the weekend that was Lake Nokomis
Our beautiful view of Lake Nokomis while playing croquet...this picture taken immediately before Steph falls on her ass and chokes on her beer.
Todd, well that is another story.
Backseat driver.
a life ruled by her day planner
Obvious (and perhaps annoying) to my friends and family, I am a compulsive and somewhat freakishly anal list-maker. If I could get paid to make lists, if there were a job out there for turning the unorganized to organized through list making, that would be my job. I make lists for everything, including my daily lists of things to do, my weekly schedule for work and appointments, and don't forget my fool-proof grocery lists--items organized by location in the supermarket and price per pound, if on sale--(I seem to have gotten this compulsive grocery list making, among other freakish traits, from my mother).
And the list making gets worse.
Sometimes, when I'm feeling especially organized, I'll even write down something which I've already accomplished, just so I can scratch it off my List. Some people would shudder at the thought if this and tell me, "Well, now that's just poor time management, why would you even waste the ink?" To them, I say the hell with you--you obviously wouldn't know a good list if it was growing out of your ass.
Now, the reason for all this list-making stems from my need to be organized and in control. This need tends to come out in lists and in CALENDARS. For my own pleasure, I've counted the number of calendars to my name, knowing that it might seem excessive to some people, but knowing deep down that these calendars are all useful to me in at least one way.
I have a total of 11 calendars, people. 11. That's right. And consequently, 7 of them are at my disposal at any given time.
Now despite all my recent claims to be The Organized One, and really With It when it comes to remembering things, I have now recently lost My Day Planner. My DAY PLANNER for crying out loud. This is the calendar of all calendars. My day planner is to my sanity what the Big Mac is to McDonald's. It's my selling point--
So how am I going to claim organization and seem in control when I can't even look to see if my pap smear is today or next February?
Now for all of you thinking to yourselves, "What about the art? Why is there not yet a SINGLE photo or piece of art on this site?" And to those of you thinking this, Can you please suck my big fat toe?
I've lost my day planner, okay? And do you know what else? My day planner has the List of photos and some artsy fartsy links to put on my blog. Yeah, that's right. So until I find my day planner, you can just suck it.
a good plant
I promise to post pictures once I get my internet up and running at home. We're going wireless, baby! Makes me want a laptop real bad. I'm jealous of Jered's new
Sony VAIO, I just love that thing. We're still trying to come up with a name for her...(Well,
I think it should be a girl. He says it is male). But if it's a male 'puter he'll probably name it Ron, like the plant I gave him a few years ago, which, by the way, has since died. Don't worry, we gave it a proper burial. Actually, I think I was standing at Jered's kitchen sink, Jered being on the couch watching golf or something. I said:
"Jered, it's time. Ron needs to go."
He says: "Okay" (no remorse, whatsoever!--didn't even take his eyes off the television)
There was a pause, a moment of silence. Ron was a good plant. He was re-potted at least once, maybe twice, by Mr. Green Thumb himself. This was the moment of truth. Ron now looked like
The World's Ugliest Dog, only greener. Actually, I think that dog looks better than Ron did toward the end.
Plop....into the trash can Ron went, head first. I saved the pot though. What do you think? I'm made of money?
TSJ
Since my sophomore year in college, I've been in love with the artist
Terry St. John. His work is AMAZING, and he has had solo exhibitions at the
Hackett-Freedman Gallery in San Francisco. Check it out.
My Dearest Blog
Dear Blog (and Readers),
Today we embark upon what I hope is a loving and wonderful relationship. I realize that sometimes I may be up all night tearing my hair into shreads trying to figure out why you won't do what I want , but that is a risk I am surprisingly willing to take.
Now that we have that settled, I'd like to say hello to my readers. Hello Readers!!
Okay, so now to get down to the nitty gritty. This is a blog about myself and my artwork. It's not about YOU. If you wish to comment, please do--but keep the negative comments to a minimum, okay? I don't have time for your bitching.
If you don't like art, please excuse any of my unecessary banter about art, Hobby Lobby or how many stitches faster than you I can crochet. It's all relative, and if you don't like art, why the hell are you reading my blog?
Yes, I
can crochet faster than you. I can also beat you in Tetris, but people, this is not about Tetris, it's about art.
If you know me, you know this about me: I'd rather eat a junebug than shop at Hobby Lobby. And if you know me really well, you know that I'm kidding and that I would
marry Hobby Lobby if I could, if only they carried those damn Fiskar's acid free sticky squares that I like to use...
Love,
Laurel
