Begging for Candy Really Should Only Happen One Day A Year

Oh, West Virginia, why are you so silly sometimes?

The thing is, I love my state. I might not have appreciated it fully until I left it, but I do in fact love that I am a West Virginian. I doubt you'll find people as kind, as generous, or as hardworking as those I've grown up with.

Not that we don't have our problems: meth, trailers on stilts, and Halloween trick-or-treating not happening on Halloween.

The last one I find the most concerning. Why are we celebrating a holiday not on that holiday? Doesn't that defeat the purpose? Isn't the day itself important? And, I've heard all the reasons. It is way too dangerous for kids when adults are out celebrating, people are up to sneaky rituals, blah blah, blah. There are no facts to support this and, more, Baltimore tricks or treats on Halloween. Big Bad City versus tiny, tiny town in rural WV. Which one is the more dangerous? Has the higher crime rates? And, yet, kids survive trick or treating in Baltimore every single year.

I'm sayin', WV, stop the insanity.


Cheers,
LV

P.S. We do have wineries. Kirkwood being one. We also have college, wear shoes, and marry our cousins only as frequently as any other state.

I Made This:

Time to Adam and Eve*.

Would you want to play some poetry mad libs? I think yes. Would you be even more excited if much of this poetry were in cockney rhyming slang? I thought so!

(Now that I've tested my Dora the Explorer method of writing, I'll move along.)

I've been a little obsessed with cockney for the last year or so. There are a few books that I have been just looking for an excuse to buy. I think I may have found it. The excuse. For the final project I'm thinking a Mad Libs-esque poetry page. It is basically a hypertext narrative, only there isn't necessarily a narrative. I ought to have discussed this, most likely, with the teachers. Instead, I'm moving ahead like I've got a plan and a goal and a keen desire to make a complicated page and complicate it with complicated language. I hope they like it. I hope I like it. I hope I can write more cockney poems. If it was just a one time fluke, this project will be a fail.

Also, if this doesn't work out I'm not sure what I'll do. In my soon-to-be-a-crotchety-hermit way I hate being filmed/having pictures taken, am repulsed by Twitter, and especially hate when people get on my lawn. What does this possibly leave me for alternative projects?

Cheers,
LV

*Adam and Eve being rhyming slang for believe.

A Hitch in the Homework

None of the video will save. I don't know what I'm doing differently on the PC, but I can't get any video to save. To even offer me the option of saving. I will have to go to class early in order to have everything ready to go when class actually begins. I find this frustrating.

As was the struggle to find a topic that would in any way be relevant to life. I think I've decided on using Dreamweaver for my final project but what I want to do is a little bit scary. At least for a novice web page-er. (Yes, I make up words daily. So should you.) Also, it is in no way relevant to iMovie making.

What helps? This video about personal hygiene. One of the many I have come across as I have been looking for video for my project. Oh, wacky military. You are so silly.

What else would help? Having my very own iMovie expert residing in a shirt pocket. But if wishes were horses, we'd all be walkin' in poo.

Cheers,
LV

The All Seeing Eye of Akbar

I've been obsessing about this video for class all week. I haven't been posting because I've been harassing everyone I come into contact with about what I can video. On my phone I have some seriously classic footage of the Preakness Parade. (Shockingly awful. I saw boobs.) But, it is on m'phone. My apartment--well, that'd be as boring as it gets. I have no furniture, three animals, and a boyfriend who would not appreciate being filmed.

I actually thought about interviewing his band and taking some video of band practice. Alas! Fail! As they just got back from tour they took this week off. Wednesday I am more than welcome to come and tape. Useful, that.

I could video my dogs. Mostly, they lie around and do gassy, old man things. Not enticing. (Yes. They are very old. )

Which actually leads me to the conclusion: I think it is going to have to be random. Yes, I'll do a video for my family: Top 10 Reasons To Visit Me In Baltimore. One of them will definitely be the threat of The All Seeing Eye of Akbar. I do not have video of this--video, I believe, would break the camera--but I do have a picture I can splice in. Oooh. And the mating peacocks. Tomorrow, I'll get some footage of the dragons (that will come in the night and kill you) and, you know, a few other Baltimore fun things. Nothin' like a deadline to inspire.

Cheers,
LV

Just Read the No Kill Nation Post. Seriously.

Sick week extended. Even less to report. Weevils still in the flour.

Ach and grr! That is what I have to say about one illness starting after another. It oughta be outlawed. I'll have a fast-draw gun fight and then no other illnesses will dare to double up. Put on my low slung holsters and quick-draw like no one in the west ain't never quick drawed before.

....I may be watching too many westerns. But, when one is ill, how much is too much? Reading makes my head ache right now (though I have readin' and writin' to do for school) and lying about in bed is all I've got the energy for. And while lying about in bed I'm enjoying watching cowboys. John Wayne or Josh Brolin, I don't care. Horses and hats and women who can shoot.

Which brings me to my other predicament (the first being my inability to be well for more than a day): I don't shoot. I want to shoot. M'dad offered me a gun when I moved to the city but I felt this was problematic on many a level. First, they say that you should be prepared to have any weapon you wield turned against you. Oh. And I can't shoot! He did offer to teach me. And maybe the next time I'm at his house we'll have target practice with the pistol. (Providing I get glasses. If I can't see the target I don't imagine I'll be doin' great shooting.)

I don't want to use it for self-defense. I just want to know how. It will add to my useful skill set which feels, today, empty. So, shooting would bring up to 1 on practical skills. I sort-of sew, but the sort-of really defeats the practical bit. OH! I make awesome western costumes out of sheets and bed skirts. (I'm sensing a theme.) I also do a pretty good twangy accent---coming from a land of twang I've actually had to work to keep it out of my voice.

Well, now that I've made you the victim of my crazy head, all I have left to say is

Cheers,
LV

No Kill Nation

Okay, just this once, nothing ironic or funny. Just a really good movement that I believe in. Go to the site. Look around.

My pets haven't come from shelters, but only one of them came from a pet store. I take in strays.

Right now, I have a cat named Davey. We found him in a Wal-Mart parking lot. When I took him to the regular shelter, thinking this tiny kitten would surely find a home fast (I was just starting college and had three dogs at the time), I was told that a biting cat couldn't be adopted. I tried to explain he had only bitten my mom after we had trapped him once then had to switch boxes because there was a hole in the one he was in. He was, at the time, about the size of my hand. Eyes open but so, so tiny. Fiercely afraid of everything. The explanation did not move the woman behind the desk so I asked for the cat back. He's four now and is the most affectionate cat I've ever been around. He likes to "give kisses" by rubbing his face against mine or my boyfriend's. He often sleeps curled in the crook of one of our arms while we sleep. He comes when called. Likes showers. And meows loudly when we leave the apartment. Yeah, some biting cat. Left up to the county shelter, he wouldn't have had any life.

He is not the first animal I've taken in, won't be the last. But I hate knowing that there are a lot of animals not finding homes or a chance. Particularly ones that have all ready been mistreated or neglected and need a little extra care and attention.

Cheers,
LV

Last Victim Etiquette

Sick week. Little to report. There are weevils in the flour.

Which one is the lie? Well, the last. My flour is, in fact, very well put away. I pride myself on having well sealed flour. What kind of lady, or Last Victim, would dare to do otherwise? Sealed flour and no slips showing, them's the rules, pals.And I, Not So Southern Lady that I am, have sealed flour and, to ensure against slip edges, don't wear slips. I have forsworn the skirt or the dress in an effort to be rid of the pesky fax pas of the showing slip edge.

It might be important to also not talk on a cell phone in a grocery line or to actually hold a door for someone coming in behind you or to not show bra-straps or undies. But with a quick jaunt through town I can see each of these things happening and know that I am the last line with my flour and my pinned-up (or just absent) slips.

Good luck, chums, with drawing your own lines.

Cheers,
LV

Shameless Advertisment

Car Party, the boyfriend's band, leaves on tour this Thursday. I'm quite excited. They all ready have a Russian radio station playing their single. This, I think, bodes well for all of us. If they get big in Europe, I'm game for moving. I found out recently that I too often use British spellings, thinking they are American. This, though, would make me an ideal writer for a British editor. (Don't you burst any bubbles. Hear me?)

Car Party, in case you are wondering, as an Indie-pop-dance band. I think. I think that's the label-ish thing we're giving them. But if you are curious by this mind boggling mix of musical genre, I suggest you listen to them. Or buy their EP. Or become slavishly devoted to them, requesting them on your local stations until the radio must put them on or endure fans picketing outside. Then, of course, you can start in on the newspapers and magazines. Then, we'll take over the world with music and a hand-pumping dance!

Also, as I just discovered, you can learn their lyrics in time for the tour! Yes, apparently, one excited fan has all ready posted them on elyrics.net. Don't you want to be an excited fan? I know I want you to. be. an excited fan. (That sounded better in my head.)

Whatever. Learn it. Love it. Live it. Car Party!

Cheers,
LV

P.S. I tried to post a picture, but no. I could not. Their website is all protected and whatever. I could post ones that I have but they are all only of the boyfriend. Who, while vital, is not in fact the entire band. Instead, follow a link and look at the pretty pictures. Or go to iunes and buy the pretty music. Also, I promise not to do this again. Probably.

Feathers and Leather

I believe that Eddie Izzard's hilarity is in direct proportion to how hot his clothes are. The better the clothes--particularly pants and shoes--the better the comedy. Thanks to Netflix I have come up with this theory, the basis for my future doctoral thesis. I'm quite excited.

I mean, I've been searching for what to do with my life. First and english degree, then an MFA. What was I planning with those? But no. Now, now I know. I excel at TV watching. In a practical vein I might say I want to become a TV writer--but I'd rather write a thesis on comedy linked to a comedian's fashion. I can sound smarmy. And be called Dr. I can get money for talking about my findings and make appearances on I Love the [Insert Decade Here]. What's not to love?



Cake or Death? A little Muttley with your Bond? He's wearing hot black pants and high-heeled shoes for both. Trust me. Be guided by his clothes.

Also, just enjoy. He makes history and language funny. And really is dressed to kill.

Cheers,
LV

The End is Nigh!

I think I'm done with the webpage. Just waiting to see if I can upload everything to my student web space. If I do/am personally able then I will really be all done. Except for finishing up the paper. Oh, the paper. Where I get to chat about all my foibles and follies and want-to-smash-the-computer moments over the last weeks.

Sounds like good readin'.

But this waiting on the H drive to become available makes me sad. I wouldn't have left it until the last minute except that I had no intention of trying to upload the page until the last minute. I finally decided on my text color--yeah, still not sure, but going with it--and thought: I should try to upload this!

Brilliant.

I mean, once you see the page you'll understand how really technical I got just creating it. I mean, with its super static layout and one text box. So, sure I can figure this out. Totally.

Hope all your webspaces are done and done beautifully.

Cheers,
LV

Not a foodie, but a review just the same

I just got back from lunch at Kona Grill. The boyfriend is a bartender there so we got to be part of their practice opening--which meant free food and drinks. Very cool.

Except that I am so picky. Alex has been going on about the deliciousness for weeks now. Of course, when he goes on about it he talks about coconut-this or pineapple-that. And some-sort-of-nut-crusted-meat. Which to you, with your adult taste buds, probably sounds fantastic.

But, I like mac'n'cheese. Hot dogs. I do like veggies--squash casserole, potato soup. But green and leafy are basically bad words. (Yes, I know. I know every thought you are thinking about the badness of this.)

So, I was afraid when we went in today because there were no substitutions for the practice round. If it came with spinach, I couldn't sub wok-tossed veggies. If rice came with coconut, I was going to have to cope.

Goodie for me, I was pleasantly surprised. The lemon-crusted halibut did come with spinach and coconut-rice. I admit to not even tasting the spinach, but the rice was really good. (I got the sauce on the side.) Plus, Alex's Las Vegas roll was fantastic. I thought I was done with sushi. My last two sushi meals were less than appealing; memorable but not in a good way. But Kona's sushi--that I would do again.

But the best part: a free drink with lunch. And I do mean adult beverage. Strawberry-Basil Lemonade deliciousness. If I didn't have class tonight I would have had 2 or 5 more. At which point Alex would have had to pour me into a cab, but I would have felt that it was ample reward for the 4 hours I spent in the design lab yesterday and an incentive for the hours I'm planning to spend tomorrow.

So, my point: If you are a little less picky than I am, go and eat at Kona. You know, when it opens. Also (because I'm totally self-serving) tip your bartender well.

Cheers,
LV

Lasso of Truth

Because Wonder Woman is my hero.

Actually, it is magnetic and it is in Photoshop. But it is also the lasso of truth because I can't quite get it to function. I blame my parents. I didn't have video games when I was coming up. Well, we had a Sega, a master system Sega, and Ghostbusters, Duck/Safari Hunt, and Motor-Cross. I hunted wild game because the gun was fairly easy to aim.

When I attempted the heights of Mario Brothers, I discovered I didn't know how to jump. Which brings us to now. I still can't jump over those random gaps in Mario. Nope. I die in each and every crevice or fire-pit, only making it to the next level is someone takes pity and helps me.

Which brings me back to the lasso and the cropping tools. Yeah, sure, the rest of my generation are savvy, could be surgeons. I, I have clumsy hands. The left one, well, it has a Frankenstein scar that excuses its extra oafishness, but what excuse the right? Laziness, I think. They just don't want to do anything else. I mean, all ready they type all day. (Swift they are too. Their one skill.) So, they've decided no more. If I want to use computer tools with any sort of dexterity, I'm going to have to use my feet.

Cheers,
LV

Don't Panic! Wait. Too late.

I have settled into a mid-semester panic. The temperature fluctuates between freezing and sweltering. The locals talk too fast and I'm pretty sure there is drowning in my future. My dog is barking at air, so he senses it too. Animals do that, sense natural disasters and make for higher ground. Unfortunately, he's trapped with the natural disaster (namely me) and so can only announce his distress.

And, in all honesty, I can't say why.(Why the panic, not his having no ability to flee the scene.) It isn't loads of work or even my newly perpetual status as unemployed. (Newly because, until I moved to Baltimore, I was always gainfully employed and much loved by said employer.) Why the heart racing, sweaty palms, and shortness of breath?

Maybe because everything seems due the same week. Or I'm pretty sure I've never written "literary fiction" in m'life, despite years of writing. It could be my utter lack of technological skills or technology having.

Maybe it is my big-mouthed opinionated honesty. I need a shut off valve. I really, really do. Instead, I yammer away in class, like the dork that I am. I yammer away on-line, like the dork that I am. I'm telling you, a muzzle, a catatonic state, or even just a martini would be welcome right about now.

In the meantime, I've got Douglas Adams: Don't Panic.

Cheers,
LV