I Can Dig It

Whilst researching ballot measure 65 to ascertain my vote, I discovered that the Oregon state motto is:

"She flies with her own wings"

It doesn't help me determine my vote with regard to the open primary, but I think that's a pretty damn sweet motto.

Best Landscaping Business Name EVER

For the poor of vision, a closer look:


When I officially move up in the world to "bourgeois pig" status, I am totally hiring these guys.

Look! Internets!

I did it, people. I finally took the leap into the land of...paying to be on the lines. Thoroughly modern me, as it were. For instance, it's raining right this second. Heavily. And I can show you, look:


This is wild.

Furniture Is Sexy

At least, my furniture is. Seriously. Marvel at my most recent acquisition:


It also has me all hot for winter. Me! Looking forward to the rainy season! So I can justify curling up on my beautiful chaise longue with a blanket & a book. In my slippers. Mmm, tasty.

Now all I have to do is reupholster it! Which I suspect will not be super-fun for me, but whatever. Just another step in my gradual transition to becoming a girl who can do all sorts of manly things, like hang pictures & fix futons & assemble shelves. It's like there's a river of testosterone coursing through my veins. Anyway. I have already found the fabric to replace the yellow bits. It goes somethin' like this:


Oh yeah. Now I just need to find the right touchably soft (the tactile sensation is absolutely every bit as important as the visual one) solid base color. One that will not only complement the patterned fabric but also go with my olive green walls, orange couch & purple chair. For of the many pejoratives one could hurl my direction, being afraid of color numbers not amongst them.

In other news: Prince is definitely way better than Michael Jackson. I know that's pretty obvious, but every time I answered "Prince", a little voice in my head whispered "Off the Wall...Off the Wall". That voice has been silenced.

And, also, is it just me or does Sarah Palin seem more like George W. Bush as every day passes? Ahem: "Interviews show that Ms. Palin runs an administration that puts a premium on loyalty and secrecy."

For the record, I am really totally pissed at both the Democratic & Republican parties for actually making me care about this election. I mean, beyond my usual research'n'vote approach to elections, I am actually terrified by the thought that one particular candidate might win. Which is funny given that as recently as four years ago, I said that he was the only major party candidate who would get my vote in a presidential election. That was before he turned into a pandering, groveling jackass.

Whoa

So, my scary new medication says DON'T GET PREGNANT (along with some other rather frightening "don't's" & "you coulds" (like, um, I could GO BLIND. Jesus) in 12 million different places. But this is truly priceless:


I am saving these. Every last pill-encasing NO BABIES one of them. A wonderful, yet-to-be-imagined destiny awaits them.

Also - dig that price:



So, I took my first pill last night. This is how much it cost to get to that point: $1,118. Pre-health insurance. For a drug that could make me go blind, hear voices, burn a hole in my esophagus if I don't swallow it completely, &/or give me Flipper babies. Nosebleeds are the most innocuous side effect on the list. Post-health insurance? I've dished out $30. I cannot imagine trying to exist in this country without health insurance. Holy crap.

Also, note to self: DO NOT ignore recommendation to take with food. Learned that one awful quick!

Say Hello, Part II!

About a month ago, I bought myself an early birthday present. However, it took me three weeks to name her, & four weeks to shell out the bucks to outfit her. She's not quite pimped out yet, but hey, we got time, it'll happen.

Without further ado, then...this is Clara Bow!



And here is Clara, not quite so lovingly lit, but clad in the jewelry which I purchased for her the other day - flashing head & tail lights; Kryptonite lock; front basket (essential, as Clara's primary function is to transport me to & fro my favorite grocery stores); & helmet (Oregon has no helmet law, but given my propensity to fall down whilst merely walking, the province of April has enacted its own helmet law):



Isn't she delicious? Granted, I'm mildly concerned because she is a single-speed cruiser with a coaster brake, but I knew none of this when I saw her shining at me from a bicycle shop in NW Portland. All I saw was her gleaming iridescent pearly ladypart pinkness. I even coordinated my helmet & headlight choices to mirror the grey accents on the frame. Yes. I am an anal little aesthete. (NB: Bicycle helmets, as I discovered to my chagrin, do not come in "cute". I did my best - pewter with blue & pink bubbles.)

My bicycle lust has been sated! I love Clara. Now I just need to start riding her.

August Staff Picks

I never got around to July. Whatever. FYI, they were: Bonjour Tristesse, Leave Her to Heaven, L'Atalante, Tabu & M. Hulot's Holiday.

But July is so far gone it's practically last July. Besides, August marks a redundantly momentous moment in the life of yours truly: thirty! Yes indeedy. I can't wait. I've been over my twenties for years now. Clearly I needed to honor the occasion within my August staff picks. However, despite my most noble efforts to unearth five decent movies about turning thirty, I ran headfirst into a brick wall at precisely three: 13 Going on 30, Logan's Run & Beautiful Girls. I mean, sure, there are movies about Zach Braff turning 30 & there are movies based on Douglas Coupland books about people turning 30, but...ew. I wouldn't even watch those, let alone "recommend" them. So I instead chose to feature American movies released in 1978. After much thought & careful consideration, I came up with:


Days of Heaven, Terrence Malick, 1978. But of course. Beautiful, stunning, etc. Ignore Gerbil Ass & marvel at the Malickability of it. And give thanks to the gods that made Malick's first choice star, John Travolta, unavailable. Glorious. If we had five copies, I would have made it all five of my picks.

Coming Home, Hal Ashby, 1978. Hmm...so my two most favorite American movie directors of the 1970s, Malick & Ashby, both just happened to release films during the year in which I was born. Oh, AND Haskell Wexler, one of my favorite cinematographers, shot both of them (although Nester Almendros has primary credit for Days, he had to leave the production early.) Coincidence? Sure. But this one's still a keeper, even if it is a bit heavy-handed nowadays. Then again, the more things change... At any rate, I'm absolutely mad for Bruce Dern's last scene; & if you've only seen Jon Voight in, ahem, Zoolander (like me), you're in for a treat! Penelope Milford is excellent as well.

Piranha, Joe Dante, 1978. The evil bastardos team of bound-for-Gremlins Dante & John Sayles (yep, the same one) totally sock it to the campground kiddies! Per the commentary, I apparently have Roger Corman to thank for so delighting my misanthropic inclinations - seems he instituted a maximum-gore-per-reel policy which didn't see fit to save the children. Also, the piranha noise is fabulous AND it all ends in a most fantastically un-PC fashion. Heh. I hear that in the sequel (James Cameron's first movie, if you care) they breed with...wait for it...flying fish. Oh yes.

The Cat from Outer Space, Norman Tokar, 1978. Cats! Well, a cat! From outer space! With Roddy McDowell, who's also from outer space! Although I loved it as a child, this is not a good movie. In fact, when I found out that I'd confused it with That Darn Cat & it didn't feature spunky Hayley Mills as I'd originally thought, I struck it from my list. But then the Donna Summer disco movie Thank God It's Friday turned out be a real stinker, & when I watched Heaven Can Wait I finally admitted that I actively dislike Warren Beatty, & following that I ran out of time to come up with anything else. The cat talks though! And he's all sassy & droll.

Dawn of the Dead, George Romero, 1978. Fine. You want to get all technical, this was released in the U.S. in April 1979. To which I reply, so? It premiered at Cannes in 1978, bitches. Eat my brain. Zombies, a Goblin (or, er, "The Goblins" as they're credited here) soundtrack & a cutesy little satire of American consumerism? Yeah, I stretched the rules for that. Besides, we don't have Attack of the Killer Tomatoes.

For September, I'm doing something French. Either softcore pr0n, or candy-coated movies with realism filling (think The Umbrellas of Cherbourg, which puts my own color sensibilities, of which I feel justly proud, to shame & makes me tear up more the older I get (because of the story, not the colors)) or Robert Bresson. I've not decided which.