Overthunk

I've been paring down the amount of makeup I carry around with me at all times. Currently, I am at the following purse totals: Three eyeliners -- brown-black, purple and blue One mascara -- brown-black Three lipsticks (including one that doesn't come off unless scrubbed) One clear lip gloss Concealer (although the one I have is old and I've already bought a new one) AND, this is only what I carry around... I have two makeup cases full of brushes, nail polish, eye shadow, glittery dust and other stuff, not to mention the dozens of tubes and packets I have shoved away in drawers. It's foolishness, I know. How much makeup can one person wear at a time? (Well, woman I mean, as I'm sure drag queens can wear significantly more.) I cannot really explain this other than feeling that I have to have a CHOICE. I do the same thing with shoes. I have probably 30 pairs. And oddly, I have noted that $6.00 Chinese-made shoes from Dollar General can smell like gasoline (making me w...

The origins of this unholy, calorie-laden concoction go back twenty years or more, to the kitchen of my aunt, where my cousin was inspired by the ghost of William Howard Taft or somebody to mix two incredibly rich substances: peanut butter and syrup. Whether anyone else does this, I don't know. Today's version was somewhat halfass in it's pantry-product indulgence, because rather than Skippy peanut butter and Griffin's Waffle Syrup , I had to use Simply Jif (reduced fat) and Karo, hardcore corn fructose confection of our grandmothers and a pillar of all true Texan pecan pies (which I didn't even like until this past year). Anyway, here's the recipe, if you and your pancreas can handle the deliciousness: 1. Purchase, then slam a can of cheapass white biscuits across the kitchen counter a few times until it pops, remove and bake according to the directions on the package (spend no more than 40 cents per can). 2. Put about 2 tablespoons of peanut butter into a bow...

Some habits persist, and some come and go. Although my driving instructor bud tells me it's terribly dangerous, I must confess that I've been creating a new habit over the past few months: driving unshod. I can't seem to get home through the all-too-long afternoon commute with my shoes still on. Really, this is just an extension of my lifelong practice of eschewing shoes as often as I can. As a kid, I would refuse shoes to ridiculous levels: Hey! Let's see which barefoot kid can stand on the oven-hot Texas summer baked concrete the longest! Hey! Let's walk barefoot across Grandaddy's cow pasture full of torturous stickers to get to the pony that lives next door! How about over and over, for years!? I'm not quite that ridiculous about it anymore, but even now, the callouses on my feet are probably at least 1/4 inch thick (which was my handy excuse to the adult remedial involuntary driving lesson -- "my feet are like shoes"). Fifteen or twenty secon...

Just by bleeding, you can contribute 10 cents per box of flow stanchers to your chosen neighborhood school. Well, at least it's good for something other than letting you know you're not expecting a new lil' scholar. Learn more at: http://www.boxtops4education.com/

and I have been recruited to assist with the business of running it, as well as teach my regular class. That is all for now, though I can hardly stand the necessity of sleep over blogging.... See your stuff soon, peeps!

I've lived in Texas all my life, and I've made it through some damned hot summers. Yet only today, and never before, have I witnessed this: cows going for a dip in the afternoon sun.* Of about a dozen cows standing around in the pasture as I sped past, two seemed a little bit smarter than the others. They were skinny dipping, even, and seemed to be smiling, and perhaps snorting the bovine version of the following playlet: Black and White Cow: "Vaya Con Dios, bitches!! We're swimming!! In your and our water hole, even! We are one step closer to taking down our human oppressors! " Black Cow: "Word! I'm sick of just standing here absorbing the sun's rays!" 'Course, what cows actually say to one another as they graze in the blazing sun will perhaps never be known. Any scientists fool enough to try to trek all the way out to the water hole on a 104-degree day like today while lugging heavy data recording instruments and wearing white lab coats w...

To cleave into one’s innards, like a sharp steel blade slicing into a paper-bag-ripened nectarine: eventually, you’ll get to the mazing, shriveled core, but when you do, it’ll be messy, juice will be spilled, and the prospect of the truth of new life and renewal inside that crinkly brown pit is completely unenvisionable. Everything comes before it: cleaning that long-dead Junebug out of the corner of the kitchen counter, flipping from song to song to song to song on Internet radio, flinging washed clothes into the dryer, pretending to perform an Everclear song to a sellout stadium crowd while the roommate’s off buying cigarettes, watching some exhibitionist on a webcam. Guilt: The feeling that if you do it, if you REALLY do it, you’ve outed some dirty secret about everyone you know in some fashion or other, including, and perhaps most importantly, yourself.

Though I like owning my house, I wish from time to time that instead of in a middle-class neighborhood, that it was in the middle of a hundred-acre wood or something. I have a crappy little bench, that needs either a coat of paint, or just to be thrown out, sitting in my front yard, fairly close to the door. You can sit on it, but it rather lists to one side. I don't sit on it for fear of causing its last day on earth in a sudden collapse, but it looks somewhat fetching sitting alongside the flowers that I usually remember to water in the bed that needs weeding. I pull up to the homestead today, after a day of toil in which every moment was begrudged (seeing as how I AM a teacher and it IS still summer, but today there was a pesky training day that could be finished in 3 hours but took 7 just to fill up the state-required time), a bank trip that shouldn't have taken 45 minutes in the 100 degree heat, and a lengthy stint at Walmart shopping. All of this was done while wantin...

Release date: August 15th, 1984. My purchase date: 1985, probably. I still know all the lyrics. p.s. I'm waiting to get all the desert pix to post along with my desert tales. When those are all available, I'll reveal the secrets of the Texas mountains.

It's road trip time. Tomorrow I embark on a 500 mile journey towards Big Bend National Park, in southwest Texas, into the Chihuahuan Desert -- the largest in North America. It will be my first excursion into such a place, though for unknown reasons, deserts have always fascinated me. Perhaps, on this trip, I'll find out why. In any case, hasta luego! See y'all on the flip side!

So, upon entering the local Chinese food buffet, I determined that I had to GO. As I rushed into the restroom, a horrid stench wafted out. Against all olfactory sense, I still had to GO, so unto the breach I proceeded, holding a piece of shirt over mouth and nose to enable me to survive. Someone else entered as I did, but apparently didn't have to GO like I did, and I said casually, "Wow, we should tell them at the front desk about this." As I was checking each stall, I noted that in one, someone had... missed the shot they'd attempted to take, let's say. It had bounced off the rim. Then they'd tried to clean it up... they just didn't do a very good job. Slightly horrified, I recoiled, and chose another stall. When I gotta GO, I gotta GO. Anyway, in the meantime, the management had been notified. A tiny, older Asian woman dressed in business attire appeared in the restroom door, exclaiming, "Oh my GAAAAWD!!" as she opened it, then shouting in Chi...

I know, this trend is old news now, but its ridiculosity has not lessened. Do you want to say that this part of you is juicy? That may be a possibly serious medical problem, possibly related to ingestion of bad enchiladas. Why don't they get more descriptive with it? Like "Gassy" or "Pimply"? And hell, why doesn't the rest of the world besides fashionistas join in? These could appear in all parts of a department store: Menswear "Hairy" "Stanky" "Betta than Brad Pitt's" "Not an Entrance" "Bubble" Infants/Toddlers "Change This" "Caution: May Be Poopy" "Despite what I say, I should actually go potty" Plus Sizes "Got Back" "May Be Hot, May Not Depending on your Proclivities" The list is endless. I mean, if you're going to do a thing, don't do it half-assed! p.s. Go on, add your own!...

This isn't exactly it but today in Spencer's Gifts I saw this hobo purse with a large, uhh, bead? attached to the front that was actually brass (well, aluminum) knuckles. This one is far more fashionable and expensive and made by James Piatt, who dubs it the "Peacekeeper." Hmm. I'm not sure that peace is what you're gearing up for when you carry this. Nonetheless, it is rather cool and kind of brings up a subject near and dear to me, which is, carrying some form of weaponry on one's person at all times. As a teenager, I had a double-edged dagger with a blade of about three inches, a brass crosspiece, and a hilt of stacked wood in rainbow hues. It was illegal due to having a double edge, but it looked cool. (Hey, tell the dollar store guy I got it from. Yes, dollar store.) I carried it with me everywhere, either in my purse or in my pocket, to school, to Ozzy Osbourne concerts, everywhere. I don't know why, but having it made me feel better. It was the ...

We've been having a lot of rain here in Dallas lately. Not as much as in Gainesville, 70 miles north (see photo), but still, enough to turn a few pastures into sort-of rice paddies, or fishing grounds for egrets. So the other day I was lazing about and realized that yet again, it was going to pour down. It was going to pour down cats and dogs, and my particular dogs had a blanket they had soiled and needed washin'. So I threw it outside in the backyard, into said rain. It got washed by the good waters of God, purged of its doggy-stink sins. Later, I washed it in the washing machine, but still, it wasn't AS dirty as it COULD have been, due to quick advantage taken of natural resources . Assertion: I am hickass. Question: Too hickass? ---------------------- Well, it's floodin' down in Texas All the telephone lines are down I've been tryin' to call my baby And I can't get a single sound -- S. Ray Vaughan -------------------------------------- Country folk c...

I await. I try to do other things, but I am continually distracted. Will Tony get whacked, commit suicide, lose his family, turn to the feds? Will A.J. flip out? Why the shovel? I just can't stop thinking about it... the alternate endings, the end of an era, almost everyone else is already gone. Soon, we'll know.... but not soon enough!

I did have a scrolling blogthing here that showed the lyrics to my latest enamorment in song: Mika's "Grace Kelly" (specifically, the trance remix version), but somehow posts got disabled by copying the script here and when I enabled them, things got even more wonky and a new song I'd never even heard of replaced it. So, for the safety of all concerned, it has been deleted. This is no fault of the song, however; it's melodic, anxious, just a snip (ok, a lot) gay, and fun, as Violet of The Lemonade Stand can attest! Check it out!

Today I've been, amongst other things, trying to tag as many past posts as possible with keywords, like poetry, contradiction, pig races, sock monkey.... stuff like that. At the end of this lengthy and laborious process, I shall make a bar graph depicting the frequency upon which I expound on variant topics, evidencing the intervals at which they sashay and mosey through my neurons. Or not. Really I just wanted a reason to post the following song snippet, a 17-word microcosm of a perfect love experience. See below. ----------------------------------- "It'll be you and me, Up in the trees, And the forests will give us the answers..." - M. Casey and Lovehammers

You Are a Centaur In general, you are a very cautious and reserved person. However, you are also warm hearted, and you enjoy helping others in practical ways. You are a great teacher, and you are really good at helping people get their lives in order. You are very intuitive, and you go with your gut. You make good decisions easily. What Mythological Creature Are You?

Some of you may remember this gift from the gods of Foods That Should Not Be. Well, here's another. Sweet 'N' Sour Cupcakes 1. Prepare white cake mix, pour into cupcake cups (preferably of the rockin' stars variety, but I've only seen those at Christmas and have been saving them ever since), and bake. 2. Mix one packet of tropical punch flavored Kool Aid and about 1/4 cup sugar. 3. Sprinkle mixture over warm cupcakes and watch in amazement as it turns from a greyish powder to bright red, even though you know that's what's going to happen. 4. Serve to kids you know and await their accolades, which, I assure you, will be forthcoming. 5. Eat one yourself, with visible doubt. Like it and eat another. Amazing what a lack of icing can do to stimulate the imagination. I made these once before for the class just due to lack of materials, but this time they were clamoring for the oddness again. Try it! WARNING: Yes, of course it stains everything in sight. p.s. Yes,...

Sorry for the long absence! Work and life are tag teaming to kick my patoot. Speaking of tagging, I've been tagged by Name Hidden of The Unseen Blogger fame. So here are 10 movies I like, listed by imdb plot keywords. Can you guess them? 1. Franz Kafka, Buddhism, Environmental Activism, Watermelon, Sudanese (hmm... half of these don't describe the movie to me... oh well.) 2. Androgyny, Sequel mentioned during end credits, Apocrypha, Revenge, Depiction of God 3. Performance Artist, Left Handedness, Female Nudity, Foot Fetish, Head in Toilet 4. Technology, Experiment Gone Wrong, Cyborg, Regicide, Science Runs Amok 5. Ancient Sword, Magic, Against the Odds, Villian, Stylized 6. Dumped by Girlfriend, Actor's Life, Ex Girlfriend, Dating, Swing 7. Time for Title, Double Cross, Duty, China, Teepee 8. Thief, Remake, Hotel, Caper, Escapade 9. Black Comedy, Part Stop Motion, Tragic Hero, U Boat, Surreal 10. Soul transference, Actor playing Himself, No opening credits, Chrysler Build...