therefore covered in debris.  and did you know that rose petals stick to your ass, when you fuck on them?

you know what, i actually fucking hate "romantic" gestures, for the most part.

although i have to say, the sweetest, most inexplicable thing anyone's ever done is bring me an armful of rosebuds - 217 of them, for no reason whatsoever.  i was bored, so i counted.

Favorite Thing To Do In The Summer:  skinny dipping at night, and hide from the sun

still pretty accurate.  i do like to go sunbathe occasionally. 

Favorite Type Of Music: everything but country, glory rock....etc.

i do like most types of music, but i'm damn sick of jazz!  i like good country, but nothing they'd play on CMT.  and i'm sick to death of most metal.  i do really love a few metal bands, though.

Groups/Singers You Enjoy: enigma....type o negative, the darkness.....heheh.   aerosmith, john mayor, marilyn manson, no doubt, smashing pumpkins, lots of people

whoo, this one's really changed.

bright eyes, ani difranco, modest mouse, death cab for cutie, the weepies, florence & the machine, and that is barely scratching the surface.

Favorite Animal(s): cats (and who didn't see that one coming?....)

true, but i also really love horses.

Favorite TV Show: buffy buffy buffy the vampire slayer, people!!!

also add Mad Men, True Blood, Weeds, and Dexter.

Favorite TV Game Show:  they all suck

this is very true.

Favorite Thing To Wear: black, scary things....or anything cuddly and fuzzy with jeans...or anything i steal from ronny....because it pisses him off

pajamas.  definitely pajamas. 

Favorite Magazine: JANE, vintage playboys, vogue, anything else i can butcher with scissors that doesn't have preteens in it

bust, bitch, vanity fair, new yorker, juxtapoz, hi-fructose, and i will admit to liking vogue in spite of myself.   

Favorite Fruit: cherries, and strawberries

also, raspberries, and blackberries.  

If You Could Dye Your Hair One Color What Would It Be: green

i've done green.  and black, and red, and burgundy, and orange, and purple, and pink, and blue...

If You Could Have A Tattoo Where And What Would It Be: what i already have, some wings on my back, some woad swirls on my hands and forearms......we're working on it..........

hmm, i think i might ix-nay the woad swirls, but it would look pretty cool.  so we'll see.  obviously, i have the wings.  and i have several other tattoo ideas in mind.

If You Could Turn Into Only One Animal Real Or Imaginary What Would You Be: black panther.....mmm, sexy

a housecat would be good.  cats have it easy, to be sure.  both of mine are lounging and napping right now.

Favorite Mentos Commercial: cuntos!!! the fresh fucker....hehehe

reeeally bad inside joke...

Is The Glass Half Empty Or Half Full: oh who cares already? 

 if it's beer, it's half-empty.  if it's whisky, half-full...

 What Is Under Your Bed: binders, drawers with underwear and towels, cameras, knives, lighters, razorblades, etc etc....and dust 

 heheheh  that was all?  drawings, posters, paintings, several suitcases, a car seat, fake hair (for when i want to braid mine up), boxes of who-knows-what, a bag for things drum set related, and whatever else Matt's shoved in there by now.  plenty.  i'm sure i've forgotten a few things.

If You Were To Kill Someone, What Method Would You Choose: cyanide, or a really sharp blade, or tearing to bits with my teeth......

poison is good.  knives are fine.  sniper rifles are better.  depending on the hatred level, a titanium spork could be used, with much pleasure.

 
If You Could Be Anything In A Kitchen, What Would You Be: uh huh.  really fucking good champagne???? or maybe some reallllly good whisky

ditto.

What You Notice About The Opposite Sex First:  PENIS!!!!!!!.....lol, no i'm kidding...i don't know!  it's a package deal.

oh haha, i was so punny.  i look at faces first, i think.  for the opposite, and the same sex.

 
Are You A Virgin:........obviously, no

bwahahahahah!

Something You Hate: mornings, going to class, stupid people, cigarette smoke in clouds when i come out the dorm.....hot weather

well that about covers it!

 

 i'm torn between wanting to laugh, wanting to cry, and thinking that i really haven't changed all that much.

unfortunately, for the rest of the world.

so yeah, sorry for making y'all read a damn quiz.  although, i am thinking about taking the purity test again...

UPDATED:

yeah, i took the purity test again.  the 1,000 question whopper.

it took a while.

anyhow, i'm 38.4% pure.  ha.  as opposed to, 40-something% the last time.

i claim the test is partly unfair, as i blatantly can't have sex with a blow-up doll, and other various things.  come on, like 10 questions about having sex on a boat?  psshh.

anyhow.

so if you're bored...