A Warning

Eating 10 packs of sweet and low in an 8 hour period is similar to chasing a hit of cocaine with a laxative...not that I would know.

Please tell me everyone has stories from their childhood involving farris wheels an coffee torture.

My recent trip inspired me to reflect on the many vacations I took as a child. We traveled a lot. My last name should have been Jolie-Pitt. Maybe I’ll look into getting it changed. Although we were hardly on the frontlines promoting world peace, we most certainly were being relentlessly photographed by the paparazzi…and by paparazzi I mean my mom.

We used to drive to New Mexico at least once every year to see family. It is a 14 hour drive. We started going down there when I was around 10 which means my younger sisters would have been 7 and 4. That is a kind of torture the government needs to look into. Chain the "knower of information" to the wall and make them endure 3 kids, 10 and under, for 14 hours. It would be a lot less bloody, and everyone would leave with all their fingernails. Anyway. On one trip my grandma crashed the car into the guard rail (which stopped us from plummeting down a cliff) when she fell asleep at the wheel. None of us were hurt, but I did cause a full glass of hot coffee to be dumped on my crotch while I was sleeping. I think I was an awkward 12 or 13 at the time. There was no rest stop in sight so I had to change clothes in front of everyone. It was AWESOME!!! It only proves that sleeping on the floor of a moving vehicle is not a good idea. shocker.



Different Trip.Place: The amusement park Frontier City (a.k.a gateway to hell) . We all get on the farris wheel. When we get to the very top a huge storm roles in. It was the kind of storm that always happens in movies at the exact moment someone is trying to escape something, or realizes they really need to make out. Maybe rain lets off a pheromone that sends a signal that says KISS RIGHT NOW OR THE WORLD WILL END!!! Well, since I was related to everyone in the gondola it was decided we needed to escape not make out. We were at the very top, the sky was black, and it was lightening. I smoked a cigarette and watched everyone else scream. Okay, so I didn’t smoke. But I don’t remember being that scared, most likely because I was in a tremendous amount of shock because of my mom’s reaction. She was screaming profanity off the top of the farris wheel. I don’t think I had ever really heard my mom cuss before that point, and she whipped out every word in the book. The farris wheel conductor man got an earful….along with the rest of Frontier City. I am sure there were parents holding their hands over their kid’s ears crying and praying for mercy as they thought the day of judgment was there, and God was a PMSing woman. Eventually we made it off sans cuts, bruises, and lightening strikes. It was all worth it knowing that I now have an everlasting memory of my mom yelling like a drunken sailor. O childhood, how I miss you so. (Actual farris wheel o' death pictured....terrifying isn't it.)

What do most people do on vacations?

Run through the hotel at one in the morning to escape a fire that is engulfing the building? If you are a part of my weekend vacation than yes, that is exactly what you would do. I should clarify that the "fire" turned out to be the result of some idiot's decision to parade their stupidity around like they were starting a movement to promote mindless acts of idiocy. In their attempt to make their movement public the ringleader attempted to extinguish what in their mind must have looked like something being swallowed whole by flames. (Probably seen with the help of cocaine, most likely snorted off of a toilet seat.) Lesson from this: Don't use a fire extinguisher unless you have an actual FIRE, symbolic fire does not count. (Specifically if you are in a hotel.) They release enough smoke to bring down King Kong and will cause an earsplitting noise to pierce the ears of many potentially irate people who will find you and force you to listen to Kenny G and eat gluttonous amounts of creamed peas. Yes. I am that mean.

Secondly, 17 year old girls are weird. I know I used to be one. However, I fully remember using complete sentences without having to delve into my word bank and reuse. Apparently someone has been brainwashing these young things and now like every other like word is like like. Like I am like totally like not kidding. You're like totally like irritated with me like right now, aren't you? Drive me up a wall and shoot me. I just about lost my patience on a couple occasions but stopped myself short of yelling anything profane and causing 2 teenage girls to cry the tears of a misunderstood generation. What has happened to me? I used a filter, I fear I am loosing my edge....No (laughter under my breath) That will never happen.

Creativity is taking over my life...well, creativity and business

Alright, it is the post you have all been waiting for. The introduction of the stuff I have been talking about so vaguely for the past two months....here, and here, oh and here. Well not only do you get to hear about it, you get to see it. The anticipation is killing you isn't it.

I am going to abbreviate this because it is a rather long story. The basic premise is I have my own line of distressed clothing. I buy new or lightly used jeans and hoodies (at this point, much more to come) totally mess them up with the help of bleach and scissors. I then make it awesome with paint, patches, embroidery, buttons, beads, whatever I think is cool. They are getting marketed by the brilliant Lisa Strange. This weekend they will be traveling to Washington D.C. and next they will be going to Iowa. There is a store in KC that is selling them already...although she doesn't have the best jeans and I have been slacking in getting stuff to her because I am trying to build inventory at the moment. However, if you are interested in having your jeans painted I will be doing a promotional painting session that costs $10 a pair (for charity) this Thursday. It will be from 6-9 @ Retrophilia .

I had a photo shot this past weekend. It showcases the hoodies. In the future I will not be the model. In a couple weeks there will be another shoot with people who actually have asses to fill out the jeans. Anyway, if you don't know Brooke Raymond a. you should, and b. she is a rockstar photographer. She is the one who did the shoot, she is awesome.

http://flickr.com/photos/brooke/sets/72057594081567267/ here is the link!!!Enjoy.

Weird needs about 12 more letters, all of which are consonants, to fully explain my life.

For whatever reason people who were given more than their allotment of weird in their DNA are very drawn to me. My life has definitely been seasoned by these types of people. (Sometimes a little rosemary makes something just that much better. There are also times when it is more reminiscent of getting cayenne pepper poured directly into your eyes.) Some become close friends, others remain legends in the vault of stories I carry with me, and whip out when I am reminded of them. This weekend only added to the stories.

I was walking out of Wal-Mart when I hear
"Excuse Me?"
I, thinking I must have dropped something/ left my card behind/ had a wide open fly said
"Yes"
The woman staring at me then asks "Are you Jewish?"
To which I quizzically respond "No.?."
Her reply was "Oh, I couldn't tell."

I know what you are all thinking. No, I was not running around the store screaming "SHALOM!!!!" at the top of my lungs. I didn't even so much as step into the Kosher food section.

To cap off the whole story I saw her driving away and she drove a big white car with huge red letters on the side that read "HAVE A MITZVAH TODAY!"

Next story: Place: Target. The one in Ward Parkway. It is my favorite not because of the selection, but because of the staff, they are always doing crazy things. Singing at the top of their lungs while they ring me up, you know the usual.

Surprisingly it was not the staff doing weird things this trip. First, I see a mom and son (about 10 years old) in the underwear section. The mom looks at the boy and says "you are wired.." in a "seriously child if you don't stop running in place and screaming I will not hesitate to put this bra over your head and make you run around the store saying I am a pretty little girl" sort of way and proceeds to dump a bottle of aquafina on his head. As she does this the boy yells "I AM STILL WIRED!!!"

Then when I am leaving the bathroom a brother and sister come into THE WOMAN'S BATHROOM!!! The boy is about 12 or 13 so it isn't like he needs help or doesn't realize there's a difference. I don't know why he was in there. He did feel the need to share that he was probably going to "cut the cheese." I really appreciated that warning.

I think if these encounters suddenly ended I would not know how to function. How do you react when you are surrounded by perfect socially acceptable beings?! That is a kind of alternate universe I don't want to go to, it just isn't fun. And to be quite honest most the people I love wouldn't be there.

Holy Skunk Pelts Batman! We're being FOLLOWED!!!!!!

This + this = Sarah's worst nightmare! I wish I would have had a video camera in my car yesterday. Sarah and I were in my car on the way back to her house after dinner. We pull up to a stop light and without even a flinch Sarah looks at me and says “that is the worst toupee I have ever seen.” That was the understatement of the year. This elderly (I am not exaggerating) man had what looked like a skunk pelt that he took a curling iron to on his head. We began noticing that he was staring at us. Let me take this opportunity to define stare in this instance. By stare I mean eyes squinting, face scrunched to half its size and his nose had to be no less than ½ an inch from the window. (I blame Sarah. She was sitting closest to him. Don’t show that cute face off girl…unless you want some old man lovin’….I fear I may have just lost a friend.) It was then we realized this man was pacing us. I just sat there staring at him because I wanted him to know I saw him, and that I could kick his butt if he tried anything. Luckily I was wearing a sleeveless shirt so I could show off my massive guns. The next stoplight we came to I stopped about 20 feet behind the car in front of me to see what the dude was trying to pull. He stopped right next to my car. It should be noted that there were no cars in front of him. Sarah had yet to see the mug I had been staring at. I don’t think I have ever seen her so freaked out. She claims that face will give her nightmares…which may actually be true. I don’t think I can put words to the kind of strange this face was. I decided that since there are cars behind me and I haven’t had a turn signal on now would be the time to lose him. I slam on the gas and make a really quick left turn. It is really good I had the “bat out of hell” button installed. Sarah then sees the man turn around in a parking lot and did something I have never seen or heard her do in our nearly 7 year friendship. She screamed at the top of her lungs, which makes me start laughing because it was so unexpected. I went to bed last night and just started laughing hysterically because I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Thanks Sarah, It was a great car ride.

Sorry. Not Sorry.

I am sorry that...

No one I am friends with got to watch a webcast of our home office being invaded by an old woman dressed as a fairy spouting off lewd comments and trying to get things out of mens back pockets with her wand. And they paid her to do it. Did I mention that it was broadcast to about 13,000 employees?

Sometimes I wear fuzzy socks and try to "ice skate" on our wood floors, and usually end up making a loud thud.

I have eaten half a bag of mint patties today.

I wasn't there when my boss was at a client's house (inside) and was told in all seriousness to watch out for gliders (flying squirrels.)

I have a habit of turning ordinary sentences into raps, and then seeing how long I can freestyle before I run out of rhyming words.

I take up more than the allotted decibels for my size.

the music in Pride and Prejudice makes me want to do an old ballet bar routine.

In an effort to make where I grew up cutting edge I cut all the neighborkid's bangs to approximately 1/2 inch of fuzz when I was 6.

I am not really sorry.