Apparently

(Edouard Leon Theodore Mesens- Masque servant à injurier les esthètes. Ironically, I got yelled at for taking this.)

The verdict: I'm still batspit, but my blog title has changed and the address multiplied, apparently.

because you needed one more thing on your to-do list

1. down the rabbit hole

2. meanadic

3. batspit

4. a meanad's revival

5. overwhelmed and underimpressed

6. batspits

7. capricorn sun

8. apparently

10. 342735

11. my other glasses

12. awake, absurd

13. absurdly bat

14. if you were me

15. bat in retrograde

I need a new new new blog. I just can't figure out what I want to call it. I want it to be short, unique, easy to spell, and I want it to fit me.

This compels me to ask myself what it is I think my blog will accomplish, what it will be about- what I'm about.

In thirty seconds:

I write. I live, I take photos, I study people, I read, I write. I am cute as a fucking button, I smoke, I do dishes, I help little old ladies and small defenseless spiders, I was an oxymoron until that became too trendy. I'm what you wish your sister was like. [my thirty seconds ended here] I don't know why I write, or what I hope to accomplish from this blog. I just write. And shoot. And sometimes I hit "publish".

-

So pick me a name.

Seriously. I'm open to suggestions. I just thought I'd give you 15 or so as a start.

The land of sun and tanning spas

I would tell you about the Vegas airport; my first adventures with legal gambling and the overwhelming number of size 16 booty-shorts on orange women who bounced and oozed like prostitutes at a crack convention- I would probably tell you about the eventful trip to the apple store, where I met geniuses, an NFL player and briefly the face of god. Or maybe I’d tell you how fun it is to shoe-watch in L. A. (like people watching but lower). I’d tell you about my day at the Getty, how good it is to be near someone who thinks I’m funny; but it’s too. fucking. hot.

Like -3 humidity, I swear.

see, they even got me talking like them. It’s the sun. And all the smog. It does something horrible to your voice- makes you sound both ignorant and pretentious at the same time—oooooh I love L.A.

My eyes hurt. All I want to do is hide in the shade of smoke from these awesome pink cigarettes and drown myself in iced coffee.

If typewriters could dream

A minimalist animation (Typolution) set to the music of Ratatat- I had to share. If typewriters could dream, it would be like this.

Down the Rabbit Hole

BEST movie about procrastination- for when you need to kill a few minutes.

No one told me I was in the news!



I want one I want one I WANT ONE! (go ahead and turn the sound off for these next two)

Drowning is Exhausting

I should make banana bread. Otherwise I’ll have banana wine when I get home from this two-week trip. I'm nervous about leaving all my plants. There’s no way my sister will remember to water all of them (Sister? Are you reading? GO WATER MY PLANTS).

I spent most of yesterday in a beautiful old pond with my friend Rob. At one point I dove in, forgetting I was wearing my beloved (I can’t help it if they’re trendy) white-framed sunglasses. I knew it was almost time for my annual sunglasses sacrifice, but did they have to take my favorite pair? I tried to drive to the cold, muddy depths but panicked when something touched my face. I screamed (yes still underwater) and took in a teaspoon or so of pond water (water you can both taste and chew). Laughing at me as I spewed, sputtered and coughed, Rob neatly dived in (a 9.5 on the Lea scale of dives, I’d have to say) and gleefully exploded from the water minutes later, sunglasses in hand.

We may now confidently add monkey feet and ability to see in murky water to Rob’s (admittedly peculiar) list of talents.

(Full disclosure: I promised him I'd blog about his heroics in return for my shades.)



And, for those of you that asked, I did survive the wedding- went so late and left so early I didn’t have to deal with him at all. And my cousin was, of course, beautiful and I’m glad I got to see and hug her.

Objects in mirror are EXACTLY as they appear

and the (only) side view mirror fell out and landed on the cement, shattered but still held together by the felt pad it was glued to. As with anything automotive, it was a fucking adventure fixing it. But I did it. Myself.

Naming the monster

My aunt treated my to a haircut today. She had two appointments booked with Mike (who apparently has quite the waiting list), but her kids were both busy today and Nannie is still too sore for a haircut, so she offered it to me.
I wanted to know if he still charged a fortune and I thought she answered "Oh, it's beyond me", so I said "Um, no, I'm more in the Great Clips range". Apparently she actually said "Oh, it'd be on me", so we both squinted at each other in confusion for a few minutes before one of us broke. But I'm making a short story too long- needless to say I look freaking ADORABLE (but not too adorable)… I even got a little personality profile with it. Before Mike would tell me how he was going to cut my hair he asked me “But how are you going to WEAR this cut? What kind of ATTITUDE will you wear it with?”. He’s an artist. Apparently. Cause even I like my hair.

Tomorrow I’m going to battle the credit card company that has been fucking me like a cat with a spiked dick. Tomorrow I will get my interest reduced and my monthly payments lowered as well. That’s how it has to go if they want to get money from me. Do they still have debtors prison? For some reason I just bet it's filled with people who have ADORABLE (but not too adorable) hair.

Curse of the freckled

I love the sun but the sun does not love me.

I couldn't wear a bra all day. Walked around in a tube top and long sleeved button-up I got from someone.

I only tell you about the tube top to illustrate exactly how much my shoulders hurt today. If you tell anyone I own a tube top (let alone wear one) I'll have to kill you.

Yep. What, you thought this was going to be a real blog post? Maybe next time.

look –over there- what is that?

Do you ever try and write a blog post just so you won’t have to look at the last one you wrote? Yeah, me too. So, here’s a photo I rather like of Goat’s Beard, Tragopogon dubius

I can hope

(Dickcissel, Spiza americana)

My cousin is getting married tomorrow- ordinarily I look forward to weddings with the zest only a cultural anthropologist can bring to ritual drinking and procreation events, but not this one. This one will invariably come with my father, who will either be crazy and embarrassing, drunk and embarrassing, or, (most likely) crazy, drunk and embarrassing. And he will want to talk to me, I’m sure. Will want to tell me about my neglected pets, childhood heroes, now dead or “still hanging on”. Will want to know where I live now, and what I do for a living.
However, there is a small chance that he will feel so… crazy drunk and annoying that he won’t want to go. I can hope, but I know I’m not that lucky.

Wish you were here.

I've eaten 4 quarts of strawberries in 3 days. Eat your heart out, Daniel.