Friday, January 21, 2005

Meltdown Commencing.... 10...9...8...

Going on hiatus for a little while. 7...6...5...4...



LeafyGreen.org will soon cease to exist, but I'll let you know where Idiosyncratic Life ends up. It might take a little while for me to get Big Stupid Sucky Life back to being merely Idiosyncratic, but I'll let you know when it gets there..



3... 2... 1



:)

Meltdown Commencing.... 10...9...8...

Going on hiatus for a little while. 7...6...5...4...



LeafyGreen.org will soon cease to exist, but I'll let you know where Idiosyncratic Life ends up. It might take a little while for me to get Big Stupid Sucky Life back to being merely Idiosyncratic, but I'll let you know when it gets there..



3... 2... 1



:)

Thursday, January 13, 2005

Eating Humble Pie

Hey, Foot, you remember Mouth, right? It's only been... what, five minutes since I last stuck you two together? Mmmm...

Eating Humble Pie

Hey, Foot, you remember Mouth, right? It's only been... what, five minutes since I last stuck you two together? Mmmm...

Sunday, January 09, 2005

"Olajumoke, I love you"

I was out walking the dog, who started to do the three-legged hop she does when the salt on the icy sidewalk hurts her paws, when I found a love letter on the street.



"Before Bedtime 10:48 p.m." it begins.



The writer is from Nigeria, I think. A quick google search or two of phrases I don't recognize calls up Nigerian newspapers, radio stations, musicians. The sender is writing in English, though it's clearly not her first language. "You my angel," she writes. "You had been a menthol to my life."



I'm not sure how to find the man who dropped this, but it's too beautiful to leave on the gritty asphalt.



"Olajumoke, I love you"

I was out walking the dog, who started to do the three-legged hop she does when the salt on the icy sidewalk hurts her paws, when I found a love letter on the street.



"Before Bedtime 10:48 p.m." it begins.



The writer is from Nigeria, I think. A quick google search or two of phrases I don't recognize calls up Nigerian newspapers, radio stations, musicians. The sender is writing in English, though it's clearly not her first language. "You my angel," she writes. "You had been a menthol to my life."



I'm not sure how to find the man who dropped this, but it's too beautiful to leave on the gritty asphalt.



Friday, January 07, 2005

What? Wait.... WHAT?

Today I redeemed one of my Christmas gift certificates to a fancy-schmancy makeup boutique here in Stepford. I bought some fresh, top-of-the-line grown-up makeup, and I got a technique lesson, which was sort of nice.



The makeup artist was nice. I brought in my own makeup to see what worked and didn't work with the new stuff, and I thanked her for being honest and not pushing me to buy stuff I didn't need. She commented that she used to work somewhere where people would try to make customers feel bad about the state of their nails or whatever to talk them into acrylic tips. Blah.



So I told her that I fell for that once in college, and then I told her about a different time when I was getting a facial at Beaux Visages (say it with me, Kel) before I moved to Florida. The Beaux Visages woman told me that men would love me in Miami, because "Latin men love meaty women. They say that 'meat is for the man, and bone is for the dog.' And I was like, What? Wait.... WHAT? But she was atacking my pores with needle-nosed tweezers at the time, so I felt like sitting up and screaming, "Did you just call me 'meaty?!?!'" wasn't really an option. I did go back later and ask for my money back on a line of skin care products she guilted me into, and I told her manager about the meaty thing.



So today, the Fancy-Schmancy Makeup Artist was appropriately amused and surprised by my story. Then she said, "Where was this?" So I said, "Oh, at a spa in my hometown in PA." She leaned in really close, and asked, "Was she Korean?"



What? Wait.... WHAT?



What does *that* mean? I sort of laughed and spluttered "No." And she didn't push it.



On the other hand, when I was photographing Passive-Aggressive Bride and Groom's engagement portraits back in October, there were a lot of sight-seeing tours at the state park where we were shooting.



It was a prime leaf-peeping weekend, and a lot of groups of tourists and senior citizens were walking around the lake, taking pictures, etc. When we were done, the Groom was like, "Did you see all the Oriental people looking at your camera?" And I said, "Oh, people are always curious about my gear." So he said, "No, but you know how Orientals love taking pictures." So I said, "No, I don't know. I think it's a tourist thing." And he said, "I think it's an Oriental thing."



I was surprised he pushed it. I wish I were surprised he said it.

What? Wait.... WHAT?

Today I redeemed one of my Christmas gift certificates to a fancy-schmancy makeup boutique here in Stepford. I bought some fresh, top-of-the-line grown-up makeup, and I got a technique lesson, which was sort of nice.



The makeup artist was nice. I brought in my own makeup to see what worked and didn't work with the new stuff, and I thanked her for being honest and not pushing me to buy stuff I didn't need. She commented that she used to work somewhere where people would try to make customers feel bad about the state of their nails or whatever to talk them into acrylic tips. Blah.



So I told her that I fell for that once in college, and then I told her about a different time when I was getting a facial at Beaux Visages (say it with me, Kel) before I moved to Florida. The Beaux Visages woman told me that men would love me in Miami, because "Latin men love meaty women. They say that 'meat is for the man, and bone is for the dog.' And I was like, What? Wait.... WHAT? But she was atacking my pores with needle-nosed tweezers at the time, so I felt like sitting up and screaming, "Did you just call me 'meaty?!?!'" wasn't really an option. I did go back later and ask for my money back on a line of skin care products she guilted me into, and I told her manager about the meaty thing.



So today, the Fancy-Schmancy Makeup Artist was appropriately amused and surprised by my story. Then she said, "Where was this?" So I said, "Oh, at a spa in my hometown in PA." She leaned in really close, and asked, "Was she Korean?"



What? Wait.... WHAT?



What does *that* mean? I sort of laughed and spluttered "No." And she didn't push it.



On the other hand, when I was photographing Passive-Aggressive Bride and Groom's engagement portraits back in October, there were a lot of sight-seeing tours at the state park where we were shooting.



It was a prime leaf-peeping weekend, and a lot of groups of tourists and senior citizens were walking around the lake, taking pictures, etc. When we were done, the Groom was like, "Did you see all the Oriental people looking at your camera?" And I said, "Oh, people are always curious about my gear." So he said, "No, but you know how Orientals love taking pictures." So I said, "No, I don't know. I think it's a tourist thing." And he said, "I think it's an Oriental thing."



I was surprised he pushed it. I wish I were surprised he said it.