Why I Love My Life

I love the fact that I sleep next to someone who also wakes up at 5am and immediately dives into a conversation about how best to preserve wet cat food - pickling or smoking; how awesome it would be to extrude cookie dough from the playdough barbershop man's hair and then deep fry it; and especially how our only holiday card we send out this year should be a Happy Presidents' Day edition featuring of one of our cats dressed as Abraham Lincoln, another dressed as George Washington, and the kitten dressed as a congressional page.

It's the End of My Job as I know It

Today is my last day as a full-time employee at my current fundraising job. After this I'll be working for them as a consultant to finish a few projects, but for the most part my time here has come to an end (and oh man do I want to make a Lord of the Rings reference there - "The time of Elves has come to an end..."). It's a mixed bag of emotions, as closing any chapter is, but it's amazing to me how clear I am that this is absolutely the correct decision. I am the ultimate second guesser - the seer of every side of a coin, a reveler in all shades of grey, and yet I sit here, a bit reminiscent and with regret at the direction I see this organization heading, but with no doubt - not a single one - that I am making the right choice.

HOORAY!!!

Tales from a Bedside Notebook

As an insomniac, I took to keeping a notebook by my bed years ago to help get out the anxiety filled loops that keep me up. I've slowly distilled what I write down to a few pithy sentences and since everything else that's consumed me lately has gone into my business' blog arena, I thought I'd share.

As seen in my notebook

1) I am a high functioning weirdo. I am at my most comfortable when around politicos, artists, cooks, homos, people who live/have lived in a bus, musicians, and most other fringe populations.

2) Why must my cats always pry open the bathroom door when I'm in there? I've always gone in for a strictly utilitarian purpose and they never look very pleased with what they found when they get in. Perhaps they dream solely of catnip behind closed doors.

3) Sleep - the final frontier. 5 am anxiety fueled freak out conquered for the moment. Light headedness in check. Nausea - quelled. Racing panicky thought, successfully shoved into the background. Success!

Hopefully the next round will be more interesting.

New Adventures

Well, it's going to be official soon. I've already given my boss notice that I'm looking for a new position and thanks to a very supportive significant other, I'm free to cement tomorrow that I'll be job-free as of August 28th. I'm really hoping to be rid of all the heartburn, nausea, nightmares and skin conditions that my current position has caused. FYI, stress sucks. The good news is that it turns out I'm pretty good at marketing and fundraising for nonprofits and artists, so I have a few projects on the horizons. I'd really, really like to not work a stifling 9-5 job for a few more months, so hopefully these consulting gigs will carry me through.

The Best Part of Waking Up

The only thing more wrong than drinking day-old cold coffee is drinking it out of a pint glass at 7am.

Stretched Skin

Sometimes I feel like I've lived so many lives in my 30 year old skin that it is stretched beyond its years. Augustin Burroughs once said that when people met him they expected him to be funny, but what he really was was tired and wrinkled, like he'd shoved 17 lives into his skin and now it was stretched and saggy. I can relate. My cat, my dear clumsy squeaky cat Oscar is in the kitty hospital tonight thanks to bladder stones and the whole ordeal made me realize that on any day of the week I'm so jaded I don't let misery and emergency come within a 30 ft range of me. I'm the master of blocking out Bad. For those of you that can master this avoidance technique, I highly recommend it. It doesn't do much for your relationships, but it's one hell of a coping mechanism. Eventually you learn to only let in what you feel like dealing with. Incredible, no? I'm completely in awe of my brain's coping mechanism. Yeay brain!

The Go-Go's Had it Right

Thanks, Belinda Carlisle, for so aptly putting my feelings into song: Vacation, all I ever wanted, Vacation, had to get away.

As I sit here at my 1940's painted desk that I rescued from the side of the road last year in bad shape and refinished, I think of what a lovely week off I've had. Josh and I refinished our hallway, had a housewarming party, bummed around, rifled through junk stores and just generally enjoyed each other's company. I've had a chance to feel human again - no stress, no worries, no obligations. Just me, my boyfriend, two cats, two turtles, guppies, a happy house, and the world to explore. And now, with champagne and local strawberries in hand (thanks to all of you who brought champagne to the party, by the way!), I intend to spend the last day of my break in high fashion: sewing skirts, drinking, and watching B sci-fi movies.

It is an interesting conundrum that has hit me square in the face this week. I love my job. I love writing for a living and working to help kids from crappy homes have better lives. It's satisfying and fulfilling. But I'm exhausted. I'm under so much stress that I've had heart burn for the last month and a half for the first time in my life and can't sleep thanks to all the nasty nightmares I have. I'm too tired when I get home to do anything fun and I'm constantly anxiety ridden. This job has hijacked my identity. I'm no longer the collection of quirky and colorful things that make me who I've been in the past, I'm now the sum total of my career. In short, I'm reaching my breaking point.

So what to do? I don't know really. Quitting seems like a dream come true, but I'd really like to pay off my mortgage in the next 7 years so Josh and I can take the long road view of our future. With no mortgage, neither one of us will be beholden to jobs that make us crazy. But to get there I have to make as much money as possible, so I can't quit. Plus there's the responsibility to my agency not to leave them in a lurch in a bad economy, threatening their ability to complete grant cycles and get continuation funding. Guilt is a powerful motivator.

I'm stuck. In the grand scheme this is not a big problem. Lots of people would LOVE to have this problem right now. I know how extremely fortunate I am to have the life I lead with great family, friends, and the love of my life. I'd just like to have my sanity and identity back. I don't want to be "the grantwriter" any more. At least not with 60+ hour work weeks, the constant after hours phone calls and emails, and the small paycheck. I'd really like to go back to being me. So if anyone would like to hire a freelance writer, furniture refinisher, tailor, floral designer, fine crafts person, potter, screen printer, carpenter, tile layer, beer brewer, coffee roaster, insert-title-here, drop me a line.

Poverty Breeds Creativity

Please excuse any typos in this post - one of my cats has decided that the spot between the monitor and the keyboard is kitty nirvana and has firmly ensconced his ample flesh in that space, which occasionally spills onto the keyboard.

But to the point - in my lovely new flat that I adore, all colorful and patchwork, I have craigslisted and refinished a fair bit of furnishings due to the poverty that purchasing this flat has created. This last week found me craigslisting and refinishing a small dresser to hold all my linens, which until this moment have been housed on a chair in the bedroom.

The nicest couple I've met in quite a while had painted this dresser to go in their 3 month old daughter's room, but they were moving and it no longer fit. So for $35 I (and Josh's yellow hatchback) took it off their hands:


While I enjoy the color scheme they chose, it doesn't quite work with our red bedroom. So I painted it white and finished the faux bamboo trim in black:



Then thanks to a couple sheets of Snow & Graham wrapping paper and a big jar of mod podge, I added the red poppies to the party:



After a thorough drying, the dresser is now happily living in our bedroom, protecting our linens from an onslaught of cat fir...



Thank you, poverty, for inspiring a new fondness for reuse.

Good Ol' Vermonters Make Craigslist Fun

This was posted on craigslist's household section this morning and it is just so typical of Vermont, I had to share:

Vintage items on Porch, Summer long (Rutland, Nichols and W. St)

"I have been collecting, buying, and selling vintage items for years and years. I have glassware, pottery, porcelain, linens and more. I have some gorgeous items out and will be continuing to put more out all summer. I’m there, well just kinda when I down there, no set hours, but making Sunday a regular day. It’s hard to find other places open then or that have anything worth looking at by then at regular yard sales. Stop by and look whenever you want, if I’m not there, feel free to come to the back wooden steps and see if I’m home, or leave me a note downstairs when you want to come back and I’ll be there."

Welcome to how the Vermont economy functions for the most part. Throughout the growing season you can also find un-staffed roadside farmer stands with a box, usually sitting on a stump, where you leave your payment. The honor system lives!

A Tale of Two Chairs

Since renovating a condo has significantly sapped my disposable income, I have taken to renovating what I already own to suit my new surroundings. Today's tale? Chairs!

I purchased two of these very standard brown school chairs from a woman in Winooski who'd used them at her kitchen table for her kids when they were young. 30 years later she finally decided to get rid of them. So I bought them last year to use at my kitchen table, which I did. However, I now have a different kitchen table that fits in a tiny corner of my kitchen, and that table is black and white. So...


A primer coat - many times I have skipped this step and many times I have regretted it.


Then a couple coats of gloss black:




Then I covered the seats with Snow & Graham wrapping paper:



Yay kitchen chairs!

And in that vein, the chair that went with my old kitchen table (which happens to be my grandfather's gorgeous dining table) had seen better days. But since it too was my grandfather's and is around 100 years old, I really wanted to give it a new life.


The cane seat was ripped in a couple of places so I removed it:


As I mentioned before, primer is a must:


Then several coats of white gloss and a kitchen towel for the new seat:



And viola! I love it. Though I kind of wish I'd painted it blue, Josh has assured me that it works. So with little money spent other than the cost of a couple of cans of paint, I've reclaimed seating for three!

Sorry Norway, It's Not a Game Until Someone Puts an Eye Out

In my meanderings from design blog to design blog I happened upon a Norwegian blog called Hei-Astrid. Without reading much of the text, I came across this:


It came with the cryptically awesome descriptor of "We played more games of kubb...". While I could very well wikipedia "Kubb" and have most of my questions answered, I prefer to leave this in its bizarre natural state: 5 Norwegian men, 1 dog, and 14 blocks of wood.

It Says What it Does - Thanks UK!

While perusing The Dieline, a blog dedicated to the coolest darn packaging around, I came across the winners of the 2009 EDAwards (European Design Awards) and I couldn't resist sharing this delight from Studio Blackburn for Traidcraft tissues:

Thank god someone has a sense of humor about fair trade products. Want to purchase these beauties? Get out your currency calculators, folks. Unfortunately they're a UK creation.

Fun With Pirates

For all my friends who celebrate "Talk Like a Pirate Day", I invite you to:

Pirate Festival

(From Seven Days) We probably have Captain Jack Sparrow to thank for the buccaneer culture that has inched its way into daily life in recent years. There’s the annual “International Talk Like a Pirate Day.” There’s the “English (Pirate)” option on Facebook. There’s the whole Internet piracy thing ... But there’s no better way to pay homage to the treasure-trovin’ swashbucklers of yore than to throw them a festival, as the Lake Champlain Maritime Museum is doing this weekend. Kids don breeches and feathered hats to become gentlemen — and women — o’ fortune as they learn more about the age of discovery and exploration. Crafts, sing-alongs and pirate-themed activities complement live performers, such as stilt-walking pirate juggler Stephen Grotto. And, in light of recent real piracy on the high seas, older kids learn about “The Good, the Bad & the Ugly: Pirate Realities and Fantasies.” Sail ho!

Saturday & Sunday, June 6 & 7, Lake Champlain Maritime Museum, Vergennes, 10 a.m. - 5 p.m. $6-10.

I love this state!

The Bluebird Express Rides Again

Thank you to everyone who has wished Josh and I well on our recent home purchase. Luckily we're moved in and have completed most of the construction that coats the house in at least an inch of dust, which I'm apparently allergic to. So in lieu of boring construction pictures, I thought I'd offer up a "best of" post and give you the low down on the transformation of by bike "The Bluebird Express" that Josh and I rehabbed last year and have now brought out of storage.

I bought a 1978 Tyler one speed bike out of Poland for a grand total of $40 from an AmeriCorps member who lived down the street from me:



The bell is what sold me. For weeks Josh had kept murmuring "bring bring!!!" whenever he tried to convince me to buy a bike. Eventually he won.



So a few weeks after I bought it, Josh took it apart while I was away and we stripped most of the finish with sandpaper when I returned:


Then I sprayed it with two coats of a flat gray auto primer:



Then it got three coats of silver:



At some point I realized this was not a good thing to do barefoot. Turns out my feet became an structural part of the porch on N. Winooski Ave:



Then, the color! Baby blue turns out to not just be an awesome color, but also a great spray paint to find in several local paint stores that typically run out of the paint I'm using mid-project. But they were so flush with baby blue I still have extra:



With ten coats of poly and a couple of stickers from Michael's, "the Bluebird Express" was born:



And then we realized we had to put the bike back together:



I even made my bike its own metal face plate:



Viola, the finished product!!!



Not only is my bike awesome, it's super fun to ride around town and it can hold all of my groceries from the farmer's market. Yeay bluebird express! Bring Bring!

At Last My Condo Has Come Along

It's finished! We have prevailed! Despite angry sellers, bad appraisals and a nasty housing market, Josh and I have successfully purchased our little condo. It's been a complex and winding road to get here, but today at 2pm we made it official. We now have our own corner of the world. It's a diamond in the rough right now, but with some work it's going to be gorgeous. And I plan on taking over the condo association so I can fix all the landscaping issues I don't like with the other 2 units. Yeah, I'm going to be that association president. As long as property value is at stake, the other residents will thank me. And fear me. Just kidding. Mostly...

Wild World of Funeral Webcasts

Now I can end up some pretty odd places online on a Sunday afternoon when it's snowing outside (yes, that's right, it's snowing on Easter Sunday in Vermont), but this is one of my odder finds. I give you FuneralOne:

http://www.funeralone.com/

In concept, the recording and web-casting of funerals so that loved ones who couldn't make the trip can feel a part of the process is honorable. That's not the part that weirded me out. Well, at first it was, but then I read an article about a family who had taken part in the process and it sounded downright cathartic. The part that truly gives me the jibblies is the company's website. It looks like it came straight out of a Mac commercial. And the copy? Here's the intro paragraph:

"funeralOne is a personalization, technology, and consulting company for the funeral care profession. funeralOne's core services include strategic funeral home web site design, personal funeral service consulting, and funeral tribute video software. Committed to delivering innovation, funeralOne collaborates with its clients to help them reach their full market potential. With deep industry expertise, broad resources and a proven track record, funeralOne can mobilize the right people, skills, and technologies to help clients reach their customers in new ways"

Delivering innovation? Reach their clients in new ways? How many ways can you reach them? It's a funeral for crying out loud! Thank you, FuneralOne. Thank you for understanding that I just can't be satisfied honoring my deceased loved ones unless I feel that death's middle men have a firm grasp of the information highway. It's great to know that society's pariahs truly understand the magic of synergy.

The Sky Hasn't Fallen

Congratulations to Vermont for being the first state to legalize same sex marriage through legislation and not a court order! A major boo and hiss to our governor for vetoing the bill, and a hearty thank you to the house and senate for overriding his idiocy. To all my gay and lesbian friends, I'm so thrilled for you all!

Excess Helps No One

I've come to an awful conclusion. In the last few years I've eaten too much, drank too much, gone out too much, spent too much and said too much. And now I'm tired. I'm overweight, I'm broke and I'm tired. It's time to reform. And to keep my mouth shut.

I've had three addresses in two years (Updated)

This just in - buying a condo sucks.

So for the last month cerebral drool reader Josh and I have been going through the steps of buying a condo in Burlington. Everything was going smoothly until the appraiser found that the value was $14,000 less than the agreed upon price. So the seller and I examined the appraisal and found some major flaws and I contacted all parties to try to get them rectified. I just found via a voice mail on my home number from the bank that essentially said the errors weren't enough to change the estimate. I disagree. Do I

1) walk from the deal and have no where to live after June 1
2) Ignore the bank and pay full price
3) Negotiate with the seller even though both of us know we're getting screwed

Inquiring minds want to know!!! I'll update as information becomes available.

Update - So I've counter-offered and am waiting to hear back. I've been a wreck. I hate situations where I'm not in control and the waiting game kills me. But three hours ago I found out that the house across the street from the condo is for sale and would only be $200 more a month, so if the seller rejects my extremely generous offer, he can suck it. I'm going elsewhere. And I'll have the fun of watching him try to find someone else as understanding an accommodating as we've been when it again appraises for $15k below his asking price. Which he won't. Which will mean I'll get to laugh at him for months.

Revenge is a dish best served cold. And from across the street.

Vermonters can now "Come Hungry and Leave Happy" tm

It's official: Vermont has an IHOP. Big whoop, you say? Perhaps you were unaware the Vermont was the last state in the union to host the 'House. From WCAX's morning newscast:

"A recession may not be the best time to open a new restaurant...

But the owners are betting that i-Hop at the University Mall will be a winner. The owners spent the weekend training new servers and staff for the grand opening on Tuesday. These customers were specially invited to check it out. At a time when jobs are hard to come by, the new i-Hop has hired over a hundred employees.

Proprietor Sam Handy told Channel 3, "We can bring people in, bring a new business to the area, you know, hire 110 people which gets a lot of people off their feet from some tough times, you know, from being laid off. We can get them going again. It's a little nerve wracking with the economy, but I think it's going to work out really well."

Vermont is the last of the fifty states to get an i-Hop. Although it's a national franchise, the restaurant at University Mall is owned locally -- by the Handy family."

I remember distinctly the shock that set in when I first moved to Vermont from Massachusetts in 2000. I couldn't purchase my normal brands of toothpaste, bread, orange juice or moisturizer, and I lived in the only metropolitan area in the state. I found out that according to the 1990 census there were more cows than people in the state. I now lived closer to Montreal than Boston. The state was in the middle of the nasty "Take Back Vermont" campaign where all the yahoos came out of the woodwork to protest Civil Unions and angry jackasses from the "kingdom" (that's the Northeast Kingdom to those of you unfamiliar with the term for the highly poverty stricken and rural northeast corner of VT) were on the news constantly spewing some of the most vitriolic and hateful language I've ever heard on TV. I had to pull over and throw up when I drove down a road with dead deer strung up in people's front yards to bleed dry before butchering. I learned that half of the state hadn't been on an electrical grid until the late 60's when the first highway went up, and that many of the major roads used to cross from east to west close for the winter since they go through the green mountains. There's even an extra season, "mud season" that happens when the rest of the country has Spring. In short, I looked around at my new surroundings and thought I had made a terrible, terrible mistake.

But it's grown on me over the last 9 years. I still miss Massachusetts and always will, but this is now home. We have no Target, no Ikea, no Ann Taylor, no Nordstroms, no DSW, to only mention a few chain stores I miss, but we do have the distinction of being the only state to not have a MacDonalds in our capitol (nor do we have one in Burlington, thank goodness). All in all, it's a mixed bag. No one accidentally lives in Vermont. You may grow up here, come for college, or move here at some point without much thought, but you only stay because you want to. It is not an easy place to live.

But of course now that we have an IHOP, that may change.

In Celebration of Common Sense

I'd like to thank the VT state senate for doing the right thing and voting to approve same sex marriages! From the Burlington Free Press:

"The Senate Judiciary Committee voted unanimously this morning to recommend a same-sex marriage bill to the full Senate."

Congratulations to the great people in office who decided to celebrate the first day of Spring by voting to extend the right to marry and to all the same sex couples out there who are one step closer to ditching "separate but equal"!!!

Creating the tropics inside to give the finger to the outside

It's March in Vermont, which automatically means it's a combination of muddy, snowy, rainy, icy and a few other dwarves. Doesn't that sound delicious? For those of us that were raised in Massachusetts, we expect the crocus and daffodils to be emerging right now. But in Vermont, we have mud season. And what a mud season we are having! I wear galoshes to work every day and slip on the ice on the way to and from. But inside my apartment, I'm doing my damnedest to counteract the crappy, crappy weather. I give you... THE VIVARIUM:

I have a 40 gallon tank I bought in my junior year of college (ahem, we won't mention what year that was...) that I tried to sell three times on craigslist. All 10 buyers fell through, which made me think that somehow I was made to keep this tank. In an act of self-fulfilling prophecy, I turned it into a vivarium.



My first official act as creator was to add plant friendly gravel and a big ol' log that had been living in my turtle tank:



It looked a bit dull, so I decided it needed a few artificial rock formations. At midnight on a Friday, with a can of "Great Stuff" expanding foam and a few transparent plant holders, I had the beginnings of rocky crags:



At 6am after they'd cured overnight, I painted them grey:



At 10am, I realized everything else in the tank was brown and repainted:




Then I added water, a spike leafed Ivy, a pitcher plant, two African violets, a few pothos cuttings, and a peacock fern, and we had a vivarium!



Not pictured are Fred and Ginger, my two fancy guppies. Originally I had three neons as well, but they succumbed to the cold. Let us remember and mourn their little fishy souls.

For those of you who are desperate for tropical plants, I highly recommend sticking a whole bunch of plants in a big tank with a bit of water. Nothing makes you feel more tropical than a vivarium, unless you're willing to fork over the dough for a tropical vacation. Which I'm not. Unless you'd like to contribute to the l.e.h.a.l.e. commemorative vacation fund. In which case feel free to make all checks out to "cash".

The Cruel Reality of Living in a Small Town

How you know you live in a small town and have been there way too long:

You view two newspapers' online slide shows of a valentine's day drag ball and you:

1. know more than half the crowd pictured
2. have dated more than one of the guys wearing a dress
3. now know what too many of your female friends look like wearing beards and pasties
4. spend most of the time critiquing your friends' drag outfits thinking you could have definitely done a better job on their make up
5. check out the way they've set up the venue because you rent it for one of your own events
6. wonder who donated to their fundraiser and if they'll share their mailing list
   

It may be time to move.

Happy V-Day

Because I love you all, enjoy the following:

Weird and Wonderful Moments

Tonight I hosted the grand opening of a program I run that serves free dinner to low income kids twice a week. The VT Foodbank coordinated the guest list so I really had no idea who was coming. I figured just a few folks from local agencies would show up a little after 5 (it was supposed to start at 4:30) and would stay for a second before inconspicuously ducking out. Instead, at 4:30 on the dot a stream of politicians, community activists, Foodbank representatives and shockingly enough, members of my Board of Directors arrived and took over half of the room. I immediately took my exhausted expression off my face and put on my happy happy special event smile and worked the room. The highlights of the evening? 1) officials from both of Vermont's senators' office getting their asses handed to them at ping pong by two 9 years olds and 2) former governor Howard Dean showing up in a track suit. Everyone stayed through dinner, ate with the kids, and had a great time. Over all a success I'd say, and a good warm fuzzy experience of a whole mess of politicians.

Confessions of a Sporadic Addict

I have suffered from a problem all my life: I get addicted to various things very easily and then completely lose interest for months at a time. I've started study in many a new field with extreme enthusiasm, absolutely sure that this will be my one true passion, only to put it down in a few weeks and wonder why I was ever interested. To wit:
- my art closet. This 6'x4'x4' behemoth cabinet is filled to the brim with enough supplies to make just about every kind of art project you can imagine.
- my collection of fish tanks. I once had 14 aquariums of fresh and saltwater fish going at once, many of them breeding populations.
- my kitchen appliances. I've had so many baking and cooking projects that needed just the right piece of equipment that I have a pantry that only has enough room to fit food on two out of 6 shelves.
- my coffee equipment. I could have an entire room solely dedicated to my contraptions used to roast, grind and brew coffee.
- and much, much more.

Which brings me to my current obsession - PLANTS! I haven't had this one come up in a while. I used to be an orchid addict. I had specialized lighting, humidifiers, moisture trays and pots dedicated to these stunning but finicky plants. Then I moved onto vegetable gardening and had entire binders devoted to notes and research. These days, I'm into exotics. The weirder the better. I'm thinking of putting together a bog garden since bogs have been a source of utter fascination for me from childhood on. In the last few days I've broken down and purchased really, really neat plants online including:


Selaginella umbrosa, aka Red Clubmoss. This native of Mexico is related to the super cool resurrection plant which can rehydrate itself with drops of water after being completely dessicated. This one, however, is much prettier.



Begonia "Phoe's Cleo". While not a particularly rare or remarkable plant, it's really neat looking and blooms in the winter when all Vermonters need it most.


Epiphyllum oxypetalum aka "Night Blooming Cereus". This truly wonderful and weird plant is a night blooming member of the orchid cactus family. Pure white flowers, the size of a dinner plate and super fragrant, open as soon as the sun goes down and stay open all night, closing in the morning which is perfect for an insomniac like me. I'm completely in love.


Sarracenia "Scarlet Belle". Ain't she a beaut? This pitcher plant eats insects and grows in water. Need I say more?

Nepenthes Rafflesiana. This gorgeous pitcher plant, unlike its cousin above, is a climbing vine. It produces two distinct types of pitchers (heavily modified leaves), which are used to capture and kill insects. The lower pitchers are generally round and squat, while the upper pitchers are more narrow. Mostly it's a really neat bog plant that eats bugs.

Since I'm moving to an apartment in June that has much more natural light than my current digs, I could be in for quite a fun ride with these plants. Josh, however, who's moving in with me, may not be quite as thrilled. Pity him, for I am stubborn.

A Good Ol' Fashion Vermont Morning

I just found out my accountant will be late to work this morning. That's not particularly noteworthy, but her reason is. She hit a turkey and it smashed her windshield. She's ok, but I doubt the turkey is and unfortunately she has no windshield left. This was, for the record, right outside Burlington which is a city of 39,000 people. The best part? According to the repair shop she was the third car this weekend that hit wildlife and had to have pieces replaced. Vermont - all the problems of inner city living with the added fun of suicidal wildlife! It's like playing an 80s video game every time you hit the road!

It's all for the kids

I've spent the last month, in addition to the onslaught of grant writing and billing I've faced, organizing the annual fashion show I co-run. This year we got some pretty fine media coverage as evidenced here:





Thanks to Eva Sollberger for the fabulous coverage.

By the way, cerebral drool reader/commenter Josh made the fabulous "ONE Fashion Event" banner seen in the background. Yeay Josh!

For Some Things There Are No Words

I have several email accounts and on one of my more mainstream portals, this was one of the top stories listed:

"Joaquin Makes Rap Debut, Declares, 'This Is Who I Am'"


While I support everyone's right to express themselves, this is one of the funnier and sadder things I've seen in a long time. Talk amongst yourselves.