Faith Salutes

What really Chaps my Hide: And will when I die

Before I get started, I love the phrase "Chaps my hide." Its so juicy and appropriate.

So what really chaps my hide is when Professors make ridiculous, ridiculous! statements in order to make a point more dramatic and in doing so inject a stupid bias.

For example, this evening....I heard that the Death Tax was a conservative term, blah, blah...great, who cares. It is a tax and it happens when you die. Makes sense to me.

Here is where he turns into a complete idiot. (He is literally sitting next to me right now, listening to a student presentation, hahahaha.)

He asserts that its not as bad as it sounds and it is better to tax people when they die and decide how "we" the collective, or in other words, "the government" can use that money for good instead of giving it "to people who don't do anything." He said that! What an idiot. Can you good citizens see why this ludicrous?

For the record, when I die, I am going to leave it to my imaginary friends, my brother's dog and maybe my kids. Maybe. BECAUSE IT IS MY EFFING MONEY. I GET TO LEAVE IT TO WHOMEVER OR WHATEVER I WANT! Simply, what he is saying is that when you die "we" will have no respect for you or your family nor did "we" have respect for you when you are alive. Proof: "we" are going to STEAL your money and let our government decide how it is to be spent.

Out of the other side of his mouth he has mentioned how you can't trust the government. But hey, that doesn't stop him from wanting to them to take my money or your money or his money to spend on programs of their choice.

When I don't trust someone I usually don't give them money. Do you?

So angry. People eat this crap up, they think he is Mr. Smarty Professor Pants. After I hinted that I was not happy about his comments...the girl next to me said, "Yeah but a lady left 4 million dollars to her dog." And my response was, "So what." I should have said, "Because the government didn't waste 4 million dollars today. Puh-lease."

Faithsalutes the elimination of the Death Tax.

I dumbed this down...obviously, but you get the picture.

Day to Day Operations

Work, boring.
Driving around, boring.
Waiting to have car looked at, more boringer.
Going to Home Depot, uneventful.
Poking around in Big Lots, nothing to report.
Heading into Goodwill....now that is where the action is.

"You have a very beautiful face," says the older pox marked Mexican gentleman over the rack of women's clothing and stacks of glass items.
"Thank you, thank you very much," says I.
"Yeah, you should smile more..."
"Well, I am concentrating..."
The man smiles, "On finding a bargain."
"Yup."
It dragged on. Something this that somsething that, something about if I was told that a lot, I say no, mention I am married, he goes into the "flaunt what you got" speech and he wants to ask me on a date cause you should never stop dating, tells me he is going to give me his number before he leaves Goodwill (high roller, obviously), I tell him I won't take it, nicely...

Then he tells me that he bought a jacket there the week before. While he was cleaning it out, one pocket was filled with toilet paper (gag me with a spoon) but the other pocket had $45 in it (gag me with an expensive spoon filled with caviar).

I wander off. He taps me on the shoulder while I am in the check out line and says, "Remember its the beauty on the inside that counts."

I think we can interpret this last encounter two ways. 1. You are a white bitch who wouldn't take my number. 2. I am a nice old pox marked man and I truly believe in beauty and what do I care if she says no.

I continue to stand in line taking in all the BO and must. The line is not moving. One lady is purchasing every damned item in the women's business casual section and in the next line over there are two gentleman patiently waiting to make their purchases. I have noticed in my thrift shopping there are more men than women on most occassions. Back to the checkout line, one cashier is busy ringing up every item in the women's business casual section and the other has his back turned to the customers and is chatting it up. He is about 35, white, caucasian, and has a GED. One of the men in line clears his throat, giving the guy a "we arrreeee waaaaiiittttinnnggg aaa---hole signal. The cashier turns around, rips the receipt that has been printed out for quite sometime, and gives it to the more patient man who is obviously handicapped. The handicapped man was too scared to say something, something like , "Hey man, talk on your break and give me my receipt before I kick you in the throat."

After Mr. GED hands the man his receipt, he takes his "Lane Closed" sign and puts it up adding, "How do you like them apples, buddy." He later adds he was kidding...but the damage had been done.

I wanted a fight...instead the clearing his throat guy just switched lines, shrugging his shoulders. I happen to notice Mr. GED's employee badge after the incident: Ken, Customer Service Manager. Hahahahahahahaha. Customer service? Really? The have entire conversations with other people while customers are waiting and "them apples" guy is the MANAGER of Customer Service.

I switched to his line, just for kicks. It took him 3 seconds to check out this lady with bloody hands and knuckles. She was looking for a wedding dress for her Bride of Frankenstein costume. Well, she didn't find a dress, but the blood spilt and was ready for smearing.

After the bloody lady stepped outside, Mr. GED began ringing me up Manager of Customer Service style. It took him years to open this box to see what was inside before I purchased it for less than $2. It took him years because he was talking to someone else who was not buying anything, then he was asking the whole store if they had his hand sanitizer because of the bloody lady. I paid careful attention, no blood was swapped.

Then it took him another decade to wrap up my three small items. In this time, I learned these four things about him: He was in Iraq, he has a Mustang, he has a truck that is being worked on because of a recall, and he broke every religious item in his mother's house. What I didn't learn was what Customer Service is all about.

Sidenote, he handed me the "bloody pen" he was so worried about and I said, "Thanks for the bloody pen man." He apologized while I was stepping out into the hood sunset.

Anyway, the Goodwill always has some action.

Faithsalutes the Goodwill because they put people to work and they apparently promote from within.

I laugh hardest when...

This post is not for the faint of heart or sensitive types, but for those of you who really want to read something today and laugh really hard....read this.

You can thank me later.

Faithsalutes Maddox. He is hilarious.

Weekend Update Version 23908471892.987398

Discarded Fridge, now our new fridge.
Discarded mirror, now our new mirror.

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Conversation in Circle K as told by Mowgli:

Little Dude says to big Dude in convenience store with little girl..."Hey man, have you spent some time in Yuma..."

Big dude replies, "Nah man, do I look I look familiar?" and then continues the conversation by listing all the other prisons he has spent time in and comments how he hopes he won't go back because of his daughter....I hope so too. They should rename our corner Circle K to Convict K.

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Some photos came in this weekend from this last week:

Day 4 of Havasupai Falls hike...looking good.

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Costume party. Went. It was Johnny Frat Sauce style. Some firefighters were there...I don't even know. It was just not my style. I went as Dog the Bounty Hunter. It was mind blowing. I actually looked like Duane Chapman. I painted on a blonde beard and everything. I had 9 children. I had some prison experience.

The best costume I saw: Christopher Reeves in the Superman costume, in wheelchair and using a breathing tube. Inappropriate, maybe. But I rather see that than the thousandth girl in a slutty ensemble.

I voted for the girl I used to play soccer with who came as Marv Albert when he was caught in drag.

She was covered and it was clever.

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Kimora Lee Simmons I do not like so much after seeing her show...she appears to be utlra superficial and "bitchy" and "demanding" and "superficial", did I write that already? And can she say fabulous one more time?

And how ugly is the Baby Phat line? I will buy pretty much anything, brand aside, but that is not worthy of purchase even at Ross on the clearance rack.

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This week is going to be hell. Pray I make it.

huxtables and omo

I cried today when I heard a song sang by Tabu Ley Rochereau, a Congolese artist and former government official, about Omo. Omo is the Tide Detergent of the African continent. You wash your clothes with it, your hair, its like Dr. Bronner's soap...next to water its the next best thing. I think if you swallow it it cures AIDS, or so I heard.

I guess nostalgia struck. I miss OMO. I miss OMO smell and how it stained all my clothes and no 5 gallon bucket of water I carried was going to rinse it out.

We are planning on going to Africa in the spring. I haven't been there in 7 years. Its about time. I read about it, dream about it, and am obsessed...I want to die in Africa in the bush somewhere, rocked to sleep by the village's largest mamma.

Faithsalutes Omo in all its Omo-ness.

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I watched some quick Cosby clips on Youtube, let me correct myself, the Bill Cosby Show...where he doesn't play Bill Cosby, but Heathcliff Huxtable (yes, that is how you spell it...wtf?). By far my favorite TV dad, least favorite name.

Ahhh nolstagia....I thought Denise Huxtable was so rad, but I knew politically we were, well polarized, and she was sort of a slacker and I was completely wrapped up in being perfect that I could not hang with her for too long. I just liked the way she looked. I was a complete whack job when I was a kid. I was more like Alex P. Keaton (Michael J. Fox) on Family Ties when I was 11.

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tricka tricka.

Faithsalutes the Huxtables and the Keatons...

Not technically the Grand Canyon, but close enough, part 3: More Agony, not so much a surprise anymore

It's funny how I planned the most elaborate posts about this trip, and the second I walk in my front door I am completely over the whole idea...in fact it even annoys meself to thunk bouts it.

So here again is a list from my lazy self:

1. Lots of dogs. All sizes, colors, breeds, barking monitors, annoying factors varying, etc. Just lots of freaking dogs down there...some help with the Pack horses/mules and some beg for food at the campsite. I think the Natives should start breeding like the dogs do...KEEP THE TRIBE ALIVE.

2. The water is aquamarine from the limestone and travertine. It was cold, but delightful.

3. The hike out, which is partly straight up, was rough...but not that rough. When I got to the top I paid 3 dollars for some Gatorade. I want my money back from the snack motorhome. Jerks.

4. We ended up hiking with a family I have known for years. The son was my friend in highschool and his sister and I played soccer together. It was good to see old friends and have someone else to talk to and catch up with. Mile 9 in the sand requires some new conversation.

5. We drove through Williams, AZ to eat Mexican food on the way home. Rosa's Place was jammed pack with so much junk...sports memorabilia, old posters, cheesy tourist junk, that I could barely keep down my food. I swigged some coke and jammed the non salted tortilla chips and Pace Picante sqeeze bottle salsa down my throat because I was starving. I believe I will regret eating that sorry excuse for chips and salsa for the rest of my life.

6. On the last stretch of highway we listened to Garth Brook's greatest hits albums. Now, them is sum gud toooones. Flashback to my chilhood when those hits were released.

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We have 2 costume parties to attend this weekend. Can anyone guess what I am going as?

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Faithsalutes salty chips dipped in canyon sweat.

Spanky is finally worth the $80 we paid for her and the hassle of cleaning up after her.

She is barking at sketchy passersby.

Finaaaallllly.

Faithsalutes the pound dog.

Grand Canyon, part 2: Agony and Surprise

I am operating on overload. I will list...too busy with work, etc.

1. Stayed in Grand Canyon Caverns Inn. I thought it was fantastic. But some did not. For example one traveler wrote: "The bathrooms are from WW2, if, not before." The beds were hard, the lamps were discarded at a garage sale and made of faux wood, the picture above the bed was of someone's dad or uncle on a horse blown up at Costco also framed in faux wood , the chandelier was incredibly seventies....oh and the motel was one level and stretched for about 3/4 of a mile. Again, I thought it was fantastic even if I did sleep with one eye open. This place was begging for mass murderer or a stabbing over a bet about buck hides.

2. The "Inn" did provide hot water, cocktails, ping pong, and a pool table. I slept well, my eye one got plenty o' rest.

3. We left at the crack of dawn the next morning. We hiked straight down and then for about 10 miles through sand and gravel. We carried heavy packs. All the necessities. We payed for a mule to carry our food. For every one person there was a mule or two or nine. Because we paid for the mule, we ate very well and drank very well. I highly recommend this to any hiker staying in the canyon for more than one night. Freeze dried food is nasty after one night.

4. On our way to Havasupai Falls we had to trudge through the Havasupai Village. The website is a tinsy bit misleading. Misleading like pop rocks mixed with Coke will make you explode, misleading.

    a. It was filthy.
    b. I only saw two children that were not grossly obese
    c. I only spotted 2 men and 1 woman that were not grossly obese
    d. Modern run down clapboard houses surrounded by trash and discarded appliances, clothing, partially     standing outhouses
    e. 2 churches: 1 church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints and 1 church shaped like a bomb shelter,     not sure of the denomination.
    f. One woman giving water to her horses, to big to stand and do it.
    g. One tranny Havasupai
    h. One Havasupai woman with two tear drops tattooed on the side of her face. We all know that that         means.
    i. One crazy, yelling obscenities Havasupai
    j. etc, etc, etc.   
    h. sweatpants and pseudo gangsta junior high wear is hot this season

5. We hiked out of the village towards the Havasupai and Mooney Falls. We camped betwixt the falls and red canyon walls.

More to come...

Faithsalutes agony over my bad knees and surprise by the culture shock.

PS. The Inter Tribal Council of Arizona would like us to know:

The Havasuw `Baaja, draw their strength from the land, which is sacred. Visitors are asked to preserve the magnificence of the Havasupai homeland and respect their natural resources which contribute to their spiritual direction. All visitors are asked to leave their liquor, drugs, weapons and pets at home and to take their trash out of the canyon.

Uh, would like us to carry out your trash too? Shit. 

Coming Soon my Good Citizens

Coming soon: Grand Canyon part 2 and part 3.

Back and ready for action.

Cara Steiner, talk to me.

Faithsalutes the blistering.

nasty nasty

I am still here....Mowgli is doing his last minute packing...but I had to post something gross.

I bought a "returned" Marmot backpack or "pack" and it was under $30.00. For anyone who knows anything about the outdoors, this was the steal of the century. When we got home a few minutes ago, I started to pack my goods for the trip. And lucky me I found an opened package of VCF stuffed inside. Vagina Contraceptive Film. SOME NASTY, NASTY GRANOLA GIRL WAS PUTTING OUT ON THE TRAIL ENTICING MEN WITH MY (now it's mine) SEXY MARMOT pack.

Maybe I will get lucky too.

Faithsalutes granola feminist trail love.

Grand Canyon Day 1

Well, we are not there yet...I am sitting in my living room. We are leaving today for the Grand Canyon. We will be hiking for the next four days. I am hoping our $60 a night room will have wirelss internet so I can post about all the freaks we see in Northern country this afternoon, but no guarantees. We are staying there one night, before we start out early Sunday morning.

Things you should do while I am gone:
Check out Feist, Kenna, Ting Ting Tings, and flashback to some good solid Mariah Carey hits.
Watch all the Flight of the Conchords seasons on Youtube.
Pray our dog survives 5 days without an obsessive amount of attention.

I am off to REI to purchase a few items before we take off into the great wide crack in the ground.

I had two mojitos last night and now I have a raging headache. REI is the last place on earth I want to go to right now, besides a Poison concert. That would be worse.

See you on Wednesday night....suckers.

Faithsalutes a hike with old man knees.

Blue Period: Death in the fields

(Animals were not harmed during this shoot. Nor did I touch or pose them.)

R.I.P. before Spanky comes and destroys your remains.

Haus

Why didn't the painters paint the chimney? Really, really lazy. I have some paint, I just need to get up there and make it happen now that it is not 3k degrees outside. On the other hand, I wish we were able to sandblast the whole place and go back to the original brick. Why did someone paint the brick? Jerks.

Why did our cacti flip out and grow like that? Why is gravel so ugly? I almost rather have asphalt put down with handicap parking or better yet ice cream cart parking for all the local vendors selling 15 year old popsicles.

Why does my arm look so fat in this picture and my knee look extremely large. Why is Mowgli the most photogenic person I know in the world? Spanky and I suck at this.

I am in my blue period, according to one source.

Faithsalutes the abstract period to come.

Umm, like read that.

Finishing up Fountain Head, which I had never read. I have read the Ayn Rand collection, but for one reason or another had never read one of her more popular novels. Objectivism aside, my friend Dtupac offered to change things up a little bit with a book by David Sedaris entitled Naked. So far, so funny. His writing style is neat and tidy and packaged with naughty, brightly colored bows. I recommend if your serious reading list is weighing you down.

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There is more graffiti on our back garage wall. The wall facing the alley way gets all tagged up with black scribbles. We were hoping for a more artistic feel or at least a tag war, but no...it is just lame town. What's a home owner gotta do to get some decent tagging going on around here? Now I have to cover it with non-matching white paint. Its all about class folks, classy classy.

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I went to Target to buy a dog leash. I saw lots of pink items on sale. Apparently people do not care about Breast Cancer as much as they reportedly do or people just do not like pink cookware. Maybe you could make it black, but make a pink label. Maybe that is enough of a reminder and a good marketing tool. I bought a pink frying pan because we really need one and it was $8.48. But I would prefer that it was black. If I was single or maybe 6 I would go ahead and flip for pink, but I have two large breasts...well one is a little bigger than the other one and I am certain a label is enough awareness for me and my breasts.

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I ate some salami and cheese today and it was so delicious. Remember the salami and cheese combo this week. Never let a good thing die.

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Faithsalutes pink salami.

while in class

instead of listening to the ramblings about IRS forms, i am being a good American and scrolling through photos on this site.

For some reason I think I will eventually come across someone I know or somewhere I have been, but probably not.

Here is to avoiding the government and their evils.

Faithsalutes all those photos I have deleted.

When I was 8

I think I was 7 or 8, I am not really sure. I was in elementary school and I believe I was in second grade. I played soccer back then. My Uncle Rick coached our soccer team. We were called the Rockers. Our uniforms were neon green and black. The team was made up of all boys, me, and a chubby Mexican girl who ran really slow. When we scored a goal my Uncle Rick used to play "We Will Rock you" as loud as the boom box would play it. I remember the other teams and their parents hating our guts. If you scored a goal, my Uncle Rick would buy you a pin of a guitar. I remember riding in his station wagon pulling up to the Mobile gas station where they sold those guitar pins. I wanted one so badly. I played mid-field against mostly boys, so my chances were slim back then. I played mid-field on the left and my crush Sean was on the right.

One night during practice in the hood, my cousins were both throwing hideous fits (which they were once famous for) while my Uncle was threatening to beat them. For the full Hollywood practice effect, a police helicopter was swarming around the soccer field with a spotlight. The helicopter was loud and uncomfortably close. I felt like I was part of a movie set. The Mexican girl stopped practicing and just stared at the helicopter. I think I started waiving frantically like a lone survivor of a plane crash and the rest of the kids started running around like a bunch of crazed lunatics. I will never forget what that night smelled like or sounded like. The grass was freshly cut and there was a hint of irrigation scum in the corners of the field. It was one of the first nights of fall when the air was cooling down in Phoenix. The sound of the helicopter was almost deafening. That was the best soccer practice I have ever had in my life and I played until I was 20. Uncle Rick ended the practice early that night. 

Back to my crush blonde mid fielder crush Sean. I wrote him a love letter once. I wrote the letter in my house on 3rd Ave. I had some stationary that was pink and my friend Shealyn helped me write it. It was in cursive, fancy.... I was so nervous to give it to him. I finally did and my cousins and the rest of the team made fun of me. With anxiety running high, I had to count on my obnoxious consistency and make sure I was next to him in every drill, line up, and huddle. I could hardly think straight, but I was sure my letter was absolutely going to win him over. I had so much confidence in my cursive (HAHA). I vaguely remember him saying he liked me too, but after that I don't remember anything significant taking place, probably because nothing did because we were little kids. Well, except I got to sit next to him in the back seat of my Uncle's station wagon on the way home from a game. Tingly, tingly.

Rocker player Sean was replaced by the infamous John Dube at Valley Cathedral Christian School.

My Uncle Rick passed away a few years ago. I loved him so much.

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when you just can't grin and bare it.

i am home still. it is 2:07 PM. i could not bring myself to leave the house today. instead i have cried, read, ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, weighed myself twice, and wrote a letter. i don't want to leave my house today. i feel defeated.

some days you just need to recoup for no reason at all. i think some may say it is a selfish act, but i think not. i think it is healthy to hide here and there.

even my dog has slept all day. i have tried to inspire her, but she just wants to lay on her bed.

back in action tomorrow.

faithsalutes days off for no reason.

hit, wham, bam

Hey, you know what is awesome about being stuck in traffic because of an accident three miles ahead of you and the CEO of a reputable bank is waiting for you at a restaurant? I will tell you what is awesome...being hit by someone who doesn't speak English and making you even more late. Bring on the insurance companies, I just adore insurance companies.

Sweet Mary Mother of God, I love being in car accidents on the freeway. I felt special, unique, cute even...

Faithsalutes accidentes.

My people

One wise soul whispered in my ear when I was in Santa Cruz "These are your people." He was right. I added their blogs to my list on the left hand side.

I love them all.

xoxoxo
that one girl with the man voice

One year down, 60 to go

On Sunday Mowgli and I celebrated our one year anniversary. One whole year...time flies when you are having fun and wanting to kill each other all at the same time. This year has gone by more quickly than any other. I am sort of waiting for time to slow down, you move to fast, you've got to make the morning last (Simon and Garfunkle). In celebration, I ate a twice baked potato (favorite food on earth) and Mowgli had Jumbalaya. The jumbalaya made him sick. Classic. I was fat and happy, Mowgli was hunched over with a stomach ache.  So, what did we do....we did what any other classy couple would do, watched Jurassic Park on TV and went to bed on our anniversary. Before you start crying....

We are actually celebrating next week with a 4 day Grand Canyon hike. Some people don't think this is a reason to celebrate, but for us....it is celebratory and necessary. Just to get out of the city, to do something different, to breathe fresh air, and to drink alcohol. The mules carry most of the weight...so my bum knees get a rest. But my thumb won't.

I fell down a grassy hill in heels. Wait it gets better...a grassy hill covered with a wedding party and at the bottom of the hill? All of the wedding guests. I was assisting Paperpony in her shooting, so I was backtracking with a giant camera in one hand. I wanted to save my knees and the camera, so my thumb fell victim to all of my weight. Someone caught it on video. Cannot wait til that starts circulating on Youtube. I would love to be famous.

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Being in Santa Cruz this past weekend was absolutely incredible, and I will tell you why. Because I was able to spend time with the people I love. MS, RB, KB, AR, AR, EA, AJ, AJ, LL, ML, JL, KL, GS, DO, AO, DG, AG, MN, DN, SG, etc, etc, etc. I miss you people. I love you people, I am hoping we win the lottery so we can assimilate in Santa Cruz again one day. Thank you for being my friends. And thanks for the laughing and dancing...I felt like a whole new me when I left....fresh and encouraged.

The other part about Santa Cruz that made me tingly...the lush green everything and the crashing waves at the beach. The bad tattoos and wet suited bodies. The long virgin hair and piercings. The perfectly crooked teeth and old Volvos. The freaks downtown and the abundance of zip up jackets and sweatshirts. Chill Out Cafe and the smell of mold. Surfboards and contests. From Watsonville to Natural Bridges, it is all part of me forever.

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I just walked outside to put change into a parking meter. I forgot it was construction worker lunch hour. There are three large buildings going up all around my office. This means for every one woman in this building, there are ten construction workers outside waiting to whistle and hiss. I made the mistake of not taking that into consideration when parking this morning. With no exaggeration, I would guess there were over 60 construction workers leaned up against a wall during the lunch hour. I only got one whistle today. So, potentially one out of every sixty men approve, even when I am in black high heels. Because all of my self confidence is derived from people whistling at me and of course this is the only way any respectable woman is able to pick her mate these days, I consider myself lucky. If Mowgli ever decides he cannot stand one more minute of this, I have about a one in sixty chance of sealing the deal with a member of the opposite sex in the *construction business.

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More to come...have to run to eat at the Cheesecake factory for lunch. I despise that place, but it is for a meeting and I did not book the meeting...so I am in silent protest.

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PS Somebody said it sounds like I don't like my dog too much after reading my blog. I am not going to be telling you wonderfully gushy stories about my dog. They are boring to write and even more boring to read. So for the record, I am in love with my dog, but you will most likely only hear the naughty bits.

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Faithsalutes friends in the construction business, where you define service.

*My father along with many other fathers I know put food on the table for years by working days at the construction site. I used to wake up at 4 or 5 AM and eat pancakes with my dad before he would head off to work. Those are some of my favorite childhood memories. I am more concerned with the whistling than the profession itself.

SWF and the crosswalk to Santa Cruz

I see you, honey...that is why I slowed down 50 yards out and then stopped 7 feet from the sidewalk and waited....gave you the go ahead nod.

Don't you dare sway your head at me in disgust. I was overly conscious of your presence, overly aware, overly cautious.

This time I am going to say something out of my window..."It's a crosswalk, of course I am stopping....!"

(I hope no one stops gives you the right of way again, after you treat them that way.)

I should be up for a Nobel Peace prize treating her that way.

 

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There was a Toyota Corolla parked outside the house two days ago. Windows down, doors unlocked, ignition missing.

Mowgli called the Po-po. Thems says the vin was stolen, but them license plates were for a Ford truck.

Hood life lesson #448794: If the windows are down on a car in your hood, call the cops, the car was stolen.

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I am headed to Santa Cruz tomorrow. I lived there once. That is where I met Paperpony. That is where I met a hundred people I love. I was in love there, too.  I worked for a surfboard company. I went to school. I was broke.

I hated the cold and I hated the "Hate Free Zone". I hated the rent prices. I hated a lot of things about Santa Cruz, but I miss it. I miss it all the time. I think of it often and wonder why it was never meant to be. I think I will take my kids there in the summer someday and let them experience the Santa Cruz that I loved and then leave behind the Santa Cruz that I hated.

Why didn't the Hate Free Zone do it's job and release me?

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Last night an old friend came by. He lives in Oregon. He gained some weight. He looks better now. He brought me chocolates. I ate one for breakfast. Maybe he eats them for breakfast. Maybe I look better now after gaining weight. I will now have a piece of chocolate for breakfast each morning.

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Santa Cruz, California....here I come. I know you hate me, but you love to hate me. I come in peace.

Faithsalutes one of the most beautiful places to be, Santa Cruz.

Article of the MONTH

This article needs to be read and it needs to be read by anyone I interact with or even if there is a slight chance that I might one day interact with you in any way, shape, or form in the future:  the "need" still remains.

Faithsalutes freedom of speech. Right Doan?

Family Day

I have one niece and one nephew. I am obviously completely and madly in love with them. Here is Cael, my nephew in a sink.

He smiles constantly. He is a giant man baby. He will be a brilliant warrior one day.

Grandmother Blog

My grandmother is getting in on the blogging world. She is a phenomenal artist who is starting to trade ATC (Artist Trading Cards). Check her newly launched blog out...and remember the items you see, almost all were drawn by hand (check out the large angel on the drawing she did for my brother Levi), colored in by hand, etc. Stop by her blog and say hello.

Her name is Susan...I love her.

Faithsalutes starving artists.

Bad Leadership on Crack

I am presenting tonight on Barbara Kellerman's book, Bad Leadership. Her book is compelling and very well written. I am enjoying every second of it, because she is constantly reminding the reader that Bad Leadership is only as bad as its enablers or followers...

In her book she discusses Marion Barry Jr. And I don't know about you, but I am still enthralled with this character. He is one SOB, but elected 4 times as Mayor of Washington DC, despite his intemperate leadership. Cocaine, prostitutes, embezzelment...the list goes on and on.

I thought I would include this link to a clip by none other than Chris Rock.

"Don't vote for crack, vote for smack."

Faithsalutes..."don't get high, you be nuttin'"...."uh, I could be Mayor."

Because I love torture

I decided to leave an assignment to last minute. Tomorrow night I have a presentation on a book that I have not read...the presentation includes 25 copies of a 8 page book summary...ouch.

All nighter, freshman year of college style.

I am an idiot.

Did I mention that I stumped Mowgli on an NFL factoid. YESSSSSSSSS!

Faithsalutes coca cola.

This is how I feel about BACON

I recommed you look up Jim Gaffigan and start of your week right.

Back in the Saddle

Let’s talk about songs that make you want to dance, literally get up outtcha ya seat and shakey shake it. Whitney “pre-psycho” Houston’s “ I Wanna Dance with Somebody” had got to be on my top ten list of songs that make me want to really get in the mood to boogie. My next interpretive dance to be debuted will be to this song. Try to make it to my next party, this will be one my best ever.

Taking turns with the Ipod on a long road trip I think truly reveals the core of someone. After conversation and bathing patterns, music selection could be the next best thing. Mowgli and I take turns and I am still surprised by the two or three songs he chooses to play when it is his turn.

This weekend was a whirlwind tour of Southern California and Spanky Loo came along for the ride.

After attending a small wedding reception at Geoffry’s in Malibu, we headed to UCLA for a dog excursion. Mowgli had a meeting in Westwood, so I grabbed Spanky Loo and let her terrorize my Alma Mater. While terrorizing, I spent time with a good friend who is in Law School there. He is a Persian Muslim and he is dating a Romani girl also studying at UCLA Law. Romani as in Gypsy. Can you imagine the repercussions for that cultural combination? This is where this conversation turns completely inappropriate….so jet if you can’t take incorrectness. A Muslim Gypsy? Watch your back and stash your belongings, isolationism is starting to sound like a fantastic idea. Don’t get me wrong I would trust my own children to live under our friend’s roof, but that combination causes alarms to sound and whistles to blow. I do have this weird fascination with the Romani people. I spend recreational time reading pieces about their world. I am fascinated by their societal norms and the in which their cultural behavior collides with the rest of the Western peoples. I never thought about how the Muslim culture would interact with the Gypsies, but I am going to guess that there would be several folks missing hands. Ten bucks says she goes into Criminal law….defense.

We headed to Laguna Beach for dinner and some interaction with some locals and old friends. One of which had just been freshly tattooed. Martin Luther King, Malcolm X, and Bob Marley are now all a part of his arm forever. I am not sure this was the best decision, but I wonder what people would think if I tattooed Abraham Lincoln, Billy Graham, and Elvis on my arm.

This morning we took Spanky Loo to the dog beach in Huntington. She had no interest in the ocean until she realized that every other dog was taking on the surf to retrieve sticks and neon balls. Once she figured that out, she ran in and out of the water like a crazed surf and turf beast. She had the time of her life, it was like taking your little girl to meet Cinderella at Disneyland. I have never seen a dog seem so completely fulfilled. The only issue we had was our little bitch decided to pick a fight with a three legged dog. Nothing makes you feel worse than your dog starting a fight with a three legged dog. It is like your kid beating up the down syndrome kid on the playground. I felt like throwing up. She played nice with the every dog, all breeds, but she had to go there.

We are heading back to the big A-Z. Rejuvenated by the ocean air. I ache for the ocean and California. Someday, maybe we’ll return.

Thought to myself:

All these truck stops offer great deals on Skoal and Copenhagen, can start chewing on next road trip for cheap. Cheap habits can’t possibly cause harm.

Faithsalutes the Arizona border. Home again, home again jiggity jig.

A new week...

Lawrence part deux

My post was deleted yesterday or something like that, I just realized it did not pop up. How crappy is that...its all been erased from my head already.

I was able to escape again yesterday and go back to the Antique store. While I was there I found one thing that one person is going to be very happy about and it has to do with Fisher Price. Happy Shower you know who....

Simply put, Lawrence keeps getting better. I walked a little further along Mass Street and found more shops and more rad homies and mommies. I love it here, especially after I found out about the Greatland Target and the Super Wal-mart. I am wondering what other small town American towns are out there for me to stomp on and pre-judge. I have been addicted to this Get Rich Slowly blog and moving to a small town to eliminate debt and simplify things sounds more and more attractive. Also, if you want to travel most of the year, keeping living costs low could be the key ingredient in making this happen when married with the ability to work remotely. We want to live abroad for parts of the year. I guess we can get back for football and March Madness. See what a dedicated wife I am? Sheeeeet.

(I am currently watching a presentation for a Cleft Palate-Cranofacial Journal. So interesting. These photos are intense. Cranofacial is a brilliant term to drop into a conversation today. Give it a try. Also Mammology.)

Lawrence is the kind of town you want to be in when bands roll through and maybe, when you want to enroll your kids in school. Truly, I am interested in making a cross country trip to discover towns that make us tick.

I am flying back today and I promise if I see the Gucci lady I am going to flip out and get arrested and die in an airport holding cell.

Oh, I know I mentioned this on the ghost post that never really existed...but I found the Candy Shoppe. I have radar, if you are wondering. My children will love me and have bad teeth. With a selection of every Jelly Belly imaginable, this place was incredible. Sold and sold. I haven't seen any fat people, but I would be fat here. I would eat bread and candy and listen to music.

On my short walk back to my hotel room I stopped at the bread shop again. They give out free slices of bread. GIANT SLICES with all the BUTTER you could possibly slather onto a GIANT slice of bread. I ate lunch there twice. Fresh baked bread is better than a pedicure. Well, that one pedicure that caused me to deal with my severe ingrown toenail. I had to perform surgery myself, twice. I bet this Craniofacial guy couldn't even do that. Wham, bam, nail jam. Just make sure you sterilize, I just risked it. Tetnus shot.

Have to jet for my shuttle. Pray its got more than just me in it, I don't want to be dumped in the Kansas River before I meet Margaret Thatcher. I want to meet her before I die.

Faithsalutes breaded candy.

PS $1.95 appetizers is also something to not complain about....oh happy day.

Lawrence

Kansas gets two thumbs up in my book. Lawrence, Kansas is beautiful, green, rolling hills. Mandy Moore was here last night singing....duh, this place is hipper than hip.

But, before you get to antique shop and check out the Jayhawk hipsters, you get to board a jet aeroplane.

On the plane you have the privilege of listening to the stewardess (not flight attendant, you will see why in a moment) go on and on about her little tiny pet named, wait for it, wait for it...GUCCI. Gucci has a pink this and a pink that and a this and a that and drives a Ferrari and invented the internet. The flight was at 6:30 AM. Shut up. Just shut up. The other manardwess looked like Bob Ross and was in fact "happy" like "happy little trees". He let her ramble on about Gucci from Phoenix to Missouri.

I almost inherited frostbite from Mt. Everest climbers on that damned Southwest flight. Apparently talking about your tiny little rat pet keeps you warm. As the passengers shivered in their jeans and tennis shoes the flight attendant sported shorts and a frosty pink lipstick smile with no sign of frozen.

The airport is adorable and modern and friendly. Cool floors. Speckled and 70's, very euro. Me likes. I especially liked the lady in her late 60's drinking wine and eating fried food at 11 AM. That is what I am talking about. I am hip to those tricks. After a quick bowl of chicken noodle soup, half of which landed on my shirt.....

I had the privilege of catching a shuttle, which I rode for 45 minutes with a complete freak driving the shuttle van under the speed limit. He had the same voice as the comic book dealer on the Simpsons (who in fact has no name). But instead of talking about comic book characters, he talked about Alaska and his family's castle in Scotland, which apparently is only one in 5 in the world built the way it is built, according to his research. He showed me a photo on his black iPod. I am not sure on his research, but okay, I believe him. It has two moats.

I pointed out a few things on the road, he said he had never noticed until I pointed it out. He told me he has been driving that route for 12 years. 12 years, wow. He did let me charge my phone in his car that made up for the creepiness. I can hang with creeps; I become their non creepy friend. He was my friend by minute 20 into the trip. Because he was my friend, he stopped at the Missouri river so I could take some shots with the digital.

Arrived in Lawrence without too much bruising. My room is beautiful. You don't get to say that about many hotel rooms at this rate. I am staying at the Eldridge Hotel. Dark wood, 20 foot ceilings, beautiful details, blah, blah. I recommend. But, why would you come to Lawrence you are probably asking yourself. Let me tell you why...no annoying accents, first of all....(Ha.)

Besides being beautiful, almost every band worth listening to plays here or is formed here. The antiques are so cheap it makes Target seem like a complete rip off. I purchased three items: A vintage Uncle Sam bank, yellow earrings, and a salt and pepper shaker set of little Japanese figurines. I broke my other favorite shakers...black and white Statues of Liberty after moving to the Valley of the Sun.

Oh, and the downtown is pretty and there are very cool restaurants, well they look cool.... any town with a large university population really benefits from it with the "cool factor." Some girl tried to sell me True Religion Jeans. I was like, "UH, look here sister, I am no way shape or form wearing True Religion Jeans. I don't want my ass to be covered in white stitching and overrated pocket design like all the wanna be men in Silver Lake." She of course had no idea what I was talking about, but I passed on the jeans for what Lawrence really has to offer, more antiques. I am going to head out and pick some more up today.

After a little antique shopping in my very cool little black dress and boots, I slept. I woke up for an awkward cocktail party. Until I forced myself on Julie, I was looking for an emergency exit. Julie is a mom of 2, married for 19 years, and loves mid century modern furniture, home design, jewelry, and having a damn good time. I heart Julie. We have plans to buy up everything Kansas is throwing away and sell it to Californians.

There is more, I am sure...but this post is already long enough and I don't even read posts on blogs. I just look at pictures here and there on most of them. I only read a select few that are longer than one paragraph.

Faithsalutes Lawrence. I feel all growed up here. But I am by far the youngest in this editorial crowd.

PS The women behind me are talking so much crap, about everyone...I am very happy they don't know me, but I am sure they will throw their fiery darts if and when I get up to use the Ladies.

things i thought in my head today

on the sidewalk:
"awww yes, dyed wayne newton style. i like where you are going with this little man. black is back."

walking by construction site:
"that kitten could live forever off of the junk the workers leave behind, that's the life for a bastard kitty. No OSHA here, folks."

in the library:
"that is absolutely incredible, is this back in the ghetto favor? i have to remember clearly for a blog post. those nails are longer than my bangs. Okay, memorize colors: green, orange, brown, black. green, orange, brown black. splattered. splattered. How does she flip pages? How does she deal with feminine hygiene? That hair almost matches those nails. I love this flava."

on the first floor:
"why is it that every time i come down here a cop is flirting with the receptionist or just hanging out in the lobby. i know where some crime is going down like a block away. Sheeeet."

in my car:
"oh no you di'int"

to do lists

walk dog(s)
drop dog(s) off
buy toothbrush holder/travel bottles
send in parking ticket, because stamp fell off and was returned
remind someone to water our new grass on Wednesday and Thursday
write Copy Editing contract send to RP and PB
write 2 reject letters for Manuscripts: POSTPONED
email Good Will Workforce Development Coordinator with questions
Research 3 other sources for midterm paper due on Thursday and check them out
check out "Bad Leadership" by Barbara Kellerman from Burton Barr downtown library
Pack for Kansas (started packing at lunch, realized the need to do laundry.) So One Load of Laundry.
Book Shuttle from Kansas City to Lawrence.
Check into flight online and print boarding pass
Call Sallie Mae
Check weather in KS, so I know what to pack
Contact Ebsco Publishing
Look up Quest for Kids per conversation
Go to Class: 5:30-8:30 PM
Feed Myself
Email potential reviewers for Journal
Straighten out publishing calendars in progress
Charge camera
Pull up schools "I" is applying to and look at personal statements

I think that is all for now, but I am not sure.

Inspired by my favorite list maker, you know who you are.

PS get Southwest Reward Member number. Cleaning staff threw away.

PPS Create Marketing flyer for meeting and send Journal to Atlanta government offices

PPPS Send Thank you letter to Director of Arizona Refugee Community Center and Modern C

PPPPS Regular work duties

packed

i bought some boots and a dress on super sale. i love these boots and i love this dress. no, that is not me, but some hot model. paperpony thinks the boots are little too cowboy/ranch...but have no fear.  i turn everything into Eurotrash Cruise wear. that is my goal.

we went to Gold Lion on 5th St. and Camelback and bought our friend a vintage clutch and a little pair of earrings for her birthday. we suggest you go there and shop. we watched The Jane Austen Book Club. we went to a birthday gathering, well 2 of them. we got grass in part of the backyard. we were handed a mangy miniature poodle whose owner is in Europe right now and needed care. we all fell in love with the little dog. charlie we call him. we gave the black poodle a trim with kitchen scissors. we watched crappy television late at night on E!. we left the nail salon because the fumes were too much and my cousin passed out on my wedding day at that same nail salon almost exactly a year ago. we got out of there fast. we ate yummy breakfast food. we consumed lime tostitos and caramel chews. we held babies and chatted it up with toddlers. we went to ikea to return some blasted hinges and eat meatballs. 

we...paperpony, mowgli and i or a combination of mowgli and i or paperpony and i or all three.

and i cried thrice for one reason or another.

crying hurts so good.

i am in a rush at work and home. i will be in kansas for a few days at an editorial/publishing conference. lawrence, kansas. never been to kansas. nor my little dog. i will be sure to bring my favorite pair of bright shiny red heels and click them around a bit. makes some wishes.

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when we pulled up to the front of our little house on sunday there was a little crowd gathered in front of our honda. they were eating corn. they were leaned up against our car eating corn. corn juice was gushing onto the hood. when we got a little closer we realized their age and let is pass. they were over 65. if you are over 65 and don't speak English and want to spill your corn juice on our Honda...oh well. i have more important things to worry about. i ran inside and got the camera, but by then the crowd was moving on...i cannot find the cord for the camera, so you will just have to believe me. though, i do have three other witnesses.

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never order ice cream from sonic. it is nasty. it is powder and grains mashed up with sugar water. blech. paperpony and i had to rectify the situation...we went to the DQ and got ourselves a real dessert. A dipped cone and a Sundae. half of it landed on paperpony's shirt, but hey...she is pregnant and she is now spilling for two. one of which is an unborn child...you think he has the coordination skills to hold up a dipped cone and keep it all in his mouth. i think not. she is just keeping it real.

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tupac shakur is originally from New York but then moved to Baltimore.  he did not arrive on the West Coast and help the media kick start this imaginary west coast vs. east coast rivalry until he was out of prison. then he headed to the west coast to eat El Pollo Loco. tupac loved el pollo loco. california love.
when he was in poetic justice with Janet Jackson her people insisted he have an AIDS test. i wonder if his people asked her to take a crazy test. Mark here if you are a Jackson XXX. Results are in: You are crazy.

i watched bits and pieces of a film on tupac last night. he was quite intriguing to watch. very articulate. very much in love with jada pinkett smith, they grew up together.

now, when i pass by the travel van on the other side of the freeway overpass that sells blankets with hello kitty, arizona cardinlas, selena, and tupac...i will appreciate the on going legacy of *2 Pac.

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Faithsalutes corn on the cob sprinkled with Thug Life.

*Not to be confused with commentator dtupac.