Bubbee hugs a sheep


( There is no composition, only the montage )

Here's a magical garbage can along the Enchanted Highway.


( Road Trip! )

We're back from the crazy road trip, but we have a traffic jam of photos so you get this boring "I only slept 4 hours last night and then went to mother's day" post first.

Heather and Andy took me out to the PALOMINO. It was fancy. There were bleu cheese and waffle fries involved.

( More? MORE! )

I took the best squirrel picture that anyone has ever taken ever.

EVER!



eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

Oh there will be much more of this in the future, but for now, a test run.

Tod talks about his asshole.


Me stuck on a pirate in Wisconsin Dells and Jacquie chooses to capture the moment rather than save me.


I don't remember this video being taken but on September 27th 2006 Tony asks me "apples or corn?" and my answer is "am I eating or pooping?" and then I wait for like 15 seconds, start bouncing up and down and burst into hysterical laughter and fall down. I am the strangest person I know.




oooh, dry ice in coffee!

Today I saw two doctors, ate Indian food, made up the phrase "tipsy typing" even though the internet knew it already, made a joke about sitars in context, and spontaneously composed a haiku. I feel accomplished.

For Rob:

If you want people
to dance naked at your wake
don't die in winter

There was so much birthday, it lasted for days. I hope you like chest hair.


( Because that's what you're going to get. )

How have I not known and loved this man before?

I've totally found the 30th birthday group dance number song.



*fixxored!

I've been dancing around my house like a fool since I got home and have purchased and downloaded his CD already. wheeeee!

I realized yesterday that one of my nostrils is significantly larger than the other.

I am Rosario Dawson except without super-hotness.

It's a good thing I have more important things to think about.

...
.
..
.
.
.

I was borneded! My mother just called to tell me that I'm 28 years and 3 hours and ten minutes old. How exciting!

The hideously large amount of pictures I'm posting start before the birthday though, so enjoy!


( more pictures of me than usual, many varietals of grandparents, dogs, some back fat, pictures of Ian without a beard, and lots of birthday party goodness )

The psych ward is always unsurprisingly creepy whenever I visit it, which since I've known Sarah is about once a year. She is as well as can be expected, but everybody else is either schizophrenic or has a unnaturally small head and is very angry about something.

There was the fun girl whose voices told her that she had to leave her house because it was going to explode. She explained to the voices that she was only wearing panties and it was cold out, but the voices were all like "we don't care!" so she went outside in only panties and no shirt, and then the voices told her to pick flowers so she picked flowers until she was suddenly surrounded by policemen while topless and ripping up clumps of grass in the park. There was also an angry lady who was incapable of modulating the level of her voice and said everything in a yell. She had drawn a picture of a "rock star" that looked strikingly like Ali G and for some reason had an "idea pocket" on his shirt that was labeled as such and decorated with question marks. There was the girl who was crying because she tried to take a shower but when she got out and tried to dry off her towel was "covered in blood".

Let's just say it's a day that I'm very grateful to have been blessed with only moderately malfunctioning brain chemistry. Now I will wind down from all of the crazy with some Dead Like Me.

Tomorrow is the 5th annual "Yay For Not Dying Day" and I'm thinking about celebrating by making dinner for Audrey and sitting around talking about our feelings and petting the cats. I'm officially an old lady. My birthday party is still this weekend and completely unrelated to "Yay For Not Dying Day" despite what you may have heard. Give me a call if you'd like to come out and require details.

In other news, I was driving to meet friends for dinner when I noticed a pack of four very cheerful and very dirty King Charles Spaniels running along 34th Avenue. With considerable effort, I chased them in my car until they stopped to play with an unleashed pitbull, piled all four of them into my back seat and drove them to animal control, where they were picked up by their mommy within a day or two (I called to check). My car is really stinky, but I have fun pictures and will post them soon.

I think I might wrangle Ian into a road trip to Oregon in the coming months. Perhaps Ms. Angie will sit on the kids for me if she is so inclined.

Lately, some days have been hard days and some have been sad days, and some have been amazingly beautiful and joyful. Life is a wild ride and I'm frequently awed by it and consistantly grateful to be here.

I'm going to go visit Sarah in the horspital and free her from the crazy ward for an hour. I imagine 2-for-$3 fish fillets will be involved. Don't wait up.

I'm going to have a birthday. You should save Saturday the 22nd of March, since my actual birthday is on a Monday and that would be not conducive to a large fun fun gathering.

I'm guessing it will be pretty much like last year with dinner at a sushi place somewhere and then bar time elsewhere, and possibly a strip club after that, except that I sincerely request that none of you commit suicide this year. I would be glad to assist any and all of you, including any strangers who are reading this by chance, people I dislike, creepy ex-boyfriends, and anyone who made fun of me in high school with a ride to the hospital or other aid in locating mental health care or emergency assistance if you feel like you are a danger to yourself or others, but if your mind is made up, please choose a different day to do the deed. Black humor is part of why you like me.

If you don't want to call me, please call hopeline. 1-800-442-HOPE(4673)

http://www.hopeline.com/

More party details will come as I figure them out and such.

( Rob and me )

I went to a northstars rollergirls bout. It was much better than I expected, and fun to watch though the lighting was terrible for photography. I highly suggest sitting on the floor in the danger ring if your hips can manage it. I've never seen up so much skirt in all my life.


( a bazillion pictures of people and babies and dogs and Jacquie )

Still have that picture post coming. I'm just feeling drained and unfunny, but it's slowly getting better.

Today I almost made my boss spit out food. We were talking about an awkward conversation he had where he said "And then you started smoking crack" to someone and they were like "actually, yes."

I said "that's like making 'your mom' jokes to someone whose mother is dead... Or actually a prostitute."

Things are gonna change, I can feel it.

*Also, here's Gabe's 30th birthday present from me:
http://stereotypist.livejournal.com/105891.html?nc=7&style=mine

Besides being sad and gross, eating cows is really bad for the environment. Please note, this NY Times article is written by someone who is not a vegetarian.

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/01/27/weekinreview/27bittman.html?em&ex=1201669200&en=3f189a22ce28dc36&ei=5087%0A

I found this a day or two after having a relatively lengthy conversation in the comments about Brian's "Kill Something" day here:

http://boneal01.livejournal.com/179799.html?nc=21

I don't know. I don't have all the answers. These are just the things I think about.

It's about that time, kids.


( mostly Jacquie, Jimmy, pictures of TV and partial nudity )

Too awesome for cuts

I've always known I have a weird dog. This picture is from a morning two houses ago where boogie had gotten into the garbage and when I woke up, I found him dead asleep in his little nest of trash with his face in a dairy queen cup. When my laughter roused him, he lifted his head, looked at me like this, made sleepy-happy mouth noises inside the cup and then laid his head back down and went right back to sleep.


This morning about an hour ago I woke up to a loud banging noise. I ran downstairs and found that Kitchu had opened the front door somehow and gotten outside (I probably didn't close it tightly enough when I was saying goodnight to Cloe and Sarah) and was now banging the outer door back and forth repeatedly trying to get back in. The house was freezing. I let him in, then proceeded to frantically search for shitty mittens. I found her in a few minutes, thankfully still safely inside. Only then do I take a look at boogie on the couch, who instead of trying to escape into the cold night while the front door was open, decided to put on a sweatshirt.

His head is completely through the neck hole. One arm is also through the neck hole and the other arm is still inside the sweatshirt. I know that I've dressed him in the past, but that was only for my own amusement. Unless I did this in some sort of complete xanax coma, the dog put on a sweatshirt when he got cold. I'm so amused and so confused all at once.

*Edit*( pointlessly added kitty goodness )