ON ACCEPTING THE FRENCH IDEA OF GENIUS:

Click the pic to go to the flickr page and see more.

http://www.translationsintupperware.com/HomePage.html

It's worth a look.

Okay, so great paper from women's studies on defining third wave feminism. What is it? Does it even exist? Brilliant. Although I could have told her, duh, it exists...it is very difficult to define. But, brilliantly she incorperates the difficulty of defining the central tenants of a third wave feminism as part of the definition of a third wave feminism. BRILLIANT!

So, third wave feminsm is defined by individuality and empowerment (rather than victimization) and also by a resistance to lines and divisions (even at times a resistance to the label "feminist/feminism") because there is a fear that such lines and the stark definition of a type of feminism would implicate dictation and regulation of the lives of individuals in an inflexible way that would pit one side of any individual against either themselves or others...so third wave feminism rejects the binary thinking that creates divisions among groups and focuses on the individual for the most part, so the central struggle becomes the freedom for individuals to make their own decisions without having to struggle against opressive laws that would stifle their ability to decide for themselves the best course of action for their lives. HA HA! Look, I sound like Mary Daly only without the clever jargon like "phallocracy" and "dick-tator." Anyway a very clever paper I read. Discuss, bitches. (ah, the true voice of a third wave feminist...regardless of gender, sexuality, and orientation, you are all bitches to me!)

Okay, first of all....MY FREAKING DRESS FITS, oh yes, it fits. And only two months ago it barely zipped, now there is no tugging, no pulling, nothing zzzzzipp! The only alteration that needs to happen is to the chestal area (no surprise there). But tommorrow I am back on the diet, in hopes to drop maybe another 5 pounds in the next twenty days, maybe my oobies will get smaller? Probebly not, in my junior year of high school I was 108 pounds and I still wore a 34 DD (with my size 4 jeans...waaaahhh!) so, the chance that I'll fit my tots into this dress are slim to crap...someday, oh someday, breast reduction, you will be mine. In the mean time I have a nice flowered wrap to cover up the major cleavage this halter-style dress produces.

The shower went off mostly sans hitches, and turned out lovely. My aunt whose mother is british (a war bride like your gramma surfer), said that I had everything exactly right for high tea. Yeah me! Here is a rundown of my weekend.

Friday: Called off work and gathered stuff, got rental car (which turned out to be a shitty red neon...with no CD player!) and hit the road at around 4:30 p.m. Since all I had was CDs I stopped at the outlet mall across the indiana border and bought a book on tape, "Spine Chilling Stories of Horror and Suspense" which turned out to be less spine chilling and horror filled, suspenseful than they had advertised, although quite nice (Vincent Price narrated Beranice). My mom called me when I was about an hour away and said I should meet them somewhere because they wanted me to look at a jeep sport for sale so I did, and was sad because it was a very nice jeep, with very low mileage for the cheeeeeep, but alas twas only a rear-wheel drive so sux to that in the MI snow. Then I took my momma and her friend jo downtown to drop jo off at her hotel (she was in this week for the tole convention...if you do not know what tole is, please raise your hand and I will try to explain). Then momma and I hauled ass across columbus to canal winchester and our waiting famblies. Said hey, ate a snack, lil'bob went home and I went to bed, but since I can't sleep alone I read "The Giver" (thanks Rabbit). So, asleep maybe at 4ish? 5ish? am and then awoken at 8:30 am.

Saturday: 8:30 am wake up call, scramble, scramble. Pick up Heather "cookie", at her work downtown, haul it northside to the big mall, Macy's (nice skirt for Mandie at the momma's insistence), Kaufmann's (hat for mandie at momma's insistence), 8 dozen pissy little stores looking for shoes we never found, TGIFridays for a salad (momma had a long island iced tea, cookie had a beer), and then on our way back to the parking lot I passed something amazing, so amazing I think I went into shock: there, in the doorway of the Ralph Lauren store, the most beautiful boy I have ever seen (a model from the ads/catalog) standing shirtless and barefoot in jeans with the edge of his R.L boxers peeking just above the waistband. Silence. There were four of us momma, cookie, teeny and me...blah blah blah and then silence for about 30 seconds as we walked past and down the center of the mall, and then my momma said "I can't breathe." and I looked at her and said, "I know, my chest feels all tight." Heather just looked shocked, and Tena said "Holy shit! That maniquin is talking. Holy shit, that's a guy. Holy shit, he's not real, he can't be real." In fact...HOLY SHIT!!!!! I have seen many beautiful menfolk, but in all seriousness I have never, NEVER seen anything like him before. Unreal. I think if I had looked any longer I might have passed out. (I for real am not exaggerating, it was like looking at god. I almost cried.) Okay, so after divine vision: flower factory (a wholesale flower and crap store), and back to drop cookie off. Then home to drop tena off, then pick up man-maw, then to anderson's, sam's club and popeye's chicken. Then, eath, senior center, whore-ma's, back home, fix shower games, collect decorations, organize, print games, search through photos, and done, kick lil'bob and heath out...it is now 12:30 am. I am pooped. I go to sleep on the couch because manma has the guest bed, and I pass out around 2 despite the itchy uncomfortableness of the couch. At 3 ish? in the morning some doggies decide that my face is a great place to lay, and then they won't leave me alone, so I gather a pillow, and a throw and head to lil'bob's old room where I sleep on the bare floor. In the morning when my momma comes to wake me up, she can't find me anywhere and decides that I have been abducted so she runs yelling through the house only to find me on the floor yelling back "good god damn, woman, shut the hell up, who would steal me?" I have tossed and turned all night, it is 8 am.

Sunday: dress, makeup, pack the car, hit the grocery store, senior center, make scones, set up decorations/tables/buffet, make all other food (tons) and put shoes back on to greet guests (whew), have fun shower (ack), interact and be cheerful (no cussing). When the shower is over, wash dishes, tear down, pack up, dance with dad (we're practicing), and get back to the house at 6 p.m. unpack shower stuff (see shawn for the first time all weekend), pack up my stuff and take off. I am on the road by 7 pm and I don't get home until 1:30 in the morning. About 40 miles from home I get really tired, and although I said I would pull over if that happened there is no way I am stopping 40 miles from home, so...I crank the AC, crank the radio, guzzle a diet coke and motor through (singing at the top of my lungs to bad Yes songs). When I get home I'm deliriously dumb and have a caffine buzz that won't quit. So, in bed at 2 am, wide awake and panicking at 6 am, again at 8 am, up at 9 am and returning the rental car. TIRED. Tired. tired. only 40 minutes of work left. So tired.

This was a dull entry, but it will keep me from repeating the mundane bits. For shower details and skuttlebutt on the crazy folk, call me bitches.

We made 80 ish jingle bell wands for my sister's wedding, we RULE...well, rabbit rules!

So, my little porkrinds, I will be leaving tommorrow, in my fat rental car: A/C, CD Player, cup holder (...fucking cup holders? What is that? I love cars with cup holders, I have never owned one, and now I get to drive one all weekend? I will return spoiled and pampered with the promise of a safely balanced beverage...how can I go back to those rickity plastic in-the-window 1980s OddLots cup holders. My life is a 3 pack of OddLots window beverage holders for 99 cents!) So, no LJ for me, I have scones to back, and cream to clot, and brides to hypnotize into kindness and out of panic attacks. See ya'll monday.
Kiss my cupholding ass.

Too bad it's already gone on eBay.

http://www.disturbingauctions.com/

Okay. So, since you are all brilliant please send idears, here is the plan as of today.

SLEEPOVER CAMP (if you haven't seen this movie you are lame, if you have you are lamer) LIVING ROOM:
1. The tent is going up. (An added bonus, somebody/bodies can sleep in it later on ...a portable guest room)
2. The x-mas tree, sans lights and decorations, is a going up.
3. Am draping couches with red and black flannel.
4. I don't think I need to say "lots of body parts" but I will.
5. A few tree branches here and there. Maybe some fake shrubs, flowers? (dead of course).
6. I am thinking about how to make a faux campfire/fireplace somewhere in the room...I am at a loss, but feel it would be an excellent addition to the theme.
7. Camping props: flashlights, canteens, sleeping bags, bedrolls, an axe (duh), lanterns, hiking boots, backpacks, birds (those gross ones I have...ewh), maybe the werewolf (although he is working against the scene really...but wolf...that's outside-ish).
8. What if I threaded some smaller branches through/around the light fixture in the middle of the ceiling? That might cast some cool shadows around the room.

Any other strange/wonderful things ya'll can suggest?

The themes for the other rooms are as follows:
Dining room: either a continuation of the camp/slaughter theme or...Miss Havisham's wedding.
Kitchen: Dr. Frankenstein's Laboratory (I think I need to make a Frankenstein's monster for this!)
Office: Make out room/Sin den
Bathroom: draped in plastic sheeting, blood everywhere

Always open for suggestions on those rooms too.

Guy on box o' cocks is not him...but I sd I would spank him on the butt next time I saw him anyway. He sd he was naughty...Rabbit was laughing uproariously...funny stuff.

Now we get noodles. NOOoooooOOOOODLES!

http://www.bust.com/images/homepage/woman5.gif



for those of ya'll who don't know, bust is the best.

www.bust.com

Our Top Story:

I burnt my finger making my sis a b-d present. It involved an unfortunate error in glue gun operation. The worst part about a glue gun burn is that one must wait for the glue to cool before removing the glue, but usually by that time you're pretty much screwed. Luckily, the resulting blister (located on the tip of my middle finger, and making it difficult to type...how I suffer for my friends, really) didn't peel off when the glue did. Martha Stewart is suddenly feeling ashamed, but has no idea that it's because her tips on glue gun safety went unheeded, again. This is my fourth or fifth glue gun injury. NO, I don't think I would be better off with some elmer's school glue, because, quite frankly, it just doesn't hold glitter and beads the way hot glue does. Sometimes one has to suffer in order to create art; most of the time the suffering is internal, either emotional or mental, but sometimes, just sometimes, that suffering involves extremely hot glue sticking to sensitive surfaces, like fingers and inner thighs. (I have a scar from that one! Whooo hoo. It hurt like shit, and please take my advice when I say never, ever, ever use a hot glue gun to glue something while you hold it mid-air over your shorts wearing legs.) Art is pain, my friends...just ask the goth kids working at cinnabon, they'll tell you.

In other news: I have cramps, and that was too much information.

In other, other news: I bought one of those big workout balls, and it is a lot of fun to roll around on. But, Roy is a pervert who makes everything seem dirty, when it is not. So what I like to bounce up and down on my big blue ball?

And lastly: I realized how slimfast diets work, I am allowed to eat 2 slimfast meal replacement bars/drinks per day, have 3 snacks, and one real meal. Guess what? I don't want to eat those nasty bars anymore, but I will, because I am a chubbo. So, I am allowed to eat what I don't want to eat, and since I don't want to eat it I don't eat anything. Right now all I want is some freaking ramen noodles, or some cheese, or maybe a bologna sandwich, but I can't have that. ARGH! I've got PMS munchies, it's too late in the day to drink soda, and I can't eat anything I want, so I'm just gonna bitch and drink water all night. I will bitch about my finger, my fat butt, and anything else I want to, because I want a bologna sandwich: "BACK OFF ME I'M STARVING!!!" Eh, maybe I'll eat an orange.

Ta Ta for now...The End.