| A crime I did not commit |
[03 Feb 2005|06:59pm] |
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mood |
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 curious |
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music |
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April Stevens and Nino Tempo--Begin the Beguine |
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Anyone want to do some free framing for me?
(of artwork, not people)
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| Mama In 3-D |
[02 Feb 2005|06:57pm] |
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mood |
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 cold |
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What I really, really want is a pulley/light rail system installed in the middle of my stairwell, one affixed to the ceiling that I can hold onto with my hands to glide downstairs.
This has a little to do with my bathmophobia, but it would also be a very, very cool toy. ...And also another selling point for this house.
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| Digits / Fingers / Hotdogs |
[31 Jan 2005|05:58pm] |
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mood |
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 sick |
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I have a horrible cold that's symptoms began to manifest yesterday during my drive from Nashville. When I haven't been blowing my nose or sneezing I have been sleeping most of today.
Even though I made coffee earlier, I couldn't smell it at all from the bedroom upstairs, forgot about it and went back to sleep. I'm on my second cup now and it seems to be relieving some of my headachey symptoms which must have been caffeine withdrawal related instead of cold related. But even with the coffee I'm having now, I'll probably still have some withdrawal symptoms for another day or so. My friend Graham in Nashville makes stronger coffee than my father, and if you're familiar with any of my "fresh" stories about my dad's coffee, you know that's some feat! It's wonderful coffee, but that Sunday morning (after a couple of cups and a spirited late night game of Boggle) when I was going to sleep, I could feel my heart racing throughout my body, and still could feel it racing when I got up at seven am. But this did help me on my long drive home after a successful two weeks of touring about.
Earlier on Saturday when I arrived in Nashville after driving from my sister's house in Starkville, Mississippi, I realized that the address I had for Graham couldn't be right. I had the right street, but all the house numbers were three digits and the number I had was four digits. I did some deductive selection, and somehow picked the right house (I confirmed this by brazenly opening his mailbox and fingering his unopened mail). He wasn't home from work yet, so I hung out on the porch reading The Color Purple to his cat "Tiny Boops" until he got home. That evening we went to a birthday party and an art opening. The hostess of the birthday party (and birthday girl) is originally from Jackson, MS, and after she heard about the Hattiesburg song she requested a live rendition. I obliged as she accompanied me on the piano for the small audience remaining at the party. That was the first time I'd sung it for people since maybe last summer when I was at the Knitting Factory in NY, and somehow I remembered all the verses. When that party had concluded, we went to an art opening. There I talked to some really cool people, and even met somebody who knows someone I know from Hattiesburg!
Later in the evening, Graham told me the best saying I've ever heard regarding prayer: "Prayer's good and all, but if you're hungry, you don't lock yourself in a closet and wait for got God to poke a hot dog through the key hole!" It's a line "Catfish Don" or "Crawfish Dave" or some such performer said back in the day when we were at USM together. Don't know how the originator of the saying feels, but Graham said I can use it in my show if I need to. And I do.
BTW, that's not really a hot dog.
Tiny Boops looks so much like Pants. His fur is white and cream, but his cream fur is more yellow than rosy. But his markings are similar and he has the pink skin and the sweetest disposition. He even slept in the bed with me that night, which brought back bittersweet memories of my baby. It was sad and tender and somewhat healing to feel like I had one more chance to snuggle with my boy. That's still the toughest part about Pants' death; I never got to say goodbye and I still get torn up thinking about it. But Boops had a lot of love to give, almost like he knew I needed it.
Ok, I'll tell you another story later.
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| Misheard Lyrics: Some cinnamon gum / Correct Lyrics: I should have been gone |
[30 Jan 2005|10:23pm] |
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mood |
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 nostalgic |
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I've returned from my Journey. The end.
Ok, I'll tell you another story later!
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| There are no stupid questions, just find something for me to wear! |
[14 Jan 2005|09:26am] |
Whenever I get the big 'do/happy hair style at the salon, there seems to be some other female client there who just itches to comment on it. You know I love and live for the comments, but these sort run along the line of a backhanded compliment. It's really the only way some folks know how to communicate, so I allow the line of questioning.
The most common of these questions asked is, "How do you sleep?" As in, how do you sleep on all that construction? "I sleep just fine. What's worrying your conscience?" Whatever. Later on, a saleslady at Saks Fifth Avenue had better questions about my hair, including "Where did you get that done?" "Could I see the back?" and "How do you maintain that look?"
"Is that a wig?" is also acceptable.
So I had a big day out yesterday. Haven't done that by myself in ages. The smells of South Side brought me suddenly back to last summer; inhaling semi-truck fumes while watching yuppies and goth kids cross the street to avoid each other. I got on the bus for downtown, and went ahead and walked to the back as I usually do and didn't take one of the needy front seats. I was even careful to step over a ball point pen in the aisle. A pen in my path would have been a major disaster for my walking several months ago. And yesterday it was still a thorn in my OCD side. "Why is it there? Why doesn't anyone pick it up? Why doesn't it roll to the side under a seat?" "It's still in the path; someone could trip and get hurt!" I ruminated all the way across the Mon and halfway to the Boulevard of the Allies. I decided that on my way off the bus in a couple of blocks I'd pick it up, but the culprit who originally dropped it beat me to it. As the woman who was sitting to the left got up for her stop, she dropped yet another pen identical to the one in the aisle! I had a Miss Marple moment and felt like pointing my pointiest finger at her, "J'accuse!" But then she picked up both pens and made her way off the bus.
Maybe my doctor needs to up my Lexapro?
Went to Saks, Kaufmann's and Burlington downtown. That was a heck of a lot of walking for a woman like me who naps on the couch all day. But it was worth it--I found nothing! Ideally I'm looking for an outfit for next week's art opening reception, but I have too many issues to put a good look together right now. The outfit should be a long skirt or trousers to go with the sensible shoes I'll be tied to for a few more months. Or, maybe I could try finding sensible dress shoes that may or may not be comfortable (or fashionable)? But I don't like the way I look in flats and a knee length skirt, so NO to that anyway. I'd like an outfit in black, navy or dark purple. Also, my arms seem to have thickened over the past few months of walking with crutches, so my lower portion is still the same size, but none of the coordinating tops with sleeves are working. Maybe a muscle shirt? That's it, a wife-beater, black trousers, and lots of bling! Oy...
Anyone have a potato sack I can cut some head and armholes into? I'm going back to bed.
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| Exhibition of USM Art Alumni |
[11 Jan 2005|04:33pm] |
I started packing today in preparation to leave next Monday. Planning to spend a couple of weeks visiting family and friends along the way to Hattiesburg (where I'll spend most of my time). With all the energy I spent recently trying to get back on both feet, I feel like this is a jail break, a chance to fly a bit.
Pantheon Artists Guild:
Holly Marchman, Alehandro Wooten, Mara Hincher, Carla Carlson, Anthony DiFatta, Mandy Bucchanan, Roy C. Eure and Sharon Spell
Exhibition Title:
Saints, Spirits, and Dreams
Exhibition Dates:
January 18 - February 17, 2005
See Dr. Sharon "Mama" Spell's art
for this show here.
...And there...
at the Opening and Artist Lecture
Thursday, 1/20/05
4:00 to 6:00 PM
The University of Southern Mississippi
MUSEUM OF ART
118 College Drive
(601) 266-4972
Museum hours:
Tuesday through Friday
10 a.m. - 5 p.m.
Saturday, 10 a.m. - 4 p.m.
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| Meme taken from a bunch of folks on my LJ friends list: |
[08 Jan 2005|09:58am] |
Take the first sentence from the first post of each month of 2004. Make a paragraph. This is supposed to be what your year was like.
All in all the trip to Philadelphia went well last week. I have so many things to write about in this journal. Last week was rough, but I got through it. The Mofones practiced last night from 8 until 10:30. Oh, what a week! Got my hair did this morning, and it's looking pretty snazzy if I do say so myself. I wonder if Febreeze and Chanel will ever collaborate on a product. After all of last night's festivities, I still got up and went to work today. Yesterday I got my hair did BIG, then napped a lot. My leg hurts. Dear Voter-Drive Machine-Driven Telephone Operators, I already voted today. I've been keeping a brave face on the downward spiral that is my sense of humor for the past year or so, making limoncello out of lemonade, etc.
From the paragraph above, last year seems to be about perseverance, stating the obvious, and getting my hair did. A lot.
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[06 Jan 2005|02:43pm] |
Bright and early yesterday morning, my laig doctor told me I didn't need my cast anymore, and to start walking in two shoes again. So yesterday was the first day I wore the left shoe out of the pair of black shoes I bought back in November. I'm getting a blister on the top of my left foot, which is nice.
After my appointment, I replaced a piece of glass that was broken in some artwork at the security check at the airport back in November. It was a 6" x 14" pane, and was cut while I waited at the South Side Glass.
I was feeling pretty great all together yesterday that when I was at the post office, the clerk apologized for the credit card machine's taking so long while I waited. I hadn't even noticed.
Took a nap from 10 am - 12 noon. Rich came home to take Grassy to the vet for an FIV test. He had an infection a couple of weeks ago and we took him in for treatment. This visit was a follow-up to that one, making sure his vaccinations are working. They are. He's fine.
![[info]](http://library.vu.edu.pk/cgi-bin/nph-proxy.cgi/000100A/http/web.archive.org/web/20050206001256im_/http:/=2fstat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) mofones practiced last night, and it was the first time since September. It was obvious to all of us then that we had needed a break, and that we were all happy to be together again. We rocked.
( Cut off here. Really. )
I have a bruise on my left ring finger knuckle. Looks like I hit something, maybe during my sleep? I don't remember anything that would have led to a bruise on just one knuckle. Maybe it's for giving light knuckle sandwiches to folks. Or maybe it's forgiving.
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[06 Jan 2005|02:28pm] |
Poll #414046 Did you enjoy how my neck is broken in the photoshopped illustration in that last post?
Open to: All, results viewable to: AllDid you enjoy how my neck is broken in the photoshopped illustration in that last post?
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| I'm sitting on it. |
[04 Jan 2005|04:38pm] |
It's been a week since we got an exercise bike, and so far I've used it every day (for working out, not hanging up clothes, fyi).
Yesterday I started making plans to head south for a couple of weeks. I rented a car to drive home for a visual art show at my alma mater on the 20th. Along the way I hope to visit all three of my siblings and their families, as well as a few friends here and there.
The past couple of days have been pretty productive, days like I haven't had since the end of last summer. I even put a press kit put together and am checking into playing new shows! Yeah, this feels like waking up from hibernation. Now I just need to get rid of this extra fat storage--in my brain!
Speaking of healing health, I've suffered from Tinea Versicolor since I was a teenager. SUFFERED! It's all over my torso, down my arms and a little on my neck. This is part of the reason why I hate the heat and humidity so much, because it makes this condition worse. It doesn't itch or burn, but it's unsightly and makes me feel fungal. The best way to treat this is by spreading Selsun Blue on the effected area, letting it dry for several hours, then washing it off. I hate this. It stinks. Really, it smells really, really bad. I just treated myself for this condition today and...I stinketh.
If I a worse sense of smell, and were more into super heroes, I'd probably handle this ongoing situation better.
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| I was born in the year of the rat. / I am the man. |
[29 Dec 2004|07:28pm] |
On my way to work this evening I stopped in North Oakland to get gas for my car. There was a fellah with an authoritative voice standing next to one of the pumps, talking to another customer who'd just gotten out of her car. He was a white guy wearing khaki pants and a red plaid shirt, looked middle aged and clean cut. He was saying something to the lady about getting gas and and if she could pay with cash. He looked like one of the managers I'd talked to in the past at that station on an occasion when their credit card machines weren't working at the pump.
He was in speaking distance from me, so I asked if anything was wrong. He said yes and walked over to me, and then asked if I was going to pay for my gas with a credit card. I said that yes, I'd planned to...why, did I need to pay with cash? "Could you?" And then I heard the STORY about how he had a traffic court date today and he'd driven all the way from State College to pay a fine, but had forgotten his wallet and if he doesn't pay today by five his driver's license would be taken away from him...
"Wait a minute; you don't work here?"
"No, but if you could just pay me cash, I can put your gas purchase on my card and then you'll still get your gas and I can get some cash to pay my fine..."
"Ah. Oh. No. Thank you. No. I'm sure you'll be ok, but NO."
He seemed to linger by my car for a bit too long after that, but then soon found another mark getting out of his car.
This guy -- what dumb story if it's false, and what a dumb ass if it's true! He left the house for a 3-4 hour drive, and then a court date, without checking to see if he had his wallet with him first? And by the time I saw him it was already 4:40 -- did he really think he could collect enough money and get downtown by five? Couldn't he have paid this fine through the mail ahead of time?
Plus, he totally had the telemarketer/salesman banter down. That alone annoyed me. So I totally ratted him out to the employees working inside. They were outraged, "Panhandling? Unh-uh, we don't allow that!"
Last I saw as I was driving away was a young, dark skinned girl with a pretty waterfall-fall walking over to give him what-for. My work there was done; I'm a good tattle-tale!
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| I like to ride my bicycle. |
[29 Dec 2004|12:46pm] |
Rich's folks gave us a monetary donation (in addition to a few nice gifts) for Christmas. We decided to invest it into a gift for both of us, an exercise bike. We've had it for a couple of days now and it's just wonderful; it holds lots of my clothes for drip-dry convenience.
Had a few days off from work, but am back to the grindstone today through Friday. Yeah, I'm working during the day on Hogmanay. It's not a big deal since I'm not performing that night. It'll be odd not having a show on New Year's Eve--my first in many years. In fact, last year during December I had 12 shows booked during the month. This year I have no performances booked, and am feeling like a regular Jane Doe. It's a nice feeling, but honestly I hope it doesn't last much longer. I like being Jane Doe in moderation, not all the time, doll!
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| Radical Xmas Agenda |
[25 Dec 2004|08:38pm] |
Today so far I've managed to:
1. Bounce around Rich until he finally woke up! That pesky monkey's eyes were open, but he kept saying he wasn't awake. Open eyes = awake = time to open presents!
2. Eat.
3. Give Rich gifts to open, while he gave me gifts to open.
4. Eat.
5. Talk with my in-laws in Scotland via Skype.
6. Eat.
7. Talk with my folks in Mississippi via Telephone
8. Eat.
9. Delete nine user pics from my image group and either alter them or add new ones.
So, we're about to eat again. Just wanted to pop online quickly to wish you all Happy Holidays!
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| B B B B B B B |
[24 Dec 2004|01:33pm] |
I found out it was a misunderstanding between me and the guy who decided he'd rather ride the bus. If the pertinent little bits of information had been relayed at the time, there woulda never been a mix up, and the episode would have been over in about 27 seconds instead of 27 minutes (without the commercials).
LOU: Ted, why ya weavin' around like that?
TED: Huh?
MURRAY: Lou, just so you don't think you're shrinking, Ted is wearing his conquistador boots!
LOU: Aaaa hah! I don't like 'em.
TED: Well, I do Lou, and I'm gonna wear them.
LOU: Okay, as long as you don't lose your balance while you're on the air. And I mean physically, too.
This morning I went to my last physical therapy session for a while and was able to walk around the place without my boot! Pretty soon I can start walking in two shoes and with a crutch, then just in shoes--then tap shoes! Well, tap shoes are still a little ways away, but they get closer every day!
Last night was madgeylou's annual Eddie Vedder's Birthday Party. joline went with Rich and me to it, and I think we all had a pretty swell time. There was no Pearl Jam played while I was there (as far as I could tell). Joline and I held court in the kitchen. We decided to sit pretty and have the people come to us for visitation. I heart my Joline, and I heart courting her as well.
Trying to get up and down the stairs to that party was the bee word. Those bitches decorated with wire-strung garland up and down the banister, and I felt like I was clinging onto a porcupine for dear life trying to manage the steps. Busby Berkeley Bitches!
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[23 Dec 2004|03:49pm] |
Poll #407956 Stinky on the inside
Open to: All, results viewable to: AllWhich would you rather smell like?
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[23 Dec 2004|09:58am] |
Yes, I do look cute today in my new blue sweater and brown trousers, thank you very much. I'm also sporting a couple of new holiday pins (gifts from one of my bosses), and a necklace my mother gave me which once belonged to my Great Aunt Genera. There's also a menagerie of bling adorning my ears, wrists and fingers, but if I were to go into detail about them I'd worry one of you might show up to mug me in the parking lot after work.
The copier repair guy was here earlier. I was the only one in the office at the time, so he approached me to sign the order form. He's gone now, but his stench stained the air and still singes my nose hairs. Doll, regarding cologne: a little dab'll do ya (and apparently me, too)!
I opened one of the windows to help ventilate the place. I let some of the blustery wind and rain in, making some papers fly around and the french doors on the other side of the room slam shut. It was worth it; I almost can't smell the funk anymore.
It always makes me giggle when I mistype "and" as "nad."
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| Paris Hilton's New Scent |
[22 Dec 2004|01:52pm] |
Got my hair did this morning, and I don't mean to brag but it looks marvelous!
Since I've become a bit more independent recently I'm definitely feeling sassier and more attractive, but the reactions I'm receiving don't always mirror my feelings. Today I told my hairdresser about some recent run-ins, hoping for some empathy and/or guidance. Among the stories was one where I went shopping last Saturday night, and at the cash register I asked the sales clerk if he'd like a kiss. He stammered and looked embarrassed a bit before I let him off the hook and handed him a Hershey's Kiss [TM]. Geesh! What would have been weird about a little kiss anyway? It's not like I was wearing my mistletoe belt! We decided that his "embarrassed" look was actually a "pensive" look as he was wondering, "What Would Mr. Spock Do?"
Another incident happened one day last week. I had errands to run before work, and ended up an hour ahead of schedule. I decided to go ahead and drive to work early, but on the way I saw somebody I know waiting at a bus stop in East Liberty. He's a friendly acquaintance who's really the friend of a friend. Years ago I named myself the "Patron Saint of Free Car Rides," and this is in part how I got my nickname "Mama" ("Mama's Taxi").
So I pulled over and asked this guy if he'd like a ride.
"Ah, where are you going?"
"It doesn't matter, I can go anywhere."
"Ah, no thanks. I'll wait for the bus."
Snap! He'd rather stand on the street corner in East Liberty than enjoy a car ride with me? I didn't get it. Well, this second story made my hairdresser weep with laughter, "It's because you sounded like a WHORE!"
"Well, I didn't mean to. I simply meant that I had some free time on my hands and that I didn't mind offering to drive him somewhere."
"Yeah, but 'It doesn't matter?' That's what HOOKERS say!"
Oh my goodness, he was right. I was not being a saint, I was being a dumb hooker who didn't remember to get the money first. Two, almost three months out of commission and I'm back out in the world misstepping left and right. LITERALLY. But so what? There are other johns in the sea.
**
Grass has an infection on his left front paw. Rich took him to the vet yesterday where they lanced the infected part, then gave us a series of antibiotics to give him over the next couple of weeks. He's not allowed outside during this time, either. Yargh, he's going to be full of beans!
**
I think I finished all my holiday shopping today. Hope so anyway...
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[21 Dec 2004|11:03am] |
Poll #406868 Why do I live in Pittsburgh?
Open to: All, results viewable to: AllWhy do I live in Pittsburgh?
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| In case you didn't already know |
[20 Dec 2004|11:52am] |
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I love you guys so much!
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| Yay! Enjoy yourselves, it's a celebration! |
[19 Dec 2004|09:51pm] |
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I just finished updating my Live Journal User Pics.
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[19 Dec 2004|02:18pm] |
The past few days have been a total Mama workout! Friday I worked in the evening, then went to the Lava Lounge. Saturday I worked all day, then went shopping (which I haven't done in months so this was a super treat!) at three different stores, plus I stopped back at the Lava Lounge to retrieve the sweater I left there on Friday night. By the time I got home I felt very accomplished yet very exhausted. That was a lot of running around for a woman who's been used to napping on the couch all day for the past two months.
Rich and I slept in this morning. I actually turned in around 11:30 last night, then woke up for real around 10:30 this morning. It wasn't a straight eleven hour stretch of sleep though. I did try to wake up a couple times. TVland network shows a couple of my favorite shows ONLY on weekend mornings from 8-9; The Carol Burnett Show and the Flip Wilson Show. If I'm heading for work those days I usually end up missing one or the other or both. So this morning I intended to wake up and watch them both. I woke up a little before 8 and turned on the TV, but ended up falling back asleep. Didn't even dream about Carol or Flip, just missed them completely.
Rich and I eventually got our skates on (almost but not literally) and braved the oncoming snow for brunch at Gypsy. We each ordered the "It's a Wonderful Breakfast" and boy was it! I'm not going to be hungry again for... hours (like maybe 48). The "small" pancakes that go with that breakfast took up practically the entire plate!
Now we're back home and are working on home projects. Rich is alternately cooking and shoveling the sidewalks. I am alternately cleaning, wrapping presents and goofing around on line. I even just broke down and bought myself another paid LJ account and upgraded to add additional user pics. So this afternoon will be filled with Pledge, wrapping paper and Photoshop. Good times!
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| I can jump a hurdle, even with my girdle! |
[18 Dec 2004|09:21am] |
Another thing that happened at physical therapy yesterday is that there was a very fit, muscular guy working out there. This was odd, because most of the folks I see at PT are average looking and on the mend, wearing their Ace bandages and PF Flyers. This guy had on no bandages and was there for a hearty work out. He had some goon with him ("trainer," whatever) who set up hurdles for him to jump. Then he started jumping them, one right after the other in a row, boom, boom, boom, boom! What an ass (and yeah, what an ass)! I mean, there we all are barely able to walk, and he lines up his play-pretties and starts this dog and pony exhibition. Rub our noses in the fact that we're disabled why don't you, you monster! I tells ya, I expected him to start singing, "Anything You Can Do (I can do better)!"
**
And for those of you who still don't know, I struggle with sexual assault triggers every day. It's not something I talk about a lot; it's not funny. But I'm sensitive to touches and have more boundaries than I've ever had before. I'm agoraphobic and have PTSD and am on medication and in therapy for it. This makes me sad that I don't roll like I used to. But not even a year can go by where I can enjoy having control over who touches my breasts, and this royally fucks with my head.
The torture fest at the airport during Thanksgiving was that I was patted down at the security gate. I had a laminated note from my doctor stating that I have metal in my leg, but I may as well have been holding a piece of toilet paper for the amount of attention they gave it. With the announcement that, "I'm going to have to pat you down," the female security agent used her open hands to pat me everywhere on my arms and torso, patting my chest all around my breasts. I didn't know she was going to pat on my chest until she just started doing it; I didn't have a chance to say, "No, hey wait a minute..." And not only was I contained in a wheelchair at the time, but I was not allowed to defend myself. She asked if she was tickling me, and I started crying. Then she made me stand up (!) so she could wave a wand over the rest of my body. I thought she was just going to use the wand to begin with.
I've been through a lot of therapy and have learned how cope and respond when someone reaches out to grab my breasts (oddly, this has happened more than four sporadic times over the past four years). The thing about these new airport security measures is that I had no coping skills to deal with someone who has the right to touch me in my bathing suit zone "for my safety."
So after we returned to Pittsburgh I called PAAR. The woman I spoke with agreed with me that the airport's procedures needed to be changed. Even small things like using the back of the hand instead of the palm would have made my pat down seem less like a group grope. Also, if the security agent had given me some warning, saying, "I'm about to touch your chest," that would have given me some notice to either brace myself, or to say, "No." So PAAR is working to change the airport's security policy, and for that (and many other reasons) they rock.
In January I'm heading back to Mississippi for a show. I'll be driving.
This airport ordeal brought back my want to just stay home, to avoid interacting with people and their crazy, waving, wandering hands. I was super nervous on my first day at Physical Therapy, going to a place where I knew I had to let people touch me. But when I first sat down with my physical therapist, I told him that I wanted him to tell me when he was going to touch me before he did. He was cool with that, and over the course of these couple of weeks he's helped me more than just physically. This stranger's touch feels healing and helpful.
And the LUPEC party also did my heart good last night. It's been months since I've been out socializing. I did go to a party a couple of weekends ago, but that had a different feel to it than the Lava Lounge had last night. The joint was packed. You may have been there and I wouldn't have even seen you. But did see kdiddy and miss_holly_g and many other LJers and non-LJers. I tried to see everyone, and to speak to everyone I saw. It was very, very nice--and I may even go out again tonight!
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| I'm walking now without crutches or a cane! |
[17 Dec 2004|05:09pm] |
My physical therapist and I were talking about art a little yesterday, so I told him about my website and that I have images on it so he could see my art.
Well today I walked in for my session and he smiled in the way someone does when they uncover a secret about you. He said, "Hey Big Mama. It is Big Mama, right?"
I narrowed my eyes, "No, it's just 'Mama.'"
"I looked at your website last night. Wasn't there an adjective before 'Mama?'"
"I dunno...maybe 'The?'"
Then he said, "And what was with all those nude pictures on there? Were those of you?"
"There aren't any nude pictures on my website..."
Then he described them better and I realized he had been looking at the DUOS images from last year. "Oh, yeah...those are of me."
At first I thought he might have been offended, thinking he was going to look at some pretty art pictures and all of a sudden was thrust into tiddyland against his will. But then I think he was more offended that he was forced to look at nude drawings of me. "Were those of you? [vomits]"
(But I'll tell you, he can vomit as much as he likes just so long as he keeps giving me those ankle massages. Dang that guy can give a good foot rub! It doesn't just feel good; it feels healing.)
So, I don't know if he was really offended, or just surprised. Regardless, it sounded weird and felt awkward. [vomits]
I told my coworker this story when I got to work tonight, she she started laughing so hard she was crying. She said, "These stories are so funny because you're not large."
She said "stories," because this one reminded her of the story I told her about when I went to the hospital a couple of months back to have some xrays taken. I'd just come from the hairdresser's and felt like I was looking sharp. Rich drove me up to the emergency room entrance where a hospital employee met me at the car with a wheelchair. As I was starting to get out of the car, the guy looked at me and asked, "Oh, are you going to need an extra large wheelchair?"
"Ah, NO."
Whatever. I'm at work now and have a kicking outfit to wear to the Lava Lounge tonight. So Nyeh!
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| (mostly swiped from the LUPEC livejournal) |
[17 Dec 2004|02:26pm] |
There's a LUPEC holiday party tonight at the Lava Lounge on the Southside from 7pm-10pm. Each year we hold this party, we fete a Pittsburgh woman who's made history. This year's honoree is Mrs Jane (Jennie) Ferguson Wood, embalmer of ladies and children. Mrs. Wood was the first woman to get a mortician's licence in Allegheny County, in the 1890's, and she operated the funeral home in Oakland for several decades after her husband's death.
We hope you'll join us to see what delights Del creates in honor of the lady undertaker, as well as sample some of our most popular cocktails from parties and events we've held this year: The HopToad, The Cointreau-a-go-go, and (appropriately) The Call The Undertaker. We'll have party favors, cookies and treats, the traditional LUPEC propaganda, and sparkling and witty company. What more could you ask for?
Hope to see you there.
xoxoxo Brandy"You're A Fine Girl" Alexander (and Mama "Sapphi" Spell)
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| It's not bragging if it's the truth / tabula rossa |
[16 Dec 2004|12:58pm] |
I thought my work schedule said I was supposed to be here today from 5-9, but instead I misread it and was supposed to be here from 9-5. So I had a nice, leisurely morning of taking Rich to work, stopping by to visit some friends in Polish Hill, then going for physical therapy. ...Then getting home to a phone message from work asking where I was... Dang it. When I called back I apologized for being late because I was drunk in the gutter. I promised it'd never happen again (just as I did the last time).
**
My walking has improved vastly over the past week or so. I'm still styling in das boot, but I'm working my walk now. Working it! I put a lift inside my right shoe, so now my shoe and boot have my feet closer to being at the same level. Now my strut is more of a cross between speed-walking and the-I'm-not-drunk gait (that stubby, controlled walk you do when you're drunk and try to walk like you're still sober. Not that you would actually really know that.)
Over the past month I've gone from wrestling with crutches, to gimping, to limping, to waddling, and now I have this fantastic saunter! Mae West would be proud.
**
The short story regarding my palm pilot is that it died, then came back to life, then died again, then Meredith Baxter came into the operating room dressed as a nurse and yelled, "Nobody dies on my watch!" Then she lifted the palm pilot off of her watch and everything was ok. Well, it was ok except that my date book was wiped out. Now I have no idea where I've been for the last four years! I find it very therapeutic to dwell, so how am I supposed to dwell in the past if I can't see it anymore?
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| the bowl goes dark, then curtain! |
[14 Dec 2004|05:17pm] |
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One of the offices I work in has three walls of windows to peer out of, and to be peered into. I get nervous when I pay attention to the fact that I'm stuck inside a fishbowl all day. I try not to pay it too much attention.
It's after five, but I'm still here in the fishbowl. It's dark out, so I turned the overhead lights off so it won't feel like such a show. Rich will be picking me up sometime between 40 minutes from now and an hour from now. Tomorrow I don't have to be at work until later in the day, so I'll have some time to finish our holiday cards project.
The desktop version of my palm pilot died sometime back while I was recovering from the surgery. Didn't worry me too much at the time because I still had the information in my handheld version, plus I didn't have anywhere else to be except in bed or at the doctor's. Well today I tried to turn on my hand held palm pilot and it's on the fritz as well. Alls I have to say about that is a big phat PHOOEY!
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| Why did the chicken cross the road? |
[05 Dec 2004|10:35am] |
...because his watch was broken!
Oh, y'all; better days, better days. The past two days of rebuilding the humor house of cards is going well.
(Oh, and to K.D. who was at the wine party last night and who as I found out reads my livejournal: I had a great time visiting with you. Thanks. I think we both left in a whirlwind of a speedy getaway, but I don't remember if I officially said goodnight to you. Hope I did. xo!)
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| Not the long bone from the shoulder to the elbow. |
[02 Dec 2004|08:53am] |
I've been keeping a brave face on the downward spiral that is my sense of humor for the past year or so, making limoncello out of lemonade, etc.
Then I woke up this morning with an epiphany; make today the bottom of the limoncello barrel. Today is the day I totally lose my sense of humor. My thinking on this is that once I lose everything, I can rebuild. Tomorrow I'll rebuild.
So I waddled downstairs (I've made enough progress with my gammy leg that I don't limp anymore, I waddle like a pregnant lilliputian), and found Rich on the couch. Before I could make my announcement, he announced that he has a cold and is going to stay home from work today. I told him to fasten his Kleenex, 'cause his sick day is going to be an absolutely a-humorous ride.
So that's that. Today I officially have no sense of humor. Go ahead, make my day.
| | | | | | | | the mama spell is a-humorous | | brought to you by the IsAhumorous Generator |
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| I need coffee |
[29 Nov 2004|09:06am] |
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[27 Nov 2004|06:37pm] |
Rich and I returned from Mississippi last night around 8:30 pm. We left last Saturday, flying from Pittsburgh to New Orleans with a lay-over in Charlotte, then yesterday followed the reverse path. I made these plans which included this lay-over way before I broke my leg, of course. Didn't purposefully seek out more steps than necessary just to save a buck. At the time I was just... saving a buck.
I won't go into details here, but for now suffice it to say that it was a torture fest getting there and back. Regardless, I certainly was glad to see my family again. I have plans to return to Hattiesburg in January, and now I also have plans to drive to it instead.
Today found me at work in the back office, so I'm a little tired now. I've walked more this week than I have in the entire two months off my feet combined. I'll write more about my holiday and post pictures soon, though. Hope your week was good!
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| good news |
[18 Nov 2004|12:26pm] |
On Tuesday my friend Julie and I got manicures/pedicures. She reminded me that even though the front of the nail salon had a raised sidewalk that ramped up to the front door, there were two steps I'd need to tackle to get to the pedicure section. And when we were there I did it: up one, up two, then up into the chair! And I managed to step back down as well with no hassle.
Then later once Julie got me home I was emboldened to try going down the three back steps. I managed them successfully.
On Wednesday at my doctor's appointment, stepping up the step to his office was a piece of cake. I had a list of questions for him during this visit, like if I'd have to wear my walking cast to bed (I can take it off at night), and when do I get my pimp cane (whenever I want -- I'm thinking of something ala Moses or Bo Peep). And even though I was finally able to manage the step up to his office, I still asked him the last question on my list; Why is there no ramp going up to that office? That seemed to be the first time he'd considered that question, and he wasn't sure why not.
But the appointment went well, and I got some answers I was looking for. I'll be walking with this cast for the next six weeks, and can scale down from two to one crutch, then to a cane, then to nothing, as I feel comfortable. He also said physical therapy is an option, but I don't need it if I don't want it. I'm thinking I'll go for it because I definitely want to tap dance again.
Once I was back home from this visit, I decided I'd try climbing the stairs. Fourteen steps up to the top and I reached it! But that was enough for the time being. The next time I went downstairs to check the mail and wash the dishes, I went up and down the stairs on my celestial rear. Didn't want to overdo it. But I did do the dishes. That was the first time I'd done them in seven weeks. It wasn't much, but it made a difference to my sweet husband.
Learning to walk again is still a total body workout. The most stiffness and soreness is mainly in my shoulders and upper arms. It feels really good to stretch, and I'm hoping this discomfort will even out shortly.
Regardless, I'll be out and about soon!
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| Black and Blue from Head to Toe |
[16 Nov 2004|09:41am] |
I really love my new hair hue. It's blacker and bluer than usual, much like how I feel today.
There was a mandatory meeting at work yesterday, so I had to be there. I walked more for that meeting than I have since before my accident. Now that I'm walking on both feet and with crutches, it exercises my legs, my upper body and also my mind as I have to plot ahead of time how to go somewhere. For example, the following is what it takes for me to physically leave the house. Keep in mind that all this took a while to coordinate:
1. Scoot down the stairs on my celestial rear (one of my male coworkers really called my rear "celestial" yesterday. I wasn't sure whether to fall down laughing or kick him in the nads)
2. At the bottom of the stairs, I reclaim my crutches and walk to the back door. When I walk with crutches now, it reminds me of the chained gait of unrestful spirits recreated for radio in the 1920s. "Creak! Thud, thud!"
3. Navigate the back step from the back door to the sidewalk. Usually easy, but still requires thought.
4. NEW! Just a few paces on the path until the next obstacle: one step up. I used to depend on Rich hoisting me up this step, but now I can manage it on my own! I hold onto the middle of my crutches with my left hand, then grab onto the cement planter with my right hand, and up I go!
5. After I regain my balance on this step and put the crutches under my arms again, then I manage the paces along the path to the next obstacle: THREE STEPS UP. For this I must sit down and scoot up them backward. I don't have the coordination to manage more than one step yet--but I'm getting there.
6. And before I scoot up these steps, Rich has already climbed these steps and is waiting at the top with a plastic lawn chair. Once I'm at the top step, he brings the chair closer to me to hoist myself onto it from the top step. It's easier to scoot from the step to the chair, then stand up.
7. Once I'm standing again, I walk with the crutches through our gravel driveway (note to self: kill all gravel) to the car. Once I'm in the car, then I can breathe.
Returning home is the same kind of ordeal, only in reverse. Wait, I'm not in reverse, I still walk forward. ...Except for scooting backward up the stairs. You know.
And then when I was at work, I was walking. They did have a wheelchair for me to use to go to and from places on the campus, but I still did a fair amount of walking. By the time I got home last night my entire left leg from the knee down was numb and throbbing. I had trouble sleeping from being so stiff and sore!
Today I'm doing all this again, but for a manicure/pedicure appointment. It'll be worth the effort, but what I think I rather need today is a full body massage. Can that be done without having someone touch me? Like, the "I'm Not Touching You" full body massage, brought to you by your annoying little brother? If so, tell him to give me a call.
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| Thanks, indeedeee-do-do! |
[14 Nov 2004|06:24pm] |
Thanks joline for bringing me the hair product today! After I accidentally missed my hair appointment this week, it turned out that my hairdresser wouldn't be able to see me again until December. Gah! It's been maybe 8 years since I did my own hair, but I was able to draw upon that stored knowledge and made a plan. I knew I could depend on Joline to select the right girly hair product for me. And doll, did she ever! Gee, my hair looks terrific! So now only my hairdresser (and Joline) know for sure.
And thanks swomp for this link.
Today's milestone: I was able to step up one step. It was not a flight of stairs or even two or three steps, but one. That is awesome! I was able to get myself out of the house, then back in again, without depending on Rich to hoist me. Woot! I'm going to work tomorrow, and this time I know I'm up for it (plus I already have my outfit and lipstick planned)!
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| Benchmarks and New Art |
[12 Nov 2004|05:14pm] |
We don't have a shower in this house, just a claw footed bath tub. Since my accident, I've either been going without washing (good times!), sponge bathing with a wash cloth, or sitting high atop a shower stool (generously loaned to me from my friend Julie) in the bath tub. The shower stool was better than a sponge bath, but still not ideal since we had to put towels all over the dang place to prevent my cleaning more of the bathroom than my body.
Well, last night I was feeling strong and ready to move ahead with my recovery. I successfully lowered myself into the tub, bathed a good bath, then hoisted myself out again. I'M FINALLY CLEAN! I deserve a cookie!
And today I took pictures of my Ugg leg with close ups on the scars. Not ready to post them on line yet, but am ready to post images of some new art on paper instead:
( Pictures! )
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| rehash browns |
[11 Nov 2004|05:53pm] |
I'm watching The Nanny (while waiting for the Golden Girls to come on, of course), and they just said that "White-Out / French Tips" bit! This show was taped several years ago. And here I was thinking I'd come up with something new. I had no idea; I feel like such a hack. Shelly Hack.
At least I finished the big email interview today. Next I need to finish my art press kit, then write a couple of letters. Oh, and I may also do the big shave tonight. Maybe.
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| I had some carrot cake before dinner tonight |
[10 Nov 2004|09:11pm] |
And I have nothing else better to share with you people than my crabby outlook and my crabby health.
Oh, no wait, that was the ME of YESTERDAY!
Today the doc said that my leg is healing well and I can start putting pressure on it. So starting today I'll be walking on both legs, still with the aid of my crutches.
Tried it a little bit at home earlier and things went as expected. Took things slowly and cautiously, and suspect it'll be like this for a little while. There was of course some discomfort in my leg and foot, but nothing some Extra Strength Tylenol didn't remedy.
Good times!
This morning I also asked my doctor what the surgical wounds on my ankle are. When I first had my accident, there was torn cartilage & tendons and gunk inside my ankle and leg, so the ER doctor wasn't sure exactly what the extent of the damage was. As far as I could feel, anything below my left knee was jacked up. For the record, only my femur was broken, not my ankle. The doc said that the surgical ankle marks are from the microscope he pulled in and out of my leg to clean out the other damage.
**
I still haven't shaved my left leg below the knee. Especially with my scars, it's a good look and I'm going with it. Stopped shaving my right leg below the knee as well. I'll have my own natural Ugg boots this season!
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| Trip to the doctor's |
[09 Nov 2004|07:00pm] |
Tomorrow morning I go back to the doctor's office for a check-up. He's an orthopedist, and has a step going up to his office -- no ramp. Also, the sidewalk leading up to his doorway is nice and cracked from start to finish. Guess he must like me! One more slip and I'm his patient forever!
I have to depend on Rich to hoist me up that step, or any step. Even though I'm pretty good walking on the crutches now, just one step is a major obstacle.
It stinks not be able to move as I wish without someone touching me--hoisting me. I don't mind Rich helping me, but no one else. Still am dealing with triggers of PSTD. That was the most fun part of being in the hospital, telling and retelling the staff on each new shift why I take Lexapro. "It's situational." Now don't touch me, you vulture.
I'm not bitter, just tired of being immobile in this city of cracked sidewalks, steps and hills. For the noticeable deficit of young people, and surplus of elderly folks, Pittsburgh is amazingly difficult to navigate on less than two legs. We may not be the hip capital of the world, but are probably the broken hip capital.
Regardless, I'm hoping my doctor will have some good news regarding when I can start putting pressure on my left leg again, and when I can start walking. I have so many cute fall and winter clothes and it's a crying shame you can't see them on me out in public!
I'm looking forward to getting a pimp cane.
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| Here's my new art, y'all! |
[05 Nov 2004|05:34pm] |
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Rich's parents were here from Scotland this week. I adore them. They got in on Monday and just left this morning. It'll be a couple more weeks before they return home. They rented a car today and are driving to Lexington, then Nashville, Branson, Oklahoma City, then eventually hitting Las Vegas before flying back.
They were here coincidentally for my art reception on Wednesday. They seemed to have a good time meeting my friends and acquaintances. Personally, it was good for me to be able to get out of this house and see so many folks. My leg still prohibits me from getting out much, but I'm ready to start being more sociable.
This art show will be up through December, so please do go see it in person. If you can't, here it is online.
xo!
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| notices |
[02 Nov 2004|05:23pm] |
Dear Voter-Drive Machine-Driven Telephone Operators,
I already voted today. Please stop calling me. Also, don't touch my arm, my shoulder or anywhere in my "bathing suit zone," or especially my broken leg*, but do touch me on the inside:
WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 3
Opening reception of
Touch Me On The Inside: New Paintings by Sharon "Mama" Spell
at Red Room Cafe and Lounge
134 South Highland Avenue, Pittsburgh, PA 15206
opening reception 11/03/04 from 6-9 pm
show runs November 3- January 2
Phone: 412-362-5800, Fax: 412-362-1536
Also showing during this time: mosaic and fiber arts by Stevo Sadvary http://www.stevosphere.com
Joining us this evening for Historical Fun will be LUPEC (Ladies United for the Preservation of Endangered Cocktails)
also this night: Free Tarot Readings by The Elyria Tarot Co.
The Elyria Tarot Co. has been offering reasonably priced, responsible Tarot readings to The People since its incorporation in 1982. ETC's patented "Flake Factor Zero" Tarot method ensures you get all the benefits of the Tarot with none of the annoying ego tripping, new-age blather, or useless scare tactics so common with less experienced readers. Insert lame joke about "knowing" you will be satisfied with ETC here.
xo,
Dr. Mama Spell, whose paid LJ account has expired.
*My left foot will still be in a cast for this event, so come to see me change "lame" into "lame' " (or "male"...).
"Oh, my dear, it's a buffet. I have chicken a la king. I have cold turkey. I have hot rolls. I have cold ham. I have a big watermelon, all filled with fresh fruit." -- Perle Mesta
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| Random thoughts |
[26 Oct 2004|07:25pm] |
It's been a month since my accident. Last night was the first time I've washed my broken leg and foot in a month. Last week the doctor sawed the cast in half in order to take out the staples in my skin. Afterward he reattached the back portion of the cast, wrapping it with a couple of ace bandages to fashion a make-shift cast until I get my next one. He said when I was ready that I could take off the bandages and start washing my leg and foot again. I didn't have the heart to look "down there" until Sunday. Last night Rich helped me unfurl the wrapping after I hoisted myself onto the shower stool in the tub. With my right foot already in, I drew a bath. Then as the water rose, I gently lifted my left leg, still bruised and scarred, shrunken and somewhat atrophied, into the tub. Having both legs bare and together again was a welcomed but odd sight. Looking back and forth from leg to leg, I thought, "King Kong, Faye Ray. King Kong, Faye Ray. King Kong, Faye Ray..." I'm not yet ready to shave the broken leg. They're a timeless pair.
It's also been a month since I've had any alcohol. I kinda miss it--especially the wine with dinner. But I also don't miss it. I may have to have some next week when my inlaws are here visiting from Scotland. That'll take some planning, however, because I don't want to drink then walk with crutches. I'll have to wait for my hooch until I'm safe in bed at night, and by then it hardly seems worth it.
My paid live journal account is about to expire. Since I'm technically unable to work, I may have to let it lapse a couple of weeks.
On Saturday I handed over 12 new works of art on paper, framed and labeled, to the coordinator of the Red Room show. The opening reception for this is a week from tomorrow, Nov. 3. You know I'll be posting more info about this later (or go ahead and check my schedule page to learn more now).
Today I started 19 new small art pieces on mat board. These are for a group show at my alma mater, USM, in January.
I'm expecting three packages in the mail sometime this week. That's encouraged me to start exercising more, crawling up and down the stairs to check the mailbox. Goodies inspire me.
The kitties have pretty much gotten over the novelty of my being home all day. They're no longer bugging me to feed them in the morning, finally figuring out that I'm not currently their breakfast chef. They circle the wagons around Rich instead, who's been sleeping downstairs on the futon since my accident (so that he won't kick me in his sleep). Grass has pretty much taken to sleeping with Rich. Ass still sleeps up here, but she's not nudging me to wake up first thing in the morning. Today I slept until nine! Imagine!
Rich should be home soon.
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| That robe hides a mulitude of sins! |
[15 Oct 2004|11:45am] |
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Litmus test... litmus test...
When President Bush mentioned that he didn't want to put supreme court judges through a "litmus test," I realized it'd been a while since I heard that term. I was having trouble placing what kind of test that was, until I remembered-- that's the test they'd run on those antiperspirant commercials back in the '80s-'90s. You know, to test how the deodorant is strong enough for a man, but made for a woman? They'd run the product over litmus paper to test pH balance and BO. Right? Isn't that what it is?
Guess President Bush doesn't mind if he nominates stinky judges.
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| They shoot horses, don't they? |
[08 Oct 2004|02:37pm] |
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I just got a distressing phone call from a friend. She's in the hospital after being recently diagnosed with HIV. She said that apparently she's carried this for the past 12-14 years and didn't even know it.
So I'm sitting here in bed crying my eyes out. Not so much for the diagnosis, but from the shock of the news. It's certainly not a death sentence, but the managed care costs that will accrue over the years will get crazy.
Since I broke my leg, Rich and I keep exchanging gratefulness that we chose the higher costing health insurance through his work. At first when he approached me with this idea, I was against it because we're both young and in good health. I thought it was wasted money each month. But I went along with his decision, and now after these couple of weeks with my leg problems, this primo insurance has come in handy.
But it doesn't pay for everything. As part of my at-home treatments, I have to give myself anti-coagulant shots in the belly every morning and night for two weeks. Rich got the prescription filled Wednesday, and he was surprised at the amount he had to pay! His primary experience with health care was back in the UK with socialized medicine. The entire notion of paying for health care is still new to him, and he figured that with the good health insurance our expenses would be totally covered. Almost, but not quite. Our cost was only 1/6 of the total amount and was still a pretty penny.
I'm still grateful, though. If I had broken my leg a year and a half ago when Rich was unemployed and neither of us had health care, I would have been up "you know what" creek without a paddle. Instead of anti-coagulant injections, I’d be sprinkling crushed aspirin on my stump.
I’m a little anxious to see how the hospital bills turn out. I'm also a little anxious to see how the Presidential debate turns out tonight. I'll be voting with my leg come November.
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| I'm back |
[06 Oct 2004|05:45pm] |
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Just returned home from the hospital a couple of hours ago. The procedure I thought was going to only be a few hours turned out to last two and a half days. Well, the actual procedure wasn't that long, but my recovery was. On Monday while I was under anesthesia, the doctor saw that he could go ahead and fix the broken pieces of my leg, which turned out to be three places instead of two. He cleaned up the oggies, put in three pins and hooked me up to a morphine dispenser. Ahhhhh, morphine.
Stayed there two nights and then this morning I got a big cast and approval to go home. I'll write more about it all later. I'm a little tired now.
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| Gettin' Ready to Git |
[03 Oct 2004|11:40am] |
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Ass and Grass seem to be getting used to my being in the bed all day. They've stopped harassing me for food in the morning and they both come to cuddle with me in the afternoon.
But I did emerge from the bed to welcome visitors yesterday. Some friends of ours came over for dinner and I managed to get myself down the stairs to sit with them in the living room. Today I'm going to stay in the bed as much as possible and not move my leg. Either of them.
In preparation for surgery tomorrow I cleaned off all my nail polish. They need to be clear so the surgical staff can see if my nails turn blue during the operation. In this same vein, I'm not supposed to wear any make-up at all tomorrow. But I am planning to hand Rich my lipstick to hold until I'm out of the recovery room. You know, so I can quickly apply it in case the paparazzi are waiting to capture some tacky post-surgery photos.
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