Crochetmycrotch.com: home of the crocheted vulva and other vagina - inspired goodies.
Oh this is so coool! I just went and bought several of these to give to my gynecologist and all of the wonderful nurses and helper gals in her office. Last time I gave them tampon dolls -- they're going to go crazy for these. Go check it out, be female positive and support a fiber artist at the same time!
This was a great day : ) Yesterday was a wee bit challenging by comparison. I had a painful and prolonged fight with Scotti that seemed totally unnecessary -- we were both being so defensive and overly-sensitive -- which sucks. Everything ended up alright but it was a much more challenging day than today was.
Oh God, my cat Mouse is throwing up on my bed here, bleh. He eats too fast and gets sick sometimes. He's okay, I mean, I think he's okay, I just can't stop worrying because of all of the cats we've lost through the years and I love and am responsible for him. I've had him checked out and this is just how he is, he's a puker. We even joke about it and when we do imitations of the cats there's a specific Mouse barf sound that Beau and I do that makes everyone who knows him laugh. He kind of talk-barfs. But now I have to deal with the icky barfy mess, sigh, be right back...
My friend Susan dropped by pretty late tonight, around eleven I think. I'm pretty shy, although most people don't know this about me, and I don't see too many people these days. I just keep to my little group of Beau, Scott, my Mom, Esther and her family, and Anna, and now Atra and her family. I see the people I run into at the stores where I shop, and am super friendly and caring with them. I spend a lot of time talking to strangers. I talk a lot on the phone. So, initially whenever anyone stops by, I feel a little surprised and invaded, and then afterwards, at least with Susan, I'm always glad they came by.
Susan and I have sooo much in common and I miss seeing her. She's so busy running her theater department at her college, traveling to perform her one woman show, organizing women's retreats, and visiting friends and family who live out of state, but I'm the one who's hard to pin down for a date. Silly shy me. We're going to go out next week for her birthday. I want to take her to The Ivy, because I haven't been in ages, but she doesn't want me to spend the money.
Susan was a hero this week. Yesterday she pulled her elderly neighbor Molly out of her burning house -- it burned to the ground from a grease fire in the kitchen : ( The smoke was so bad that she literally thought she was going to die when someone mercifully showed up and put a mask on her face. Then just as she got Molly clear of the smoke, the fire department arrived. She said that she's always heard that the smoke was the worst part of a fire, but since she'd never experienced it she didn't really understand until now. She was so grateful to the firefighters she invited them all over to dinner for pot roast, but they wanted to head home for spaghetti. I guess they eat a lot of spaghetti because it's easy to make : ) I know that's what we always take over to the local firehouse; pasta, sauce, bread, garlic spread, and salad, because I think they'd want something easy to cook that would make a big enough meal for everyone.
For anyone who's following this never ending cyber-story of mine, I did go horse back riding today, woot woot, and had a really good time! I'm proud of myself for getting out of myself, and doing something with my body for a change. (Actually I went virtual snowboarding last week so maybe I should be a little kinder to myself.) I went to the LA Equestrian Center in Burbank, (at least I think that's what it's called), because they have stables that let you rent and ride horses, and I thought I might be able to see my friend Jen's horse Prins. Sadly though, I wasn't able to reach my pal in time for her to okay a visit with the mysterious Prins who, despite the occasional photo posted on her journal, may or may not exist. I won't believe it until I can feed him a carrot, or ten, myself some day : )
The poor horses at the rental stables are some seriously down market equine folks, but that doesn't mean I'll love them any less, in fact it makes me like them more. It's more of a challenge to win someone over who's only just met you and sees you as just another one of a thousand people who will ride him or her and then go away. They have sway backs and grumpy worn out personalities. One of the horses I met today, Chocolate, was almost put down about a month ago because he couldn't pee, then one of the stable hands snuck him a beer, yes, a beer, and by the very next day he was up eating and walking around again. Poor old man.
These guys know all the tricks, all the You're not the boss of me horsey ploys, like how to stop and stamp their feet -- refusing to move until the poor hapless rider will give up and return to the stables early. There's the, I'm going to turn around and look at your legs like I might just bite them, trick, which does nothing to scare me, (actually it just makes me laugh and pat their necks), but I've seen this scare the hell out of less experienced riders. There's the Hey, don't you pull on my reigns or I'll just back up and buck you off, plan, and then there's my favorite, the ever popular, I can tell you don't know what you're doing, you're not gonna make me do much, I think I'll just turn around right now and walk, then trot, and then gallop wildly for home, who gives a shit about you, I'll probably never see you again anyway, you stupid rental rider, maneuver.
I met a handsome Cuban man on the trail today and we road together for a while. He looked pretty damned fabulous in his tight jodhpurs on this gorgeous painted horse. Actually I liked the horse more than him but it was fun riding and talking.
I am so excited about catching up on recorded television tonight. This DVR I recently got is such a blast! I have two Oprah's, two Oprah After the Show's, two Bachelor's, two Survivor's, one Trippin', one Punk'd, Nanny 911, today's Michael Jackson E channel trial reenactment, two Jeff Corwin's, and...that's about it, I think. God, I'll be able to keep myself buried deep in TV space-land for days.
I'm sorry but I just have to stop and take a minute here to say how weird it is to be watching Pat O'Brien on The Insider after having heard his crazy sex tapes played on the radio over and over again. I don't watch this show too often and just happened to stop on this channel when I saw that they were covering Oprah's ball so I stayed to watch. I didn't see the Dr.-Phil-Make-Nice-Post-Rehab special, and I certainly haven't seen him on this show in a long while, so it's weirdly disconcerting, knowing as much as I do about his sexual predilections, to be watching him now. I feel like I know more about him than I want to and I feel a little bit sorry for the guy because frankly who cares what he likes to do or say when it comes to sex?
It's the whole PR clean up crap that bothers me. Well known celebrity gets busted being himself, (or herself), conveniently needs to be whisked off for recovery in rehab, promptly returns contrite and full of 12 Step speak, (I'm a big fan of 12 Step Programs, don't get my wrong, I just don't like it when people adopt the lingo to sell something), and redeems himself by appearing on ratings driven interview shows, presto he's forgiven for something that's none of our business to begin with. I mean the dude was obviously having a good time, partying, doing his thing, drinking, snorting coke, and calling a hooker, (who was only about fifty feet away at the time), from his cell phone EIGHT times. It seems mighty convenient that when he wakes up the next day to learn that all of his macho horn dog talk has been heard all over the world, he suddenly realizes he's a bottomed out drunk?
Dr. Phil: I want to know what you say to yourself that makes it OK to be there with one woman, and on a cell phone talking to another woman, talking about, 'Let's get some hookers and some coke and go crazy.' What was going through your mind that said, 'This is OK. I'm going to do this not once, not twice, but seven or eight times'?
Pat: I kept doing the same thing over and over again expecting another outcome. That's the definition of insanity ... I was out of it, Phil.
Dr. Phil: When I first heard this, having known you, it comes to my mind: What the hell were you thinking?
Frankly, I think these tapes are hysterically funny, (although definitely creepy in an immature little boy sex kind of way), and I've annoyed them immensely. Why does he have to apologize to the entire known universe for whatever weird shit he does on his night's off? I mean if he really is a crass, woman-hating asshat who is getting a long overdue comeuppance, then more power to the universe, but I honestly can't stand seeing people excoriated for their private sexual behaviors. I don't like it, and at the same time I'm enjoying it, yeah, I'm weird like that. And I'm still not over being angry about what happened to Paul Rubens, (Pee-Wee Herman), so what if he went to a porn flick and jacked off, big deal.
Beau's birthday computer, (one of the world's most expensive gaming laptops, damnit, shit, damnit), finally arrived today and he was sooo excited he went flying down the stairs to meet the UPS man who he had been waiting for allll day. Then of course things didn't go as smoothly as he wanted when he went to install all of his many games and the anti-virus software balked at a few harmless files that he needed in order for his games to run properly. I told him to turn off the anti-virus program when he installs anything but he's stubborn and doesn't want to listen, argh, kids.
Beau actually got to go out with his oldest girl friend yesterday and I was so happy for him. I took him over to his old pal Juliet's house, (they called each other boyfriend and girlfriend from first grade all the way through seventh when they drifted apart and Beau began calling Sarah his girlfriend), and her Dad took them both to the movies and then brought him home. God bless us both if she reads this, but Juliet's step mother is such a bitch, (and you know me, I don't like the word bitch -- I think it's demeaning to women in some way -- and I really don't like to speak badly of people, but this gal needs a good smack), she was rude, selfish, and dismissive to me, then rude to Beau, and then rude again to Beau. If you have kids you know how it feels when someone hurts your kids' feelings, bad enough to make you want to call them a bitch I'll bet.
I don't why but the cats are acting super wild and rowdy tonight. They seem to be more upset and jittery than normal. Everyone is getting on each other's nerves and no one seems to be getting along. They're definitely driving me crazy. Everyone's fighting, hissing, jumping and dashing around. The few cats who are getting along are all here piling on me while I write and it's getting on my frayed nerves. Shhhh, don't tell them I said that, it's not allowed. I'm all about loving them 24/7.
Awwww Marlee Matlin is on the Late Late Show with Colin Ferguson. She's so charming and full of joy. I love watching her sign and hearing her speak. I just learned how to sign weird -- cool. I can finger spell -- sign the alphabet -- and I know a few words, but I'd love to be able to do more.
I had dinner at Atra's tonight. I took over some things I'd bought at this estate sale on Saturday to show them. I was thrilled to find these white cotton Edwardian or Victorian floor length gowns and slips for a song, a whole basket of buttons for only ten dollars, yeehaw, and a few other things. I found a little porcelain cup for Atra that she went mad for, and I bought some MAC pigment powders on eBay for the girls.
On my way over there I got to visit with my neighbor Caryn and her dog Niki, another neighbor who I haven't seen in ages and his cute little son, and I waved hello and said a few words to Sister Margret, my old high school teacher who lives down the street from me. All in all just a really great day, where I got enough done to feel good about myself, and a day that was filled with terrific people.