Through The Looking Glass

If I were given the superhero ability to travel backwards in time and talk myself out of doing things I’d later regret, I’m not sure there are many things I’d deem important enough to bother with. Nearly all of my bad decisions turned out OK in the end, and what if I (that is, my past self) accidentally killed myself (my future, I mean present, self)? It’s too awful to contemplate.

However. I’d make one exception.

I would absolutely, positively, no question about it go back about an hour so I could tell myself that I was not, under any circumstances, to even consider rinsing Sam’s disgusting poopy diaper while he was in the bathroom with me, as he loves to pull up on the toilet and would certainly take this opportunity to try to stick his hands into the dirty bowl water and then, when I got him away somehow, would pee on the floor and then crawl in it.

Following are three photos my sister sent me so I could show y’all my hair without turning on my old computer.

(click for bigger)

Next up is a photo of me the summer I turned 22. You must excuse the half-dead look. Will had left me a few months earlier and I was not well. By which I mean vodka was my friend. As you can see, my hair is not past my butt, and now that I think about it I don’t think it actually got quite long enough to sit on (even as fast as my hair grows, I cut it off the following April) but I am going to leave the original statement be, because I like to think that it did. (Also: who the hell cut my bangs? They look AWFUL. Which means, of course, that I cut them. Sigh.)

Will: Let’s not have him rip his throat out, we’ve already done that.
me: He has a hole in his chest, right? Let’s have him pull out his lungs!
Will: Ewwwwwww!
me: Anyone can do the heart. We’ll do lungs.

Our horror movie rewrite outline/treatment is ready. The finishing touches have been added in. It is totally disgusting.

A reminder: if you would like to buy a t-shirt, please use the link from here OR type in zazzle.com/noirbettie* (the asterisk gets me an extra 7% referral fee). Thanks!

One of the strangest things I’ve found in making all new friends over the past year or so is that the things everyone knows about me are no longer universal. While I am still friends with many wonderful people I’ve known for years, most of the people I befriended when I moved to LA five years ago are gone from my life and I am slowly making new friends. Those folks just don’t know all the things about me that I am unaccustomed to everyone knowing.

On top of that, this blog, which was read by literally no one when I started it four and a half years ago, is now read by total strangers. I have made friends through my blog, people. Crazy.

So here are 15 more things about me. I hope you learn something interesting.

25. I am a terrific cook. I can cook anything.
26. No, really. Baking too.
27. But I kill all my plants, even the succulents.
28. I like rockabilly music.
29. Ska too.
30. I’m very into 40s/50s retro everything, but hold a real fondness for 20s architecture.
31. I used to go swing dancing. A lot.
32. My favorite dance is the Texas Two-Step.
33. My hair has been so long I could sit on it twice in my life. I cut it (above my shoulders) when I was ten and again at 22. The second time I donated 17 inches to Lock of Love.
34. I’ve also shaved my head twice. Never to the skin.
35. I’ve dyed my hair every color except blue. I’d still like to have dark blue hair.
36. I have two tattoos. I’d like more.
37. I had my nose pierced when I was 16 and kept it till I was 20.
38. I had my belly button pierced when I was 18. It never healed properly. I kept it for seven and a half years. It got infected every year.
39. I would totally pierce my nose again.

I occasionally go through my Akismet spam filter in order to catch the real comments it thinks are spam. (It does seem to have finally learned that CosmicAvatar is a real person.) Mostly it’s easy to ID the spam as such, as it is chock-full of links and/or all written in bold. There is a recent trend (that I’ve mentioned before) of comments that appear to be complementary and often are targeted at the post content.

This one is pretty easy to identify:

JohnPearson | johnpearsons58@yahoo.com | johnpearsons.com | IP: 71.110.6.230

Nice Post.

That was well said. Always appreciate your indepth views. Keep up the great work!

John

It was iffy at first, but he took a fatal step in complementing my “indepth views,” as I don’t have any. Next!

This one is obviously spam because it makes very little sense, but it did give me pause.

Marina | marina@gmail.com | jyyj.com/2007/01/28/optimizing-your-depression-medicines-celexa | IP: 72.36.199.114

Every creature needs to rest. Giraffes, little babies, elephants, dogs, cats, kids, koala bears, grandparents, moms, dads, and hippos in the jungle – they all sleep! Just like eating, sleep is necessary for survival. WBR LeoP

First of all, I’ve known more than one person named Marina. Second, I talk about sleep all the freakin’ time. Third, giraffes! Elephants! Babies! Koalas!

This last one was just plain mean.

Florian | asdfk@web.de | bhotels.info | IP: 84.155.243.126

Hi,
I found your blog via google by accident and have to admit that youve a really interesting blog :-)
Just saved your feed in my reader, have a nice day :)

People get here via Google all the time! None of them ever tell me I’m interesting. Jerks.

Well, Groundhog Day, anyway. I wanted to have these ready in time for Christmas, but it just didn’t happen. Oh well!

Presenting my very own t-shirts! And also coffee mugs. (Did I mention that I gave up coffee? I MISS IT SO MUCH. BUY A COFFEE MUG.)

Clicking on the image takes you to my Zazzle Shop. The products are listed the way I like them (t-shirt style, color, etc.) but you can customize them to your heart’s content.

A couple of years ago I was sending a PM (private message) to P@ at the Buffyguide forums. I meant to type “wonky” but the fingers on my right hand were, um, wonky on the keypad and I inadvertently typed “womlu.” The word spread across the internet and may even appear in a book at some point in the future. (Seriously. I was interviewed.) I am making it available in t-shirt and coffee mug form because I think it is awesome and I want to see it everywhere.

Edit: womlu can mean anything you want it to mean. It is womlu! I use it in place of “wonky.”

I understand that Zazzle’s products are high quality, but I haven’t ordered anything myself yet. Please report back to me if you buy anything. And send pictures! I’ll start a gallery.

I make 10% of every sale. If you follow the link from here, I get an additional 7% referral on your purchase. I want to be absolutely upfront about this, because I know some people have a problem with other people making money off their blogs. I think that’s nonsense, but whatever. I have fully disclosed everything, you can make your own choice about buying. (I wish I were going to use the money for something fantastic like vacation or yarn or new clothes or something, but anything I make will most likely go toward bills. There, now I’ve disclosed everything.)

Last Saturday we went to our friend Shelby’s house for his birthday party. The festivities began mid-afternoon, which made it possible for both of us to go because we could bring Sam. Since it was an all night kind of party, only a few other people arrived as early as we did. One of them, a girl whose name I can’t remember, got herself a drink and then hesitated as she approached the sofa where I sat with Sam. She asked me if it was all right to sit by the baby with alcohol. “Well,” I said, “are you planning to give him any?” It was funny, and she turned out to be great, but inexperienced, with babies. This other guy, though. Yeesh.

“Oh,” he started in. “You guys must be from Silverlake.” Silverlake is a hip and really lovely part of town. We do not live there and I said as much.

“Well, you know,” he said. “Everyone in Silverlake says ‘what do you mean, I can’t be drunk around my baby?’ So I figure you must be from Silverlake.”

I coldly told him that I was drinking cranberry juice, and that it was perfectly all right for us to drink around Sam but that it was certainly not all right to be drunk around him, as there is a safety issue.

He did not get it. Did. Not. Get. It. He was one of those people who lives in this weird bubble and thinks that they “get” other people, when in fact the “funny” things they say just alienate everyone in the immediate vicinity. Also, he does something-or-other in the music business and takes great pains to make sure you know that he! is! in! music!

Made me crazy.

It turns out that the issue of drinking around your kids is a real hot topic. It seems that someone let that talentless cow Meredith Viera on the Today show, and she attacked some mom who has cocktail playdates, comparing her to a babysitter (yeah, ’cause there is no difference between a parent and someone who is paid to watch a child — OH WAIT, except that parents don’t get paid and never go off duty) and generally attacking her character. (The mom in question, by the way, was wearing one of these necklaces, which are so much like the necklaces Joni and I used to make, and I have to make one right now! As soon as I find my beads and some wire! Also, you should go read her blog, which is awesome and I can’t believe I didn’t find it sooner.)

I don’t really have a point, except that it is so funny how life imitates the internet, and I hate people (especially Meredith Viera), and also: would anyone like to come over for a cocktail playdate? We have some vodka and some rum, or you could bring a bottle of something.

Click on photo to go to the Flickr page, with notes on the artwork.

Proving that I should never be allowed to do math, or estimate by eye, or in fact knit at all, I have nearly completed the mini Clapotis that I estimated could be knitted with two balls of yarn with just one ball. Nearly completed. I am out of yarn and have a bit to go. So the question is: do I start the second ball and finish the scarf, or do I rip the whole thing out and make it bigger, using both balls?

Sam woke up at 6:30 this morning. 6:45. Something like that. By itself, this isn’t so bad. Add to it the fact that he’d been up at five of two and again at twenty past and then who knows how many other times because I stopped looking at the clock, and it sucks. So I’ve been up with him and we’ve been playing. It’s nice to spend time together, and I’m so glad Will slept in.

While Sam was playing on the floor, I decided to pay some waaaaaaaay overdue bills and logged onto our online banking. Where I discovered that we’d been charged for our gym memberships. Which I canceled on Wednesday, effective immediately according to the woman I spoke to. So I call the billing department and speak to the biggest CUNT working for 24 Hour Fitness. She tells me there’s a 30 day cancellation policy, I ask why I wasn’t told this when I canceled, she reiterates, I tell her I can’t even pay my rent and ask her to refund the charges, she gets huffy, I tell her if I can’t have the $40 back my kid won’t eat (which is sort of true, since I will have trouble eating), and she starts reading me the contract. I cursed her family in Italian* and hung up on her. Other than going to the gym every single day between now and March 24th (when the cancellation is actually effective) I have no ideas, nor am I clear whether we’ll be charged again at the end of February.

Then we went for a walk with our brand new totally awesome Ergo. I carried Sam on my belly because I can’t get him on and off my back alone yet. I love this carrier. While it is not easy on my hips, it is ten gazillion times better than the Bjorn and I wish we’d gotten it in the first place.

We walked to the bank, where I tried to deposit my paycheck. The ATM totally denied me, so I went inside. Where I was told that my card was reported lost or stolen. Really? The card I have in my hand right now? But she couldn’t tell me who reported it or what reason was given. OY FUCKING VEY. I hate Washington Mutual so much. So I made the deposit and got quarters for laundry and we went to the grocery store. I had $8 on me and wanted more groceries than that, so I tried to use my debit card. Yeah, the one that was reported lost or stolen. I’m a slow learner. Plus, I GAVE UP COFFEE. So I had to use some of my laundry money and it was humiliating.

Then we went home and Will made breakfast while I put sleepy Sam down for a nap. He went to sleep beautifully and was looking something like an angel when, as I was sneaking out of the room, some motherfucker right outside our window started honking his horn. Sam woke up and wouldn’t go back to sleep.

Please send pie. Or doughnuts, doughnuts would be good.

*New York Italian**.
**Oh, fine, I said “fuck you.”