You Are Living in the Monkey House

I am enjoying Project Runway. I am so torn as to who should win though. 

I know I want Curly-Haired Girl to win because she makes the best clothes (and I really like her hair). 

I know I want Fierce Boy to win, because I like how fierce he is (and I secretly want him to be my best friend). 

I know I want Bald Foreign Guy to win, because his mom died and I feel bad for him (and it's crazy how much he looks like his mom, put a wig on him and they're the same person). 

I know I want Fat Guy to win because he's the dark horse and came back from being aut-ed (plus his clothes are bound to be different from everyone else's, just because they are something I might find in my attic). 

I guess I'll just have to sit on the edge of my seat until next week. 

The Three-Thousand Dollar Tree

Here, now for all to read. The reason for the title of my painting: 

My friend Frank and I went out painting one sunny day last February. We do this at least once a week (or used to) when it's not cold or rainy. During that particular trip, about midway through our paintings, we heard a funny noise. It sounded like someone kicking a basketball. We didn't really think anything of it, which was a big mistake. 

When we got back to the car we found it like this. (Frank's car, not mine. Sorry Frank.) What the picture doesn't show is the giant rock in the passenger seat. At first, just a big fat bummer, until, while on the phone to his insurance company, Frank asks the question: "Did you have anything in the front seat?" 

Why yes, yes I did. 

My purse. 

I live in LA. I should know better than to leave my purse in plain sight on the floor of an unattended car. That's just dumb. But I had so much to carry, with my paint box, my easel, and bag of various mediums and stuff... well, it's just plain laziness really. 

So the purse was gone. Which wouldn't have been too horrible, had I not been carrying around a kazillion gift certificates from Christmas and my birthday that for whatever reason I hadn't spent yet. And my keys. It is very annoying, and very costly, to get locks rekeyed. Let's just say I had a lot of keys to a lot of places that I had to pay a lot for them to get rekeyed. And since I was kind of responsible for the whole thing in the first place (okay, not my fault, but it wouldn't have happened had I not left the stupid purse) I kicked in for half of Frank's window too. 

So that's the story. The long, fun story. 

So the tree better sell for a lot of money to be worth the work involved in making it. 

First Post... Better Make It Good

Last night I finished watching the seventh season of Buffy. Again. (Yes, I own the whole thing on DVD and am not ashamed of the fact.) I have decided that it was a show finale that rivals that of Newhart. And I am certain that someday I too will wake up with slayer powers. It's just a matter of time, right? Right?

I am not going to attempt a synopsis of Buffy the Vampire Slayer in a effort to get you all to understand how good it is. I could never do it justice. And I am not as good at synopsii (Yes, I make up new pluralizations for words, get used to it.) as this three-year-old. 

I am going to share a short story about me and vampires... 

I was seventeen, Elly - my cousin - was fifteen, and she was spending the night at my house. It was late, for her, and we had turned out the lights and were attempting to sleep. I was by no means tired though and I lied there, eyes wide and staring at the ceiling. She was gone already, sleeping soundly next to me with a pillow on her neck. 

Yes, a pillow on her neck. 

Anyhow, she woke up with a scream. Not a little "Ah!", but a nice, full-bodied scream, straight from some horror film. Needless to say (though I'm saying it anyway), I was a little startled by it. 

"Gah! Elly! Why did you scream like that?" 

"Oh, I don't know. I must have been dreaming..." 

I decided to take up the topic of her bizarre neckwear. "Why do you have a pillow on your neck?" 

She resettled the pillow into an even more neck-covering position. "Um, I don't know. I just like it there. It's comfortable..." She turned away from me, a strange look on her face. 

"Okay..." 

Let's now switch to Elly's side of the story to fully appreciate what really went on: 

Elly woke up from a dream in which I was a vampire and I had been trying to bite her. She screamed. 

"Gah! Elly! Why did you scream like that?" 

Laura is sure awake for such a late time. Why is she so awake? "Oh, I don't know. I must have been dreaming..."

"Why do you have a pillow on your neck?" 

Why is Laura so interested in my neck? Maybe it wasn't a dream after all... "Um, I don' t know. I just like it there. It's comfortable..." 

"Okay..." 

Her conclusion: Laura is a vampire. 

I have yet to debate that. ;)