I’m still busy reading several Spanish books, watching DVDs and my internet soap opera, listening to educational cds and trying to remember some of the Spanish I learned in high school and college.
I find myself trying to describe everything I’m doing out loud in Spanish all the time, even when I’m out walking the dogs. At times it drives me crazy because I can’t stop it. Then when I speak English, I sometimes accidentally keep the Spanish accent or say things the way you would in Spanish. I’m frustrating myself a bit because I can’t seem to memorize vocabulary fast enough, especially the verbs.
It’s a shame I didn’t have any reason to keep up with it all these years, I had gotten pretty good at it by the time I was in college.
A friend sent me this video today, I thought it was appropriate for this post:
Well, it’s my yearly dermatologist’s appointment tomorrow. Ach! It involves the old “full body mole check.” I have a disproportionately extreme reaction to having a dermatologist’s appointment, probably because I have a long, dreadful history with them that started when I was about 13. In fact, it was an email describing last year’s nightmarish appointment that led me to want to write a blog in the first place.
I had that kind of acne that when you see a poor kid with it you either avert your eyes or feel overwhelming sympathy for the unfortunate sot. Going to that Dr. was torture, mentally and physically and it never really helped at all. As a result of the acne and the Dr. appointments, anything associated with my skin can easily make me cry just at the thought of it. The older I get, the worse the scarring looks too, which doesn’t help me try to forget about it at all. Plus, I still have acne. For God’s sake, when the hell does that crap stop?
Anyway, I have to go in tomorrow morning and I could just puke. The female Dr. I spent a couple years getting used to seeing has left the practice and was replaced by a guy. NO NO NO, a new person and a dude, NO NO NO. I started getting pins and needles in my hands shortly after I made the appointment today and began feeling light-headed. I was going into a complete panic attack and thought my chest was caving in. I stood up and the room started getting black. So I started to chastise myself for being a ridiculous baby, which helped nothing, and now I’ve just resigned myself to having a couple days of severe anxiety and hoping I don’t pass out in their office before they have even told me that I’ve got an incurable disease tomorrow.
I don’t actually want it to be a terribly embarrassing appointment like last year’s, but it did make for a great story so I’m slightly torn about it. Although, nobody really reads this stuff so what good is an entertaining story any more? I don’t seem to have the same sense of humor lately anyway, I guess I have to be miserable or discontent to be funny.
Ever have one of those days were nothing is going your way and even though none of it is catastrophic or really that bad you just can’t take it?
With every little thing that gets added onto my day, I find my patience dwindling and my blood pressure escalating. If I were a rich girl and could afford a big loss, the neighbors would have witnessed this laptop flying from my window like a frisbee about a half hour ago—this would have given me such pleasure too, bummer.
I feel that I’m on the verge of a “Joan Crawford moment.”
The other day my associate went out to buy some fruit for the wee boy. He loves most all fruit but I’d say mangoes are his favorite with bananas being a close second. We always make sure to have bananas around because if all food is rejected, he’ll still eat a banana.
Don’t you find that these days bananas ripen to the point of disgust in about 24 hours? We do, so we make an effort to buy the greenest ones we can find, which is what she brought home that day. They looked perfectly fine to me but when I went to peel one it seemed that they were made of wood. Perhaps they were picked from a petrified forest or perhaps she’d mistakenly purchased plantains. They looked exactly like normal bananas; usually they look somewhat different so I see that it was an easy mistake to make.
Anyway, I’m making a long story out of nothing here. The point is that I had the brilliant idea today to make fried plantains as a part of Alex’s lunch. I haven’t made them for over a decade and can I tell you - they are fabulous!!! The wee boy wasn’t sure at first but then he suddenly realized what a delicacy they are and couldn’t eat them fast enough. They were really good and it was hard to share them, but I’m so thrilled with his very adventuresome palate that I had to hand them over.
I decided to whip up another batch tonight for the associate, she loved them too, so I’ll surely have to make these again sometime before another decade passes. We’ve got a few left in this bunch, maybe I should become a plantain aficionado and try something else tomorrow, how’s Shrimp and Plantains on Skewers with Mango Mayonnaise sound?
Continuing on with this month’s “bathrooms” theme, I have decided to reveal that my eyebrows require constant attention. Were I not to possess considerable topiary skills, I would look like I’m wearing a brown velvet headband.
The cool thing is that I have so much to work with I can sculpt them into many different shapes. I can create subtly different looks to my face by changing their angle, position and density. During my great depression I went a little nuts with the reshaping. I created very angular, drastic eyebrows. I’m not sure what I was trying to accomplish but it gave me a much harder look. When I was in college, I left them fuller which produced a much kinder look. I was fine with this until one too many Brezhnev jokes were cracked.
Last month I decided that since I feel my forehead is schlunking down over my eyes, I should start to remove more from the bottom to give the illusion that they’re still as high as they used to be. I’m letting them be a tad fuller and I’m keeping a slight angle but erring more on the side of a curve, trying to blend the best of all my previous styles.
(Shown here with the best tweezers I’ve ever owned, it’s very hard to find tweezers that actually work.)
Hmmm, I don’t think I’ve ever really talked about this much before, certainly not my thought process surrounding the issue. I wonder if it’s because it’s something that I do by myself in the privacy of my bathroom every day - my own personal obsessive-compulsive moment that didn’t need sharing. Nah, I share most everything, I make fun of most everything, I must have just overlooked this topic somehow.
I heard this old gem over the weekend and now it’s stuck in my head, so I thought I’d post it here and get it stuck in your head too.
How embarrassing for me to have looked up this video and, never having seen Minnie Ripperton before, I find out that she looks nothing like the skinny blonde elf that I had pictured my whole life. I had however pictured the Baby’s Breath in her hair, so that was true to my mental image. I thought there would be golden light, a lot of vaseline smeared on the lens, perhaps a field and some sort of white gauzy dress blowing in the breeze. They did bring out the white cage with a dove though, that was a nice touch I hadn’t thought of.
From Wikipedia: Minnie Julia Riperton (November 8, 1947 – July 12, 1979) was an American soul singer and songwriter, most noted for her abilities in the whistle register and her 1975 hit single “Lovin’ You“. Possessing a rare five-octave vocal range, she displayed the ability to imitate instrumentation and even birds.
I’m suddenly feeling a bit arty for a change and I’ve had a rush of ideas come to me out of the blue. I don’t have the freedom to invest the time in another painting right now since it requires countless hours alone in my studio, so I’ve decided to make some little heads again. I started making them in college when I had creative blocks just to pass the time and they ended up being somewhat fun for me. The good thing about them is that I can make them anywhere, so I can be carving out a big nose or squeezing in some cheekbones while Alex plays.
This is one of the heads I made in my last batch about five years ago:
I’ve got my supplies ready to go and I’m actually a bit enthused about it.
Assuming these new heads turn out the way I’m envisioning them, I’ve been doing some research into different mold making methods. I previously used a latex mold making product that took me forever and a day to create a mold and the results were sort of wimpy. I’m now looking into a silicone product that should produce far better casts and hold up much better.
I’m a week late starting this month’s SPC theme of “bathrooms,” but better late than never I suppose.
Here I’m showcasing my 80+ year old useless sink. There are seperate taps for the cold and hot water so you either freeze your face off or melt it into oblivion. If your particularly skillful and have asbestos hands you can sometimes blend them together really fast and make a nice temperature or if you’re lucky to be the first one to use the bathroom, the hot water hasn’t gotten that hot yet and you can just use that tap and do pretty well (I usually shoot for this option).
I suppose if I was feeling old fashioned I could stop up the drain and fill up the sink to blend the hot and cold together, but that just seems so wasteful and then you’d just be rinsing your face with soapy water, that never made any sense to me and my skin couldn’t tolerate it anyway. There are probably smarter solutions, but I’m lazy and usually just want to get to bed.
Well, I guess it’s quaint, and it is, of course, better than nothing.
Not the best quality photos in the world, I had to take them myself while he was rolling all over me, however, we had the most delightful time together today on our giant foof chair. This was the very first time he’s actually shown real affection towards me. I could have stayed there all day.
