04.30.08
Saw this over at Feministing:
part of a nutritious breakfast
I’m not really sure how it happened, but at some point in the last few years I became a hermit.
Slowly, I’m coming back out of this self-imposed shell, reconnecting with the world. I want to go out more and do more fun stuff- go to art museums, dance, go out to dinner with large groups, host/attend game nights, take some classes (bellydance!) etc. I want to meet new people and spend more time with the people I do know.
If you’re in Pittsburgh and you’d like to see more of my smiling face, let’s get together and have coffee or dinner or go bowling or whatever!
- refocusing on what is important to me
- being happy, singing in the car, by myself
- sunshine on spring flowers
- fun dresses
- meeting Keepon last night at DorkBot (Jon posted a video of the little guy - I think it’s pretty awesome that they’re using him to research children with autism)
I’m working on finding a theme that is more friendly, so please be patient as I tweak things- I hope to have my toast girls back up soon.
I couldn’t have expressed my disgust any better, inkyblue2.
I don’t think human beings can handle/actually want true freedom- they just want a get out of jail free card when they need one. (EDIT: <—this statement is about those people who would identify as pro-choice and yet make comments like “she’s abusing her constitutional right” and the like)
Link to original article here.
As it stands right now, I hate nothing more than painting.
We are still not done with the ritual room. I need to go and get another quart of the purple, it refuses to cover evenly. We are up to seven colors now- three on the walls, two colors for the trim (base and a dry brushed color), a color for the ceiling and a color for the closet door. This room has taken over our lives.
Tomorrow, we’re going to put a second coat on the closet door, do a third coat on the purple and touch up the trim and then I’m done and I may never pick up a paint brush again.
A little bit of Feministing’s Friday Feminist Fun (and yes, I know it’s Saturday):
She keeps her own name, motherfuckers!!!
I’m very excited- tomorrow we begin painting my ritual space, aka the extra bedroom. It will no longer be a sickly neon-mint green (I can think of no better way to describe its color) but will be a fabulous Moroccan-style room. The colors I’ve picked are Posh Red, Shaded Lake and Poetic Purple, all by Valspar. We’re probably going to need to change the trim color to something other than white, but we haven’t decided yet.
I love paint experiments!!!
I was “tagged” by Eleanor’s Trousers…well, not really, because she didn’t tag anyone, but you get the point.
Legend has it that Hemingway was once challenged to write a story in only six words. His response? “For sale: baby shoes, never worn.” Last year, SMITH Magazine re-ignited the recountre by asking readers for their own six-word memoirs. They sent in short life stories in droves, from the bittersweet (”Cursed with cancer, blessed with friends”) and poignant (”I still make coffee for two”) to the inspirational (”Business school? Bah! Pop music? Hurrah”) and hilarious (”I like big butts, can’t lie”).
Here are the rules:
1) Write your own six word memoir.
2) Post it on your blog and include a visual illustration if you’d like.
3) Link to the person that tagged you in your post, and to the original post if possible so we can track it as it travels across the blogosphere.
4) Tag at least five more blogs with links.
5) Don’t forget to leave a comment on the tagged blogs with an invitation to play.
6) Have fun.
My six word memoir? “Hell yeah!” she said. “I’m in!”
I’m not tagging anyone….just participate if you feel like it!
Wow, thanks for your take on that, Nick! I’m glad to know your opinions on rape…and I now know why Jon says sunlight is the best antiseptic.