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December 14, 2007

Strawberry Crush.

According to  everyone, it's Blog Crush Day.  Alas, I cannot reveal a Blog Crush (minus my husband, of course) because I can't remember the last time I stopped to read a blog, much less develop a crush on it. Life has been sans commercials lately. Workworkworkpicketworkwritepicketworkbloggroceryshopwalkdogworkblogvlogwaitisthatmyhusbandwork.  I barely have enough time to pee.  So instead of actual content, today I'll just provide a few old photos that others have deemed crushworthy.

Tags

Fatal


Meandmermaid


I can be further Flickr-stalked here.

...

 

Now on to blog hatecrushes! She called me fat.  Purchasing her recently-expired domain name: dick move or the ultimate in nerd revenge?

...

Don't forget! Will and I will be at Bar Lubitsch at 8pm this Monday, December 17th if any LA blogfolk want to come hang out, and see what a cheap date I become after working for fourteen hours straight! If you don't see us in the front room, make sure to check out the back (there's a room behind the bathrooms.)  Also, no matter what Will tells you, I do think handjobs are cheating.  Unless he pays for it, and then it's just business.  Feel free to email me for details.  (About the meetup, for handjobs you're on your own.)

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October 31, 2007

Happy Daisy Makeoutz Day.

Pictures from my last three Halloweens:

Batkiss

2004. Daisy as bat and me dressed, well, normally.  For my Halloween Cocktail Party.  (And no, that's not a wig.)


Zombiekiss

2005.  For the Zombie Dinner Party.  Me dressed as Zombie Starlet, Daisy dressed as Zombie Petey from the Little Rascals. (And that is a wig.)


Skeletonkiss

2006.  For my Halloween Hangout. Daisy dressed as the Devil, me dressed as, well, me.

2007 marks the first year that I haven't had a party, although I certainly have plenty to celebrate. Maybe I'll don that Princess Leia outfit and Mr. Boy and I will----oh, dammit.  Maybe I won't

Another year of Daisy Makeoutz for me!

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October 08, 2007

What 35 Looks Like.

Birthdayone

My charming and handsome husband, Mr. Boy, the organizer for the evening.

Birthdaytwo

Lenora Claire and AgentLover

Birthdaythree

The TDR!

Birthdayfour

And N()mi, as we recreate this photo.


If last night was any indication, 35 is going to be amazingly hot, incredibly delicious, and pretty damn boobtacular. 

(More photos here and here.)



August 12, 2007

Vintage Vamp.

Vintagevamp

Avec gimlet.  Musso & Frank's 8/11/2007


The rest of the Golden Girls GALS Gone Wild! set here.

July 31, 2007

The Straight Poop.

If you follow this-here blog, which according to my stat tracker (which tells me things like 'what happens if you keep pretending to have sex with a pillow for years?' is a search string that brought one of you here, yes, I'm looking at you) is always shockingly more than I would have thought (although my expectations remain low as far as that's concerned), you would have noticed that I neglected to write yesterday. 

Why?  Because I was in the shit.

Literally.

No, it's not another poop tub (the horror...the horror!), but a SlackDailyReader dropped out of the sky and offered me a monthlong freelance copyediting/writing gig.  Why yes, I said, I'd be happy to,  and I did the little Freelance Dance of Glee (which is similar to Will's Naked Dancing Shaving Cream Man, but minus a penis).  Monday morning at 6:30am (said job is on the Right Coast) found me posterior plastered to couch and prepared to copyedit 'til the cows came home. 

Which I did.  On over three hundred pages.

About diarrhea.

As I added periods and removed dashes and corrected spelling and eyeballed formatting, I stashed away a bevy or fecal funnies to be hauled out for blogtime.  But then it was 4:30pm and I needed to shower and walk a WonderDog and head to Job #2.  9pm found me returning home, exhausted and sweaty and headachy.  A few moments with Mr. Boy and then I crawled back into bed to start the process all over again.

I adore feeling useful.  It's even better when I'm getting paid for it.  And poop?  Icing on the cake.


*****

And now for something completely different:

Occasionally I am asked about my 'process' when it comes to writing scripts or creating pitches to sell.  My process is that I sit down and write something.  I don't really talk about it, because I find talking about writing - much like writing about writing - insanely boring. 

I feel the same way about blogging in that this is such an inherently navel-gazing medium that the desire to get all meta about it seems beyond self-indulgent.  But I'm going to indulge for just a moment.

People have been cropping up everywhere complaining about how boring Will and I are, or how they're sick of hearing every last detail of our relationship.

My question is: who's forcing you to watch?

Are there Detective-Agency-Camps where you're strapped down, Clockwork-Orange style and made to endure hours and hours of me babbling into the camera or Will musing about midgets?  Yes, I know about trolls but do they not understand that even if you don't like us, you feed our ego by watching? Reading?  Paying attention?  The response is usually akin to you suck so much that I can't look away which trust me, I totally understand (helloooo hatecrush!)

But in Blogland, there's no such thing as a bad touch.

I can only assume that said people haven't figured out how to close their browser window or tabs, so I've included a handy keyboard-shortcut reference guide below. 

Internet Explorer: Ctrl-W will close the current window.
Firefox:
Apple-W will close the current tab.
Safari:   Apple-W will close the current tab.

You can call me boring and dumb and fat and ugly and unfunny...but don't ever say that I don't care!

 

May 15, 2007

Slack vs. Slack!

Excuse the double-posting, but I just wanted to share.

Theslack_2


versus


Weddingslack

(photo by Leah!)

--and--

342694314_7813a79099


versus

Stare

(both photos by my friend Myra!)

April 17, 2007

Before & After.

BEFORE:
Ex-roommate's pee-stained room.

Beforeexroommate


AFTER:
Happy puppy bedtime!

Afterbedroom

BEFORE:
A perfectly adequate living room.

Beforelivingroom


AFTER:
A detective agency.

Afterlivingroom

 

BEFORE:
My 4'8"baba climbs gutters at 75 years old.  I am around 200 pounds and can barely climb a set of stairs without dying.

Before1997


AFTER:
I'm a shade under 160 pounds and I spin five to six days a week, sometimes taking two classes a day.

Reflection


 

BEFORE:
Bad orthodonists can ruin your face. Mine "fixed" my overbite by moving my upper jaw back instead of my lower jaw forward.  For over 30 years, I never allowed anyone to take a candid photo or a shot of my profile.

AFTER:
Good jaw surgeons are worth their weight in gold. I finally look like what I was supposed to look like.  Take all the photos you'd like.

Beforeaftersurgery


(My surgery x-rays here, and you can see more after photos of the apartment on my Flickr!)





March 13, 2007

Wedding Dress (Black!) and Blues...

I was feeling out of sorts this morning.  Y'see, today I had planned to go shopping for my wedding dress, but it occurred to me mere hours before I was supposed to be at the showroom that I should have made sure one of my female friends was available to come with me.  Once again, I was proving to be bad at this bride thing.  This week's Consumating Question was Where are you headed?  I wrote

I'm headed out in about an hour to go try on what I hope will be my wedding dress. It's a bizarre feeling, as I've never even imagined myself being married at all. We weren't going to make a big deal out of it, not because we don't think marriage is a big deal, but because we're more excited about being married to each other than the whole wedding part.

Is it weird that the idea of being married to this boy makes me happier than I've ever thought possible but the idea of being a bride makes me sad?

Dressed in a polka-dotted skirt, black shirt and my favorite shoes (with a dose of melancholy for added measure) I hurried to  throw on some makeup before heading out for my 2pm appointment.  Dear readers, you may be shocked to read this, but the slackmistress is not a delicate flower.  I am not slim or lithe or graceful, I am not naturally rosy nor apple-cheeked.  And as my Eastern European Ancestry dictates, I am not hairless.  I had no forehead when I was born, instead, from my eyebrows (which grew in straight and bushy) back to what should have been my hairline, I was covered in what could only be called fur. For the most part, it went away, save for a wee bit on the outer edge of my eyebrow.  As the hair is fine, I normally just take a razor to it.  Which I've done a thousand times.

Except today, I shaved off half of my eyebrow.

The plus is that it'll grow back within the week, but now I was one friend and half an eyebrow short to go shopping for a dress.

Mypicture

Thank dog for eyebrow pencils.

With Daisy in her crate and my heels that I planned to wear tucked into a bag, I hopped in my car and pointed it toward downtown.  Traffic was terrible and I was nearly thirty minutes late.  Yvette, who I had emailed with, was extremely kind but we were all wilting a bit form the heat. I reminded her about the dress that I was interested in, and she brought it out.

It had been the first thing that caught my eye when I started looking for dresses, and the one that I kept coming back to.  As she took the plastic sheet off the dress, my heart dropped.

It looked...eh.

It wasn't satin, as I had thought, but the lightest of stretchy velvet.  The hemline didn't swoop, it just sort of hung.  I thanked her, took the hanger, and struggled out of my clothes in the tiny dressing room.   The bra I was wearing was all wrong and I wasn't wearing any sort of pantyhose or tights.  I'm such a moron, I though as I slipped the dress over my head,  strapped on my heels, and pulled aside the privacy curtain.  I didn't even bother to look at myself in the mirror.

Weren't you talking about getting a custom dress? one of the women asked me.

Yup, that was me.

I think you've already got it.

She zipped me up the last little bit and I turned to look at myself in the mirror.

Img_0305

Okay, maybe I wasn't too bad at this after all.


A few notes about the dress and the picture:

  • They say it's bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her dress before the wedding. Call me crazy, but I think things like communication, honesty, and copious amounts of sex are better predictors of how this whole thing's gonna work. 
  • Yes, I'm wearing black for my wedding.  If you are so old-fashioned to think that's inappropriate, I should suggest that if we're operating under such antiquated rules, I shouldn't be allowed to wear white at my wedding.
  • The reason it looks huge in the boobal area is that it's unzipped in back.  I was about to take it off and then remembered that I had brought my camera.
  • While this was the first I tried on, I did check out a few more just to be suresure.  And I bought another dress just for fun.  SlackMom and SlackDad have been extremely generous and I didn't want to take advantage of that, but I was assured by SlackMom that at $230 (total for both), I'm still running a total wedding dress bargain.

February 27, 2007

Tuesdays with the Bargiels.

Img_0233

avec younger slackbrother j.

Nothing much to say today.  I'll catch up with all y'all tomorrow.

February 10, 2007

A Day in Pictures, Part II.

One.
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Two.
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Three.
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