Caught up with Leah today over tea at the teahouse and stayed on to work on the ol' laptop. Georgisan phoned then he and Simon came to visit. They were looking for MattK and I said Well, you just missed Leah, Matt's apparently dogracing in Montana. They expressed as much disbelief as I had, but it's true. Had plans to see Liz at Thursday's hangout and told the guys to see me there. They arrived as I was trying to redesign my business card and after I got yet another haircut to fix the previous cut that had zero flow. Both Geo and Simon say they liked the previous, that it did have flow. Went to salon that Teahouse Jen suggested next door and gave the guy some parameters - I want flow, I want sexy, I'm growing this out, and you have twenty minutes. He did it.
Time to rush out to Middling City U for a gig and then many points beyond.

Flowing, hairy Love.

Homework assignment:
1. Drink too much
a. coffee
b. alcohol
2. Make a quick list (jot, if you will) of various members of the rodent genus.
3. Ponder differences (biologically, aesthetically, sociopolitically) between different rodent species and write 50 words on why one may favour one species over another.
4. Look at image above. If this groundhog were your pet what would her/his name be?
5. Bonus question: Why are rodents cuter than birds? (worth 10 points)

Yours truly is off to photograph the Middling City v of Groundhog Day. Good ol' taxidermied Ridge Lee Larry, festooned in his annual hat and sash, will once again emerge from the bowels of the Geology Department at MCU to maybe see a shadow, to maybe fall over, to just take in the fresh air and loving looks of those gathered in the parking lot where show/magic happens.

Magical Love.

UNABASHEDLY
and I do mean un-fuhreakin-bash-edly listening to disco. Disco. And Goria Gaynor's I Will Survive (although co-opted by millions of dragqueens and I can envision all the merry lip-synched versions I have seen of this anthemic beaty tune onstage, accompanied by boas and the like, is so Everygirl) is on right now and I just got up from the office chair to do some hai-karate kicks.
This just in:
Received email today informing Yours Truly that YT appears inside a sonic relelase by The Spoons. Apparently I'm holding one of my cameras, am in the pit of one of their shows.
Fame by Irene Cara (you see, it's a greatest of the Disco hits), appropriately enough, is like so on right now.

Dance Fever, Love.

Had a most pleasant DIY car inspection experience today, just like days of yore when Yours Truly drove questionable vehicles and would arrive on the scene at an equally questionable car repair shop where you'd be asked It's a good car - to which the reply would/should be Ohh, yes, it's a great car and then there'd be an exchange of some cash for a sticker, which would be affixed not by said inspector but by the faux-inspectee.
So I arrived as scheduled and there was a look-over and, with a mere 16K on the odometer, I was put in charge of filling in all the numbers and such on the computer which apparently is linked to some wired NYS office of inspectional matters.
No pesky car on lift, no removal of any car tires for brake look-see. With socializing the visit was about 45 minutes, far more efficient than the hour+ a down&dirty inspection would be.
Onwards.
Today was a day of official business accomplished and to celebrate YT purchased her first-ever (and probably only-ever eyelash curler).
After all that motorheading about I think subconsciously I needed a good girlie fix.

Motorhead/Girlie Love.

NB:
If anyone has found my art impetus please tell it to come back to Yours Truly. Like now.
Events as of late have conspired to keep general creative endeavors from being within reach. But, in prep-mode, things are organized, the car is clean (outside), the sketch books are full, art supplies are at the ready.
Suddenly realized in a panic today that I have forgotten to register for the NC-based HGTV dream house, and I promised Loomis I'd be diligently doing so. I informed Lauren over coffee at SPoT last week that I will possibly be hanging out in the NC mountains until the utilities get shut off as I'm sure HGTV is not footing all the future bills and who in hell can heat a 1,200,000 s/f home.
Now, suddenly, the slogan The road to hell is paved with good intentions simmers in my mind like that Coldplay song was much earlier this fine springy day (and who can truly enjoy fifty degree dead-of-winter days, warmest in over a century, and not ponder how we are roasting away the atmosphere with CFCs, SUVs, BYOBs, and that NYT story detailed how an environmental whistle blower/freaker-outer has been quieted by Bush et al). And, speaking of perfect homes, home improvements, paving jobs, somewhere, I imagine, someone has fabricated paving stones that read 'good' and 'intentions' for some alternatingly, hilarious garden times.
As I waited to speak to Lawyer Tom today to wrap up smatters I caught up on the fandom vortex, the weekly journal of amnesiac fun fact: People mag.
YT is both an inhaler of pop culture and mag addict yet somehow the whole Eminem/Kim story fell through the cerebral cracks. The reconciliation that tops all somehow slid right by my astuteness. I think I might be the only person I know who saw Eight Mile, in the Shiney Apple, and dug it, and (super-bonus points)photographed him as he was ascending.
So how did I just not know.

Love, sometimes you just do not ever know.