The Sandman Got me upside the head last night

...I took a "nap" around 8:30 last night after a bath, and...you guessed it, woke up at 7:30 this morning. I do feel *very* rested,though.
(Sorry, Ilona, just too many things to do at home and too tired..bad Maus.)

I did finish the Lady of Masks painting, and added the butterfly wing. I feel the happy glow of accomplishment. (It was a hard painting to finish.) Maybe tomorrow when I lug it to work I can bum the digital cam off somebody and plug it into my website.

It's still horrifically hot where I am--mid nineties, 70 percent humidity and higher, and no relief until Friday. Most of the country's in the same bind. Anybody out there cooler than that? Can you explain in loving detail, so we all remember what it's like not to sweat gallons?

A slightly lighter Ms Eff. (Not eating much and sweating the aforementioned gallons. Well, heat ain't all bad...)

New names, old names....

Yesterday I found an SCA site(A midieval reenactment society) that had a friend of mine listed as a member. I wrote a polite letter to their seneschal asking to forward my e-mail address, signing it with my SCA name and title; Lady Magda Vladimirovna Krasnow.
I haven't used that name in a long time. (or been to an SCA event either. I miss them a little.)

It made me think of all the names and nicknames and such that I've given up, kept, let go, rejected, reclaimed.(For example, Fledermaus is a very old nickname reclaimed and with the Ms added to better reflect things now.) They're all little reincarnations of various parts of ourselves. They're all important, even the ones that don't fit anymore, because they say something about who we once were. (or even who we didn't want to be anymore...)

Ms Eff, a most phoenetic spelling of an abbreiviation of a nickname of a person what types Eff. Effeffeff...

*stomach rumble*

I have peppers and shallots and yams waiting for me on a bed of rice...and wasaaaaaaaaabi!!!!

I am Jack's rabid drooling problem..*foam drool foam*

And I have definitely dropped a little weight. Good. But whyyyyyy must it always be boobs FIRST?!?!?

Ms Eff,with more room in her bra for weapons. dont'cha hate it when that happens? *snicker*

The muse bonks my head, too...

I was in the breakroom with Rob, talking about Gus Lucky's and paintings we'd both just finished while I folded a little pink flower out of a post-it note. (Just to see if I could remember how to do it.) After I'd finished it, I handed it to Rob, who promptly stuck a Strawberry Mike and Ike candy in the middle.
Balancing it on the side of the couch, he grinned and said, "Think anyone will eat the candy out of the middle?"
"You're the grossest man alive, Rob" I answered...but thecandy/flower combinationwas actually very pretty and it gave me an idea. Make a big bouquet of pink flowers and give them stems, then stick Ike and Mike candies in them. (I could go Installation by acrylicing the candy, or Conceptual by letting people take the untreated candy out, eating it, and putting more in.)


I think I can make a small bouquet tonight, get some candy out of the vending machine, and voila!!!


Ms Eff, feeling clever.

Today was brought to you by the letter H...

H is for my middle initial.
H is for Hot dogs and mustard, and a cool glass of lemonade.
H is for humming.
H is for confused, angst-ridden Heart.
H is for Hints from Heloise, which I never follow.
H is for Holy chili-cheese Burrito, Batman!!
H is for Hunting for that pen I had a minute ago.
H is for Human, in all their stange and dysfuctional glory.
H is for Hungry Hungry Hippos.

And today in Minnesota, H is for Hot as a M^%$#rf%$#@^...98 degrees...am I still in the same state?

of course I am..a state of near heat-exhaustion, like everyone else here...

Ms Eff, guzzling water and eating pretzels for salt.

Sing with me!!!

"Those schoolboys bit the dust,
They couldn't take the pressure,
Those cool girls got knocked up;
they only wanted to have fuuuuuun,
Where did they go;
They fell in love and suffered,
Where did they go;
They picked up guns and hammers,
Where did they go;

Without friction there's no heat,
Without heat there can't be fire,
Without fire there's no desire,
You're making me hot, making me hot, Ohohohohohhhhhhhoooooottttt...."

MS Eff, turning"Sweat" up really loud. Sing it, Danny!!!

whuh?

Nobody's talking, an the piccies just got majorly screwed up....