Posts

Showing posts with the label jackassery

The New Man List

Since February has been a revertible roll in the hell fires and outright damnation, leaving me with little desire beyond pouring gasoline and lighting a match to it, I deviate from the broken soul, transgressions of life, disasters and other affairs on the sewing machine, and Lifetime Movies via travel to perhaps loose my NOW card.  Okay, really, I probably lost the NOW card ta couple of weeks back when I saw a mouse--in my trash can--and went running to an upstairs neighbor and banged on the door in panic.  To add to that imagery, I was in a pair of well-worn sweats from an alma matter, a pair of Uggs, and since I was home post working hours I was sans bra.  The wife beater, under the hoodie, did not really shield the bounce as I jumped on the bed when my neighbor pulled that mouse out of my house.   Judge me later.   On that note, since it is Leap Day--a damn fictional day that should be an international holiday since what do you do with this day beyond...

Things I Did This Week

Image
Things I did this week: 1. On Friday I went and saw my long time friend debut in his first off-off Broadway play. Our paths have traversed since our college days involving copious amounts of beer and cheap vodka (okay, I was the connoisseur of pure rot gut cherry vodka and Pepsi (we were a Pepsi campus) and he was the consumer of Natty Light . . . and yes, Natty Light trumps the swill cherry vodka I poured down my throat for nastiest of the super-fly po man's brews.   Hands down.  Sorry.  Not Sorry.).  We realized after the show that for the first time in our decades plus evolution I got to watch him on stage and didn't have to do anything back stage. Yea, twisted not-so little secret . . . I was theater tech back in the day.  Haven't done anything with it since some point in my mid 20s I'd guess. Like a jackass, I forget to get a pic of our mugs but rest assured . . . The Actor's Theater held a great three-day run of Exodus's first play Murder...

When We are 80

Image
Since it has been sometime since I posted lackadaisical nonsense . . . okay, not that long , but since the valley of life has thrown me to the weeds in a long, and an undeniable shitstorm of power and persuasion, I escape and release myself through fantasy and humor . . . and as we all know sewing.  Today, enjoy a sewing diversion of sorts. When I am 80 . . . indeed.  Just as I have a to-do list of things for today (like grade, write a letter, pay a bill, finish a lingering article, walk the dog, grade, grade some more, work on another lingering article, read a book for review . . . yawn stretch, are you tired yet?) I have a list of things to do when I am 80.  My bestie and I conference a few times a year, meeting around the globe in airports and hotels, to meet, relax, give talks, make articles, and plot the next one . . . and drink wine and eat chocolate of good quality and seek each city's epic sushi spot (in Amsterdam . . . we found a place, on a side street, that t...

Plaquenil Farts, Socks, and Things Along the Way

Image
And here it is nearly three weeks later and I'm carving some time . . . well, damn, time is getting away from me.  I last left with leaving for the AHA in Washington DC.  Yup.  I even brought the cold with me. Home, the day I took flight from NYC to DC. DC thought I needed snow to feel at home.  Um, DC . . . no.  No snow needed, but thanks for the thought.   And then there is the basis of the AHA . . . The big meeting of historians, not just ones that study the States.  Yawn, stretch, drink some more coffee.  For three days, every year I go, I run non-freaking stop.  As in, at one point, I told my editor that we needed to find chairs or conversing with me would be from the floor.  I was more serious than not.  Damn, just thinking about the three meetings  about random things, one panel presentation, two (or was it three) meetings with editors, coffee with a colleague, coffee with two more, submission of my vita ...

Shears and Dipshits

Image
So . . . I broke down and bought a pair of sewing shears.  Why? Well, your scissors shouldn't click when you cut, and I had a pair of the Fiskers plastic handled cheap ones.  Yup.  I bought those years ago with my Mom, and I've been using them since.  They were long dead, but I kept cutting on.  Why? I am stupid.  So, I bought the shears.  Shears! Oh my god.  I should have bought these years ago.  When I cut the first piece of fabric with them, and it was like slicing through butter, I cried.  Ok, not really.  But, it certainly was close. So, yes, this is a partial ode to these: And of course, if this was a movie hallelujah choruses would be coming up for these: In the long run of things, aside from getting them on sale for 45 percent off, new shears don't mean much to those who don't sew and re sculpt fabric into something new.  Yes, I did write sculpt.  You start out with a flat hunk o...

What Every Women Needs

Image
In 2012 the concept of a woman needing anything beyond her own wit and merit almost seems passe.  Yet, in this world of instant messages, ATMs, debit cards superseding checks, and steel-toes stilettos a women (or, girl if the term--like me--makes you feel a little more hip, at ease, and at peace within your changing skin) should have a little black book–– or a little black digital phone book–– filled with names beyond old lovers, forlorn exs, or divorce lawyers. These are the things, as I tell students, that just make life easier, richer, and full. A list, per se, that I deliver to Women's Studies when I can and to students, friends, and sometimes strangers when I see or feel the need . . . or just plain hate what I am hearing. In no particular order: 1. A former lover, partner du jour if you will, that is no longer a shag buddy.  Just merly a name and number in her book who she can text or call just to say hi.  Why? While not all rel...