Montly archives
Sophie's Secrets
New design... for now. I've got a couple simmering that I just haven't bothered to post and uh, well, I'm lazy. Blue is soooooo last month. Enjoy the goodness of autumn colors!
BaD Hair DaZe
One more pimpage tonight. My Super Special Sis-In-Law wanted a new design... she supplied the image, I supplied the color.
Go say hi, won't you? (and enjoy the Tommy-isms; he *is* the absolute cutest!!!).
I am not my jalapeno cream cheese
Ok - do you like your orange juice with or without pulp? This must be a very serious question if I've actually taken the time to write it up in my blog. But really. I've been seriously drinking orange juice for the past 2 1/2 months and I *still* can't decide if I'm a pulp or non-pulp person.
Pulp is too much. No pulp is too little. Medium pulp is just a weird texture. I'm like the snobby Goldilocks of orange juice. Would someone please make me the perfect OJ cuz that'd be just great *thankyouverymuch*.
I was reading Marua's site this morning and she talked about things that are / were her favorites and how, in general, people get defined by their favorites. And I started thinking that maybe she has a point. I mean, how many times have you gone somewhere and had someone ask you 'What you do for a living?' Which totally cracks me up - as if anyone can judge me by my fucking job. It's only a job!!! Which is made even funnier cuz how often do I talk about my job around here? Um, yeah. That's what I thought. On the other hand, if you asked my work colleagues they'd probably tell you that my job *is* my life. Sometimes it feels like a double identity but this is just me.
Then I started thinking about some of my favorites...
Tori Amos is my favorite musician. Klimt's 'The Kiss' is my favorite painting. Doisneau's 'The Kiss' is my favorite photograph. The Nikon D70 is my favorite camera. 1600x1200 is my favorite resolution. 'The Mists of Avalon' is my favorite book. The everything bagel is my favorite bagel. Jalapeno cream cheese is my favorite bagel spread. Big Bowl's kung pao chicken noodles is my favorite kung pao. The Tourist Guide is my favorite tourist guide. Web design is my favorite career move. Stockholm is my favorite big city. And while you might think pink is my favorite color (shocking, I know) you'd probably be wrong. Because overall I think that wine is my favorite color. A deep, beautiful, warm red. It's not a color I use very often and I don't even decorate with it, but damn it's classy when it's used well. And using the phrase 'on the other hand' is one of my favorite ways to hum and haw.
I'unno. I don't think my favorites define me... but they're definitely colorful, rotating facets.
Go on then. Tell me some of your favorites.
DJ mDogg in the hizzy
This morning I threw an old, unmarked cd in to my car's stereo and Lo! College music fun was had. Too much fun not to share with all ya'll. Behold, Sophie's senior year (or at least one of them anyway) college music sampling. Right click, save-as, or a pox of rolled-up jeans and big hair on all of you!
Sneaker Pimps - Spin Spin Sugar
Olive - You're Not Alone
White Zombie - Blood, Milk and Sky (Miss September Mix)
Solar Twins - Rock the Casbah
Sneaker Pimps - Half Life
Counting down the days
Earlier this week I officially signed up for and am now *competing* for my 2005 novel. My friend's Steve and Joe are officially in as well (Cen-Truck the half-man half-truck screenplays are apparently on). It feels kinda weird not to have a title for my book...
Which is kinda strange if you think about it cuz wouldn't it be weirder that I still don't have a plot, story or characters? Um, yeah. Not so much. As I perused the forums on the site today people seem to really be in to the whole "title" thing. Maybe my book should be about an author who can't come up with a title for her book.
Still not 30 - w00!
In an attempt to sound as non-melodramatic as possible I really do have the worst birthday karma ever. Extraordinarily good things have happened in birthday's past, but never without equally extraordinarily bad things happening shortly thereafter. It's just been my lot in life, which is why this birthday was going to go completely under the radar. Or at least as much as possible since I'd prefer fantastically horrible, ridiculous things to keep themselves safely out of drop-kick range for their own safety (not mine). I'm a cold, hardened bitch who gets her way now and if fate tempts me I'll get in a big ol' punch up with it. But this year... this year it seems the tides are turning. Baby lambs are frolicking, the heavens are opening, and gifts doth bestow themselves unto me.
First we have the small matter of my very best friend calling me up a few weeks ago to tell me that she booked a plane ticket for me to visit her in Florida. For my birthday. IN FLORIDA! Where the sun is shining, the martinis are fresh, and always served by young, straight versions of Ricky Martin who just want to smile and tell me how magnificent I am in as many languages as they can muster. Which usually isn't English but it doesn't stop me from enjoying the compliments anyway. Is she not the most beautiful, amazing, witty, gorgeous, god damned magnificent best friend a girl could have or what?!?!
4 weeks until my birthday.
And then a week later Steve picks me up so we can go shoot a local waterfall, and sitting on the passenger's seat is a gift! JUST FOR ME!!! And it's wrapped in *pink* tissue paper. And placed in the cutest little pink stripey bag you ever did see. It turned out that he gave me the wooden artist's model I've always, always wanted. The one he has had to listen to me whine about wanting every time we went curtain shopping at Ikea. It might have been a self-serving gift so he didn't have to listen to me whine any more, but he knows me well enough by now to know that it would take an act of the Mother Goddess to shut me up. To top it all off he took me to Big Bowl for dinner. And you bitches know I looooooove me some Big Bowl.
3 weeks until my birthday.
Yesterday I'm at work, listening to my pretty pink iPod Ella, COMPLETELY zoned out and in another world as I'm coding a new site (as one often is when they're coding in another language and simultaneously listening to the groovy sounds of Christina Aguilera) when my friend Jeremy peeks his head around the corner of my desk. Which actually made me yelp a little bit as I tried not to pee my pants from being startled out of my web-designing-reverie. I was also slightly surprised to see him since I was under the impression that the consulting work he does here once a month was handed off to someone else a few months ago (as if Jeremy could keep himself away from all the coolness that is me and my colleagues ;). In my fit of astonishment I started giggling (well, I can't be always counted on to form whole sentences) and he beckoned me around the corner where the other 3 designers were standing around the table. A table with a BIG BEAUTIFUL GIFT in the middle of it JUST FOR ME!!! A gorgeous white box adorned with pink polka dots and a beautiful pink bow. And I bet you'll never in a million years guess what was inside. Never, EVER. In the interest of time - it was a pink baseball hat with the word 'Nikon" embroidered on the front. Ha ha ha, aren't my friends the COOLEST?!
2 1/2 weeks until my birthday.
As my brother asked the other day, "What the fuck? Is this birthday month for Margaret???" Yes Paul. It is my birthday month. I'm so cool that my birthday gets celebrated for an entire month. Even the baby Jesus couldn't pull that shit off.
Walkering right along then
Last night I hung out with one of my very best and very oldest (very oldest?) friends: Shea. Shea and I have known each other since we were 8 years old and we have a lot of history together. She knows that I had curly hair, braces, and gangly limbs all at the same time. She knows that when I was in 8th grade I had a dream that I got up in the middle of the night and went to the bathroom and ended up peeing in my bed thereby giving me a complex about using the bathroom in the middle of the night (and always, always pinching myself when I do it JUST to make sure I'm awake). She knows every single one of my ex-boyfriends (tragically). She was my co-conspirator when we broke in to the empty house next to mine. She used to make tissue flowers with me and decorate them with crayon shavings and nail polish. And she is the *only* person in this world that can make me laugh so hard my chest hurts. Every. Time. And the only reason I know this is cuz last night in the midst of my chest pain I exclaimed, rather loudly, "You are the only person that can make me laugh so hard my chest hurts!" Best friends are the coolest ever.
A few nights ago she called me up and said the Walker (art gallery) has Free Admission Thursday Nights sponsored by Target. And she was all, "Let's go!" And I was all, "Totally." So in 30-something degree weather we walked over to the brand spankin' new, spiffily redesigned gallery. Now. I live 2 blocks from the gallery and when they decided to remodel and put on a huge new addition I thought that seemed like a cool opportunity to construct a little somethin' something' Minneapolis could love-on and call its own squishy. And then I started to see this huge brushed-metal eye sore erected before my very eyes. Honestly? I don't love the design. It's a big, brushed-metal tank that looks like it constantly needs to have its construction signs re-barracaded around it. You know? It's a freagin' art gallery and that's the best they could come up with? I'm disappointed.
Digressing.
So we walked in to the art gallery and followed a bunch of people up the stairs (first mistake). And... then up some more, twisted and narrow stairs. To... a dead end (second mistake). Back around the corner to... an overpriced Wolfgang Puck restaurant full of snobby people staring at us over their wine (third mistake). Ohhhhhkay. Continuing on up the stairs to a restricted area (fourth mistake). Oops. Back down allllllll the stairs and wandering towards another long hallway. Aha! Galleries. Apparently the person who designed the building forgot to get off their acid trip before submitting the design for approval. Maybe if I had been drunk or high - or perhaps drunk *AND* high - things would have been clearer.
This is the part of the story where I could go in to excrutiating detail about all the art I saw, but man oh man. Ok some of it was very cool. Chuck Close had an exhibit of self-portraits that was really groovy. But then... then things started to get a little weird. And by weird I mean "look at this painting of a vertical black line - the artist is making the most powerful, poignant commentary about the social injustices inflicted upon women this side of the 20th century I've ever seen." Ok, has it escaped everyone's attention that IT'S A BLACK LINE! I might be exaggerating a little, but maybe I'm in the wrong profession cuz I didn't get 'art' last night. Here was a photographer, writer, and designer walking around an art gallery with an interior designer and framer - AND WE DIDN'T GET IT! That's when our long history of best frienditure paid off. We looked at each other, did the eybrow lift, and booked through the remainder of the exhibits.
And proceeded to an Indian place around the corner from where I live (which became the scene of the 'I laughed so hard my chest hurt' incident). Never been there. Always wanted to go. Seemed like a good idea at the time. At least in the food arena we weren't let down. Our waiter was a trip and totally gave us free stuff which didn't hurt either. But listening to Shea tell the story about how she had an appointment with a new gynecologist a few weeks ago, going to her appointment, and then being confronted with a really gorgeous, good-looking, youngish, dark haired doctor was golden. I think she actually turned a little red as she re-told the story.
Sorry Shea, but that's going in the book if I can manage it.
Little words
Eragon - CHECK!
Eldest - CHECK!
Neverwhere - CHECK!
The Pirates in an adventure with Ahab - CHECK!
Now the delicate question of what I read next arises. Because I only have 3 good days of reading this week before I'm off to Miami for the weekend. And the only reading I'll do once I get there will be the drink menus. Even then I'll probably just shmooze the bartenders to give me something special instead of actually doing the reading. The the 3 good days of reading I have early this week will probably be spent packing, doing laundry, getting the cameras ready, and deciding if I should bring 7 or 8 pairs of shoes.
Then I get back from Florida and it's 3 days of more laundry, cleaning, detoxing before Raych is in town. So I can pretty much guarantee that after Tuesday I'll read all of *nothing* for the next 2 weeks besides whatever gets done on the plane.
So do I begin the book I'm DYING to read, which is approximately 100 lbs., 1000 pages of small print, marketed as a door-stop double, and most certainly won't get finished before November 1st... or do I pick something small, that can easily fit in my bag, that WILL get finished before November 1st? But how can I forsake Diana Gabaldon for... for... for... Neil Gaiman again? I mean, TWO NEIL GAIMON books and I still won't have popped open her latest. Dearest me.
Shit.
I'm sorry Diana but it's all I can do to keep myself from bringing you to Miami. Few people know this but I'm fastidious about the care of my books. I like them to look like they haven't been read when I'm finished with them. Fresh looking, fresh smelling, perfectly perfect and uncreased... and if you come to Miami with me there will be sand all up 'n in your shit.
I suppose it's been decided you will be my "read" while I'm writing my novel. And that's quite an honor if I do say so myself.
(No comments about how I need a life will be tolerated. Not even for a moment. A) Steve's worse than a hermetic librarian. B) Keira's already got the penthouse suite at rehab reserved. C) Raych is initiating intervention in T-2 weeks. And D) You'll have to catch me in Miami first.)
Dear Crumpler, send me free stuff?
Today we need to discuss the all important subject of camera bags. And believe me, this subject would be important to you too if you'd already been through 2 bags to your disliking, both of which are neither stylish nor comfortable. Nor useful (which you'll notice is 3rd on my list of important things in a camera bag - kind of like shoes... and men).
When I was 20 I asked for a 35mm SLR camera for Christmas so I'd have something decent to take with me when I moved overseas. In case you're not the photography type, that meant I wanted a film camera (digitals weren't even out yet) and I wanted it to be the kind of camera that, when you looked through it, you were actually looking through the lens via an elaborate system of smoke and mirrors. I ended up getting the Canon Rebel G (thanks to Andre Agassi and all his hair) with 2 lenses, but the kicker was that I didn't realize I needed a camera bag until I had all my loot. By then I had spent all my alotted Christmas money and had an "Oh shit" moment. Um, yeah. Carrying around expensive camera equipment with a plastic Target bag might work for some people, but not so much me.
Luckily my parents are really cool and they gave a poor, starving college student enough money to buy a cheap camera bag. And by cheap I mean the smallest bag in the store that, when jimmy'd with a little velcro, was juuuuuust big enough to hold my stuff. Not only was it the smallest and cheapest bag in the store, it was the ugliest. Forest. Green. And when you pick up the strap it falls 90 degrees in the wrong direction. Why Tamrac built a top-heavy camera bag that can't even be held up-right is BEYOND me. DO YOU HEAR THAT TAMRAC? WHY???!!!1oneone
But this is the camera bag I got. And I was 20. And pleased. And there was much rejoicing.
When I bought my Nikon D70 I realized I was big enough to buy a *new* camera bag!!! Cuz when you're the youngest of 5 children you're never big enough to do ANYTHING (which, just short of a therapist, gives you a pretty sufficient complex about proving everybody wrong as often as possible), but I had a moment where I was like, "Oh my god - I'm 27 years old and I can buy a new camera bag if I want to. SWEEEEET!" So I bought a tall bag (cuz wide ones are totally impractical) that holds my 2 camera bodies, 3 lenses, pocket digital, 2 lomos, a lens hood, and as much film, batteries, and memory cards as my heart desires. It's black and grey too, which is nice. Or nicer than forest green anyway, but we're still not at burgunday, baby blue, or even pink.
The newer bag is great for long trips because it's protective, waterproof, durable, holds all my shit, and isn't forest green (sorry, I just can't let that go). But I would say the majority of my shooting is done locally, where hauling a huge-ass bag around isn't practical (The Tourist Guide's head is about to fall off because he's shaking it in agreement so enthusiastically). The smaller bag is okay when I put it inside my shoulder bag (so it doesn't fall its top-heavy ass over), and this solution means I also have compartments to store away my iPod, keys, money, lipsticks, black books, gum, and everything else women need when they leave the house (save the extra pair of shoes). But frankly, I bought the shoulder bag for $9.99 at Target and it's real, real uncomfortable after about an hour.
Yes, I've thought all this through once or twice.
I'm leaving for Florida on Thursday and am struggling with what to bring. Yes, the big one for transport purposes. But no I don't want to be walking around South Beach with that fucker all messing up my style 'n stuff. And if I'm gonna be walking around for extended periods of time the shoulder bag is gonna leave a nice, red mark right over that which my tank tops reveal. I'm sooooooooo in love with Crumpler bags, which is a good solution, but since I already own 2 bags that I don't love I'm not entirely certain I want to drop that kind of kizzash on a stylish bag I can't even manhandle first.
Ugh. How can buying thousands of dollars in camera equipment be easy in comparison to buying a fucking bag? I mean really. Seriously.
A slip of the mind
I have a few things on today's agenda. First, the subject keeping you all on the edge of your seats: what did I decide to do about a bag for all my photography shit equipment? So glad you asked. About an hour ago I purchased a black (did you get that? - BLACK.) "messenger" bag. It's fairly small, vinyl, and there's absolutely nothing protective or secure about it. But it will be PERFECT for holding Ella-The-iPod, keys, money, lipstick, and gum as it's slung around my shoulders while I high tail it around Miami and Orlando shooting photos. Believe me, tonight there will be some reasonably sound sleeping up in this biznatch thanks to my reasonably cheap solution.
Whew.
Second, it seems not everyone is aware that I'm going to be in Florida for 4 days this weekend. Which is terribly odd since IT'S ALL I'VE BEEN TALKING ABOUT FOR THE PAST 3 WEEKS!!! Fret not, loyal readers, the daily photos will continue in my absence thanks to the publishing prowess of Señor Prakope (it also appears that not everyone is aware I post a new photo everyday - see on the side where it says "Daily Photograph? Um, yeah - click it). I also have one single solitary guest-poster lined up who always seems to generate more traffic for this site in his few days of posting than it's possible for me to *ever* generate. No matter how many semi-nude photos I post or how much I talk in obscenities. This guy has me beat. ON MY OWN SITE. In case you don't know who I'm talking about, stay tuned to find out. He'll be showing up starting on Thursday.
In the event you'd like to guest post as well leave a comment or email me and I'll hook you up. Just not too much swearing, 'kay? That's my job.
Third, I have a very serious confession to make and am burying it under item number 3 in the hope that you stopped reading after I started talking about my bag, baby. Whew, okay here it goes. I am seriously, seriously addicted to the hollywood gossip columns online. I've found heaven in the form of the gossip blogs, which I justify as okay because I don't have a TV and therefore don't have any other source of music industry news. But that's all a huge, screaming LIE! so that I don't feel bad reading the filth I read.
Okay okay okay. Ask me anything. I know all the dish about TomKat and the talk about her belly button, Sienna and Jude - OVER!, and Britney's impending divorce. It's a damn dirty lie that I live, not telling *anyone* about my habit that is, but today's the first step to recovery. (And in case you were wondering, not even The Tourist Guide knew, and he knows all. Boy did he tick me off yesterday when he tried to convince me that *HE* knew more about Jude and Sienna than I did. Ok look, just because you're English doesn't mean you know all the goss. He thought they were over a year ago for cripes sake. Ha ha ha ha *gasp* ha ha ha, so deluded.)
But just in case you want to be addicted to gossip too, here are my absolute, most favorite, time-tested sources for all the goss.
- The Superficial, which is by far the most extreme, most hilarious, and most favorite of all my dealers. Soooo NSFW but this guy cracks my shit up.
- D-listed, which again is pretty out there but obviously it's the comedy in the joke that is Hollywood that gets me. Seriously. If Britney can't realize what a huge joke her life is it's the responsibility of sites like D-listed and The Superficial to keep the rest of the real world anchored in, well, the real world.
- Martini's, Persistence, and a Smile, which is a great source of hollywood news, straight up without all the commentary. But her occasional one-liners *are* pretty good, I must admit.
- Alternate #1 - A Socialite's Life, which is somewhere in between D-listed and Martini's.
- Alternate #2 - Celebrity Baby Blog, which is absolutely the darkest of my bookmarks and one I won't allow myself to look at more than once (okay maybe TWICE) a week. Cuz seriously, celebrity babies?
Now's the time to forget you read the last few paragraphs, but before you do so remember: Don't. Judge.
We're reading, and we're reading
In case you hadn't heard, Google came out with their own online RSS reader at the end of last week. Which is cool cuz I've been using Bloglines to an extent but think it could use some serious work.
And while I'm not overly pleased with the new google reader (slow, slow, and moooooooreeeee sloooooowwwwww) I do like it better than bloglines so far. At least I think I do. My guess is that it's going to catch on like Gmail and Google will start iterating the shit out of it with improvements galore. So it has that going for it.
("Iterating the shit", it's an industry term.)
I'm real real interested to see where they take this whole development thing, because the reader account is tied to the Gmail account - and knowing Google they'll get us one. piece. at. a. time. Before you know it we'll all be sucked in to their Passport™ vortex. Only it won't have a stupid name like Passport, it'll have another cool name ripped off from The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. And all it'll take is one depressed computer to bring our entire world to a screeching halt in the blink of an eye.
I'm just sayin'.
[Editor's note: I should add that I managed to crash my entire website when I posted this, get this, because of a question mark. No shit. Um, yeah. Movable Type - need a new QA person? What did I say about one depressed computer 3 sentences ago???? THE END IS NEAR!]
Sayonara my northern friends
Alrighty fair readers, this is it. I'm just about packed (to the brim cuz I need lots of shoes and tight fitting clothes in the event of - and cameras, lots and lots of cameras) and ready to go!
I have two photography goals on this trip:
- Take many, many pictures of my best friend and I together. Because, well, we have none. (And before you ask, yes. I'm bringing my tripod and 4 cameras. WELL?!)
- Take my holga to the beach and beach-shoot. Seriously, I can't possibly explain but this will be my biggest holga dream realized *contentedsigh*. Every photographer has to have their dreams and this has always been my secret one. South Beach isn't ready for me. w00!
Don't let Le Secret Guest Poster get up to too much mischief while I'm gone. See that big picture of me on the top? Yeah. That's there to remind him and his ego that this is *my* blog. Where we talk about pink and how fabulous I am. Got it?
Good.
Have fun while I'm gone and take lots of pictures!
Love,
Sophie
(Don't) think pink!
Hiya! Jellywellington here, all the way from sunny England, subbing for Margaret again (though you can call me Roger).
And despite Margaret's protestations otherwise, there'll be no talk of pink here until her return, because quite frankly I've never liked the colour - it's brash, flamboyant and rather annoyingly loud - much like most Americans! Ha ha! (oh god, I've just annoyed almost the entire audience... quick, suck up to 'em!).
Hey - that's a weird thing - I just noticed (thanks to my lovely spell checker) that I'd inadvertently typed 'oink' instead of 'pink' - which is curious as pigs are pink and they go 'oink!', so already the synchronicities are piling up... or pinkchronicities, even...
Anyway, I did say I wouldn't talk about pink. I mean, pink for god's sake! I'm a boy! Boys don't *do* pink, 'kay? We do blue. A much more manly colour, I'm sure you'd agree. Calm and tranquil, relaxing and lovely - not like shouty pink jumping up and down and going "Me me me! Look at me over here! I'm pink and proud and I love it! Look at ME!!!". Can't be doing with it. Pink = Stink, as far as I'm concerned.
Arggh! I'm still talking about pink! It's getting like those songs you get in your head that just refuse to leave. I tell you, if pink was a song, it would be something hideous like Little Jimmy Osmond doing 'Long Haired Lover From Liverpool'. I shudder to recall it.
Pink. Even the sound of the word - "pink" - it has a nasty sort of curtness about it. If you say "blue" it's almost like saying "ooooooo" which is nice and calming and even cute - but "pink" - you have to sneer to say it. Or at least I do.
Do you know why there's hardly any pink food? Because no-one would eat it, that's why! Except maybe pink Smarties, but they're bad for you anyway, cos they're pink! It's a little known fact that you could eat blue Smarties as much as you like, with no harmful effects whatsoever. Eat too many pink ones, and they'll be calling you 'Gummy' before you know it. "Old Gummy Pink Breath", that's what they'd call you. Oh yes.
So I'm not gonna talk about pink at all. No more mentions of pink in here. Pink is right out. Glad we're clear on that.
don't try this at home... (by Welly)
I often wonder who was the first person to try things. Who, for instance, was the first person to look at a cow and say "hey, I think I'll try pulling those udders and see what happens". And then who suggested they try drinking it? I mean, how thirsty do you have to be before you try something like that for the first time?
And conkers, there's a strange thing. Who was the first person to look at a conker after it had fallen from a tree, and think "Hey, I'm gonna stick a hole in that, thread some string through it, get my mate to do the same thing, and then we can bash the hell out of each other's conkers until one of us is the winner". Whose crazy idea was that? And why conkers? Why don't we do it with, say, broccoli? Or melons?
Who first thought that riding a horse would be a good idea? Did they try riding a few other animals first to see which was the most comfy? Did they experiment with riding big dogs? Or rhinos?
I do wonder about this stuff...
Drat! And Double Drat!!
Why hasn't Wacky Races been picked up as a live action movie yet? Or at the very least a full length cartoon movie to really give Dick Dastardly and Muttley a chance to shine.
I do love those old Hanna-Barbera cartoons - Top Cat (Sgt Bilko with cats, how could it go wrong?), Yogi Bear, the Flintstones, Hong Kong Phooey (number one super guy), all good stuff, but Wacky Races was the cream of the crop. Maybe it depends on your age, but I look at kids cartoons now and they just look bizarre to me - badly animated, hopelessly written and the product of a crazed mind - I still like the old cartoon sitcom style, definitely had a lot going for it.
And I've always wanted a Double Zero (Dick Dastardly's car) - a groovy full-size one that I could roar down the motorway in. When I was growing up, there seemed to be gimmicky cars all over the place - I remember specifically as a kid seeing the Jaffamobile, which was promoting Jaffa Oranges, and was basically a giant orange on wheels - probably profoundly unsafe to drive, but fun! When I was driving with my chum down to London last year, we passed a guy driving a customised bumper car down the motorway (a dodgem car is probably what you call them in the US) - he wasn't going very fast, but he was clearly having a damn good time doing it!
So yes please, Dick Dastardly's Double Zero for me for Xmas! Thanks! If you come for a drive with me, you get to wear the Muttley costume, and how cool is THAT?!
Welly x
Without giving away too much, I did stuff. And it was all cool 'n stuff.
I somehow managed to make it home last night without encountering any accidental hurricanes or accidental jailtime (which should make my mother very, very proud). Other than managing to keep myself from being arrested I daresay there's little else about the weekend that would make her proud. Myyyyyyyy goodness the fun that was had!!! Wooooooooooo ha ha ha ha. I always forget how much fun Keira (doesn't she look gorgeous in this photo?!) and I have together... and I also forget how late we stay out... not to mention how much money we end up spending. And then there's the drinking - man oh man, the drinking! And believe me I'm paying for all that weekend goodness today.... good lord people. I've had at least 2 people at work tell me how many shades of crap I look - and trust me, that never happens.
There were huge, great lollipops as big as my head, there was a little Flashdancing, there was a road trip, there was an appropriate amount of room service (and by appropriate I mean at least one meal a day was delivered to my comfortable, parked in front of reality TV, bed), getting on some very important lists, getting stuff paid for, staying out till 7:30am, accidentally getting our smiling mugs posted on the internet thanks to one lovely chica with a Nikon D70 that I (of *course*) made friends with, meeting a couple of nice English chaps at an Irish pub, and the unfortunate luck that 98% of my pictures have been rendered completely unpostable thanks to our antics.
Um, yeah.
I apologize right now about the lack of Florida pictures that will get posted because, well, I didn't get a chance to shoot all the things I wanted to. I mean, I got plenty of shots but they're just not the pretty landscape, cool colors kind. Unless of course you consider hunk-of-burning-love, tall dark and tan men a nice landscape and beautiful people in beautiful clothes nice color. I absolutely, 100% blame Keira for your photography mistidings (as should you of course). Don't fret, I'll milk the material for what I can and several photos will get posted for your viewing pleasure.
But if you *ACT NOW* you can view the rest on my other pay-site for a simple $9.95 membership fee! I'm calling it a birthday special, a limited time offer. Natches ;).
Nice to be home to my own bed though. Good to see Welly did a nice job with the posting, even if my eyes glazed over on that last one. Except for something about Gummi Bears and Dungeons & Dragons... cuz both of those are pretty effin' cool. And Steve is gonna get a huge slap the next time I see him for this, because I'm preeeeetty sure that my posting a picture of a couple of cute, fuzzy baby geese is not *quite* the same thing as that Thoughtful bullshit. Be warned Steve. Be very, very warned. I am your all powerful web designer and I *can* fuck up your shit. And with a little help from Raych this weekend I'm sure you will get yours.
On the plane I said a sad farewell to the last of the warm weather for another 6 months as well as a tearful goodbye to Le Blessed Event, Part Deux *sniff*. Goodbye sweet Blessed Event, see you next year when we move to the tropics.
For those with a strong constitution, read on
I posted several pictures from this weekend on my flickr account. Feel free to head on over and take a gander if you're feeling up to warm, sparkly, Miami goodness.
I tried to crop out the decadence and debauchery as much as possible - but you know, if you see something you shouldn't don't blame me.
So much to say, so little voice to say it with
This week has been a trip and things will only get more interesting when Raych comes to visit TOMORROW! Yes peeps, it's that time of the month already and I am *soooo* excited to meet her (even as I type I'm willing to bet Steve is hiding under his bed as he prepares for the fallout). Is Minneapolis ready for us? Um, yeah... I'm not so sure I can answer that with an affirmative but I can definitely tell you there will be an attempt at some shopping on Saturday since I am clean out of hot outfits. Plus I need shoes - I mean really, the house of Andrews is in the code red of Shoemergency and there will be no showing of the closets to Rachel because it's that embarrassing (note to Raych, be gentle, m'kay? and try not to notice that I have NO food in my house besides a few containers of yogurt).
Sorry things have been a bit quiet this week but I promise you I haven't been discriminatory. It turns out the festivity gods demanded a nice little price on all my fun-having and incurred upon yours truly a nice little cold, featuring a song and dance by our good friend Laryngitis. I'm currently considering all the ways in which I can score some quick cash by using my rusty vocal cords for a dramatic lounge act... but that's probably not going to happen cuz I'll be enjoying the goodness of Raych's visit! w0000!
Some other quick hits this week:
- A few more pictures over on my flickr account if you can find the way, including an incredible shot of my hair and an incredible shot of my ass. When you think about it, how many times have you seen your ass? I'm thankful that the one shot I have of it is in my favorite, well and my only, pink pants.
- Thank GOD! Keira's slow on the uptake cuz her big mouth is gonna get me in trouble one of these days. Two dolla make you holla.
- Myspace is a joke played upon us by some nasty little designers and developers with a wicked sense of humor. Seriously... I almost have no words. However, if you're in the 6th grade and in to playing MASH while Kim Simons kisses Mike Fields behind the lockers then it's probably perfect for you. Ok ok ok, that's all I'm going to say about it (so help me god Keira, if you say even ONE word about this item I will make you pay dearly).
- This cold has GOT to go.
- I leave for 2 seconds and come back to find out Char's engaged! Jesus crunchy christ woman - it's simply fabulous. Congratulations.
- You know... if I had known last weekend what I know now things miiiight have been different. Apparently VIP tables at the hottest club in Miami in fact aren't that easy to come by. So um, yeah. Thanks for that Faycal.
It's time for me to stop horsing around and get to work. Later peeps!
Right on.
I came in to work this morning and had this birthday card waiting for me at my desk:
I'm just so easily amused - it made me laugh out loud a little bit.
Here's my Guest Blog Entry, But if I told what was going on over here right now, I'd have to kill you
I'm not just guest blogging over here, I'm guest blogging from Margaret's computer, in Margaret's living room, on Margaret's couch! We've had Starbucks this morning, we'e shopped, and now we are going to watch Vanilla Sky. It's been a wonderful weekend. Just enough doing stuff, and just enough relaxing.
Last night we hit Melting Pot for Fondue and oh my god. I think if all Margaret and I ever do together is eat and shop we'd be okay. Well I know if that's all I ever did I'd be ok, and I'd be more than happy to take Margaret along for the ride!
The movie's starting so I'll politely return Margaret's blog to her and soon I'll be leaving the Twin Cities. Thanks so much for having me sweetie, I had a blast!
All the yum you can stand
Today is Monday, October 24th and as far as I can tell I'm still alive (Dear Rachael, thanks for all the drugs. Love, Margaret). I still have the cold. Yup, the cough too. And don't forget our good friend Señor Laryngitis. But yesterday Rachael physically forced me to Target for cough medicine against my many croaked protests. I'm not a drug person and don't like putting unauthorized, non-gift-bearing stuff in my body if I can help it, but frankly I think *she* was sick and tired of listening to my sad attempts at a hoarse, sea witch voice (in case you were wondering, I can now - officially - cackle; it's all cool 'n stuff) and took me there for her own selfish purposes. She explained the whole medicine thing with a lot of big words and said that I would feel better from the active antiexperimendipeditussen. But all I heard was, "La la la la la la la la PUMPKIN SPICE LATTE FROM STARBUCKS." Foreign, body-altering stuff in my body? WHO CARES? There's pumpkin spiced lattes at Starbucks to be had!!!
So I got the syrup but in my state of complete fogginess misread the directions and took almost *5 times!* the amount I was supposed to. Five. Times. (Which I didn't find out until late last night as I was preparing to take yet another dose. Yeah. Oops.)
"Rachael? I feel kinda.... drunk or something."
"It's ok Margaret, it's just the syrup. It works really good 'n stuff."
Wooooooooo, I'd say it works good 'n stuff! But just so the dickheads that make Robitussen know - if there's no need for a 2 tbls. marker DON'T PUT ONE ON THE PLASTIC CUP! Needless to say, by 5:30 yesterday evening I was feeling prettttty darn good. I will be referring to Rachael for all my future drug needs, and so should you.
Backtracking for a moment... in case you've been living under a rock Rachael, Miss Yumjunkie herself, came up to visit me this weekend. And not only did she come visit me, she came bearing presents *gasp*. As in plural, MULTIPLE, pink presents. I know, right? This also marks the first time I've ever met an "online friend" in person. Seriously? If all you internet peeps are as cool as she is we need to be doing this whole get-together thing more often. Cuz damn.
Not only is she cute, she's sweet and funny and soooooo generous. And her laugh? My god the laugh. I swear if her blog could somehow communicate her laugh she'd be getting more readers than the NY Times.
There were all kinds of adventures this weekend, which mainly ended up revolving around the shopping variety. Oops, and the food. Shopping and food. This picture would be Raych at the Mall of America as she prepares to hunt and gather our chocolate and banana crepe lunch snack. Not so much a lunch since I took her to Big Bowl for that (where ELSE would I have taken her, honestly?), but she said crepes were worth having. Look at her in this photo.... like watching a huntress deep in her natural habitat. Eye on the prize.
More shopping. This was after Tiffany's and before Nordstrom's. Gotta love the Pottery Barn, but even more importantly gotta love the Big Bowl buzzer for telling us our food is ready before we had a chance to do any real damage at the Pottery Barn. The woman was totally in her element here. Obviously.
As an added bonus I made her go shoot some photos with me. We stopped off at Cedar Lake where I handed off my little Canon digi and let her go at it. At first she wasn't so sure what to do but within 10 minutes she was kneeling in the mud, treading through sand, and crouching in front of teeeeeeeeny tiny little purple flowers like a total pro. The clouds were fluffy, the water was blue and sparkly, the trees were red, yellow, and orange, and the sun was shining. Honestly, does it get any better?
I'm sad to see the weekend go and even sadder I didn't take off a full week of work just so recover from the past 2 weeks. But hello, it was sooooo worth it. Soooo ho ho ho worth it. If anyone needs to reach me I will be held up in bed alternating between IVs of cough syrup and pumpkin spice lattes keeping me in my happy place. Mmmmm, happy place.
The non-judging meme
1. Name someone with the same birthday as you.
Carrie Fisher, of braided bun fame.
2. Where was your first kiss?
Behind one of the dorms at UW-Green Bay.
3. Have you ever seriously vandalized someone else's property?
My goodness, I would never.
4. Have you ever hit someone of the opposite sex?
Not even when begged.
5. Have you ever sang in front of a large number of people?
When I was in the 5th grade choir, yes.
6. What's the first thing you notice about the opposite sex?
Who are we all kidding here - I notice their body. If they open their mouths, this is the part where I notice the curve of said mouth (but only if something decent just came out of it). I will also take in hair, eyes, shoes, hands, teeth, and muscle bulge if they've passed the previously indicated mental acuity test which is very, very important in my book.
7. What really turns you on?
Clever wit and a well worn cologne. (If you think dead chickens are funny... you're on my naughty list.)
8. What do you order at Starbucks?
Last week I would have passed on this question. This week I'm both shamed and proud to answer that it's the Pumpkin Spice Latte. God damn.
9. What is your biggest mistake?
My greatest life decisions have resulted from my "biggest mistakes". Does this mean I have none?
10. Have you ever hurt yourself on purpose?
I'm human, of course I have (and those guys I did it for totally weren't worth it).
11. Say something totally random about yourself.
I just bought the new Ashlee Simpson CD. And I *like* it (please remember this is the non-judging meme).
12. Has anyone ever said you looked like a celebrity?
Yup. Claire Danes, Gwyneth Paltrow, and Avril Lavigne are the norms, even if Avril Lavigne is a punk-ass-ho that's almost 10 years younger than I am.
13. Do you still watch kiddy movies or tv shows?
Kiddy movies? Aw hells yeah.
14. Did you have braces?
Indeedy, with pink rubber bands.
15. Are you comfortable with your height?
Love it.
16. What is the most romantic thing someone of the opposite sex has done for you?
Wrote me a book.
17. When do you know it's love?
When seeing that person feels like home.
18. Do you speak any other languages?
I used to speak Spanish and Swedish, but honestly they're both a bit on the rusty side.
19. Have you ever been to a tanning salon?
Yeah, no.
20. What magazines do you read?
InStyle and Communication Arts.
21. Have you ever ridden in a limo?
Well, yeah.
22. Has anyone you were really close to passed away?
No.
23. Do you watch mtv?
Only when hungover and held up in a Miami hotel room.
24. What's something that really annoys you?
Body odor. And people who do things with their mouths open - eat, chew, munch on gum, not covering a yawn. GAH!
25. What's something you really like?
Kittens.
26. Do you like Michael Jackson?
Do I like Michael Jackson pre-1990? You bet. I had a mad crush on his Thriller album cover photo and used to wonder what color our children would be.
27. Can you dance?
Psheesh. After being a trained dancer for 16 years *I* can do the running man baby. Wooooooooooooo!!!!!
28. What's the latest you have ever stayed up?
The first time I moved to Europe I stayed up something like 46 hours straight traveling. Well? I was really excited 'n stuff.
29. Have you ever been rushed by an ambulance into the emergency room?
No.
30. Do you actually read these when other people fill them out?
Mostly. I am not afraid to admit that if you're boring... I skim.
Pull up a couch and let it all out
I'm probably going to live to regret saying this on my website, but here it goes.
I have this theory that if something scares the living beejeesies out of you, you should probably do it. The veil of fear is a heavy, stupid thing that gives us wrinkles and ulcers for no tangible reason. I mean really. What are some of the things you're most afraid of and why do you let them do that 'fear' thing to you? What do you get out of it? Fears can be big things - like fear of being alone, fear of being unloved - or they can be small things - like a fear of snakes (yes well, this one doesn't actually impede on my everyday life but only when I'm at the zoo or trekking through the jungle, neither of which happens very often so let's just let me have this one, m'kay?, great, thanks). Either way, fears are fears and I believe they come to you for a reason.
So you can *DO* something about them!
This week I started getting that tight, panicky feeling in my chest because it's T minus 5 days until I start writing my novel and...
- I still have no plot
- I still have no characters
- I still have no ideas
- no storyline either
- I still haven't checked myself in to a local mental institution and beds must be filling up quickly
Which of course means I know I'm doing the right thing with this whole novel bullshit. I might be crazy but at least I have a good reason for being so.
Last night, oh sweet Tuesday, October 25th evening, last night I had a moment of clarity whilst chatting with a friend. Yes people, the idea gods saw fit to bestow upon this lowly mortal a single idea. A beautiful, wonderful, glorious jumping off point that's going to get me started on this long road to hell being a novelist by December 1st. And more importantly, it's done more to ease the tightness in my chest than all the Robitussen I od'd on this week. Not only doesn't it seem like such a bad idea to write this book next month anymore, it's starting to seem *dare I say it out loud* like a GOOD idea! What the hell else was I going to do with my 2005 November anyway? Um, yeah. Probably nothing significant.
So here's what I got so far...
- a heroine
- someone named Launch (yes well, she's been stalking me the past few days - like *I* would give her a stupid name like Launch!)
- Markus with a 'k' (he's foreign and yuuuuuuuuumy!)
- a job (or lack thereof)
- an airplane
- a camera
Yes I know it's a light start but that's all I needed. A start.
Fears people. Embrace them, love them, kick the living shit out of them, and punch them in their beady little faces.
What are you doing with your November? Giving fear the bird?
If you have a penis, pay close attention
You know how some people can totally and completely surprise you out of the blue?
Yeah, well, bugs can have the same effect... especially when you're in your creative web designing zone, all jammin' out with Ella the iPod as company. And out from behind your monitor struts a big, nasty, brown body with accursed antennae all pointing in your direction. BLCH! I screeched a little, I'll admit it. The thing about bugs is that I don't so much mind them, but I don't like them appearing in places they're not supposed to appear. What's a place they're not supposed to appear? Anywhere within 30 feet of ME!!! Cuz seriously, if they try that shit their asses are toast.
Now. The thing I like even *less* than bugs appearing where they're not supposed to appear is dickhead boyfriends who stand there and LOOK at the fucking things instead of killing them. A boyfriend who doesn't quickly rid my space of bugs is in immediate threat of being A) clocked, B) thrown out the front door, and C) getting zero ass for the rest of his mortal life. Without question.
Story time.
I kid you not, in my old townhouse a huge great millipede looking thing that was almost as long as my entire hand with more legs than a millipede (obviously it had more legs if it was as long as my hand) came crawling out from behind my fireplace. AS BIG AS MY FUCKING HAND, did you get that part!!!! And you know what *cough the tourist guide cough* my boyfriend did? Like a complete dickhead... ... ... he just stood there and looked at it as I screamed for him to do SOMETHING and did my trying-not-to-soil-myself-dance in the kitchen.
You know what happened about 10 seconds later? Do you? DO YOU?!!!
It ran off.
Then I clocked said dickhead boyfriend over the head with a frying pan for being such a dickhead, obviously.
And then I didn't sleep for the next 3 months as the nastiness of 4 inch bugs with 4 million legs procreated in my walls.
You don't *look* at bugs if they're in your home. You vehemently and quickly kill them. No questions, just death.
So today, when the nasty little box elder came crawling out from behind my monitor and I performed a quick Retract-A-Screech for the entire office, and my most favoritest co-working fellow web designer quickly and silently got up, got a tissue, and got rid of the bug... I almost threw myself in to his arms in thanks and praise.
Cuz that's why men were born with penises. So they could KILL BUGS for women.
You have not reached this page in error
Today is a day for joyous celebration. For as long as I've had a website (even the *gulp* Angelfire websites I had before this one, you soooo didn't just read that) I've always been buried deep in the google index. If you ever tried searching for "Margaret Andrews", um yeah, you'd get hundreds of pages of dead Margaret Andrews's that lived in the 1600's, 1700's, and 1800's... NONE of which had their own bloody websites!!! Seriously. How fucking demeaning it is when a web designer gets trumped by hundreds upon hundreds of DEAD PEOPLE.
But today *sniff*, today someone got to me by searching for my name on google. And when I checked it out it turns out that I have graduated to first and second spot of the Margaret Andrews class. Oh dear, I think I'm going to cry a little bit *sniff*. Go see, go see. If you search for Margaret Andrews there I am. On the first page. At the top.
Now I can officially say, "I'm not like a regular Margaret Andrews, I'm a cool Margaret Andrews." Thanks google. This really *has* been the best birthday month ever!
I haven't even had any liquor!
I created 2 wallpapers tonight, mainly cuz I have zero tolerance for boring backgrounds. This warm weather must be going to my head cuz I'm feeling all generous 'n stuff.
Click the thumbs, do a little Friday swap, and enjoy!
Can you feel the NaNo love?
Dear Steve,
Payback's a bitch, isn't it?
Love,
Sophie
PS, I finished the design for your 2005 NaNoWriMo novel.
PPS, Just like you asked, in your current design.
PPPS, Well? It's his design... just... a little... pink. Go love on him, m'kay?
Happy Halloween!
T minus 9 until heart attack
I wanted to write something non-novel related today but I just don't think it's gonna happen. It's T minus 9 hours until I can *officially* start writing the novel and not a moment sooner. And eventhough I spent all my money on booze, hotel rooms, and perhaps more than one lobster and sirloin dinner last month, I'm making myself go grocery shopping tonight so I'm all set for food until December. The sad fact is that when you live alone one trip to the grocery store can last more than 2 months. Easy. It's also a sad fact that when you have a novel to write all of a sudden things like laundry and grocery shopping become The Most Important Things In The Universe™.
Almost as important as alphabetizing your 400-CD collection. Or re-folding your towels and sheets. Or giving yourself a manicure and pedicure cuz your nails are like a mutha-fuckin' train wreck, eventhough it's autumn and boots are the bog standard for at least 6 more months. Or opening up a blank word document and testing out different margins, fonts, font-sizes, and character formatting to see what works best for you piece of work (as if *I* would do something like that).
Ok, so I totally *did* do that last bit but it's ok cuz novel writing month hasn't officially started - so it's not considered procrastinating.
And because this is a fully interactive site complete with pictures (which will continue to get posted every day, as always) 'n all kinds of other goodies, I've posted a little something for your enjoyment on the sidenav. Check it out, a little to your left. See that Project Novel bit? Yeah. That would be your, "Harrass-a-novel-writer-meter" in which you can freely and limitlessly gauge my level of suck and reprove accordingly.
I would expect nothing less from my esteemed readers.
*gulp*
PS, I know 4 others participating this year, 3 of which are putting their novels online real-time. If you need a little reading in your life I highly recommend the following:
-- Steve, who has some crazy and dark ideas about physics.
-- Joe, who has some crazy ideas about what constitutes a superhero.
-- Char, who has some crazy ideas about death.
Go say hi, won't you?