Gnumoon's Stuff

I'm so Ghandi

I just took the Political Compass test, and it turns out that I am a bit of a Communist Anarchist, or at least that is the way that I lean. The official results are:

Your political compass

Economic Left/Right: -4.75
Social Libertarian/Authoritarian: -4.00

This is noteworthy because those numbers also represent my left and right eye contact lens prescriptions. Freaky deaky.

I think there are questions on it that peg you a certain way, and so may be weighted more than others, such as "From each according to his ability, to each according to his need is a fundamentally good idea." That sounds like a basic Communist principle to me, but then Communism is great- in theory. And I have long thought that Chairman Meow would be a fantastic name for a cat.

Although the test is interesting, and that of the examples given I would much rather have tea with Ghandi than anyone else on the list (we were sharing the same spot on the grid), I still find the method skewed. The choices are "Strongly Disagree" "Disagree" "Agree" and "Strongly Agree." I will say right now that there were several questions on the test that I had to choose an answer when in truth I did not give a shit. I guess that means I have a high level of sociopolitical apathy. That must be on some hidden Z axis that they don't want us to know about.

Pittsnoggling CareBears

This is  "Thing 1 and Thing 2's Things", a kama sutra-esque art exhibit that appeared in my office one day, care of inspired coworkers. It relates to tonight's post...more on that later.

I loved tonight's Wake Forest/West Virginia tournament game. Not because it was a David vs. Goliath matchup, not because it put a team that bitched about not getting the #1 seed in their place, and not because it was a sports extravaganza of the highest order. Nope- I dug it because WVa has a player named Pittsnoggle. And a player named Herbert, pronounced "HairBear (like CareBear)." The thought of Pittsnoggling Carebears makes me giggle. And it made me giggle through 2 overtimes. So that is a second reference to some weird kind of "Furry" mating rituals. And speaking of Furries and Coworkers, a guy I used to work with had a completely bizarro infatuation with mascots. He was a Fur-eak.

Today was a "lock myself in the studio and mosaic" kind of day. I realized that I have nowhere near enough stuff to sell at this fair(e), so I must make more. I grouted a cool wyvern (did you know that you can dye sanded grout with acrylic paint? Well you can.), but while I was cleaning it I tore a big hole in my thump. Yowch...my hands look like I routinely play Bloody Knuckles with Edward Scissorhands anyway, thanks to the jagged little tiles that I love so. What's one more scar?

I ran across this guy's blog today, and he had all these tips for successful blogging...true, he had about 26 comments on every post, so that makes him a successful blogger but I disagree with this tip:
"similarilly, nobody gives a shit what the weather is like in your town,... and nobody gives a rat ass what song youre listening to."
I like to write what I'm listening to, because it generally reflects my mood- I'm not trying to impress anyone with my musical taste- I mean, I can scroll down and see the Ramones, Buffett, and Rush gracing this page. Not exactly cutting-edge stuff. But there is usually some REASON I'm listening to it. Eh, no biggie.

Another of that guy's points was to keep your blog secret from family and friends (I assume so you won't feel the need to censor yourself), and I DO agree with that to a degree. Because if this was an anonymous listing, you can damn well be sure I'd be on a rant tonight. Here's a tip for everyone, not just bloggers:
If you feel strongly (and perhaps drunkenly) the need to fornicate with someone who is not your mate, please respect your mate enough not to go through with it. Stop fucking around with the self-worth of completely beautiful intelligent young women, or I might come to your house and remove your testicles. Thank you. ps- If you do go through with it, do NOT act all shocked when you get your lowlife ass dumped...you get NO points for confessing your sin.

Currently Listening to: Hell Yes, by Beck (who looks exactly like my uncle. It is creepy, really)
Scrabble WOTD: TAMPION- n. pl. -S, a plug for the muzzle of a cannon (Good concept...I wonder if there are similar nouns for things with similar functions?)

My Formative Years: PWN3D by Hollywood

Tonight the girls took J out to dinner…it took an act of congress to get her to let us pay, but then an act of congress is why we took her out in the first place. She is due in three weeks, but the doctor said that he will induce her whenever she wants to go. Hmm, it’s Tuesday, I’m bored, there isn’t anything good on TV…I think I’ll go have a baby. They know she’s having a boy, but they are undecided on a name, choices at the moment are Micah, Jake, Caid, and Allouicious. Not really…they’d never name a baby Jake.

My vote is for Jefferson, Jake for short, so his wife can yell “JEFFERSON EDWARD BRIGGS!!!” like in the greatest John Hughes movie ever. Not, not “Ducky,” that is a different flick. Not “Long Duck Dong” either.

Come to think of it, John Hughes really messed up my mind regarding what my teenage years were supposed to be like. Sure, I was always the shy artist who pined for the BMOC athlete, but never ONCE was that feeling reciprocated. And especially not in a dramatic manner that would inspire someone to make a film about it.  

One year BMOC’s locker was right there beside mine…every day it went like this:
BMOC: Morning, Leila.
Me: Hi, xxxxx
BMOC: See you in English. Walks away
Me: (says nothing, dies a little bit on the inside)

And my proms were so boring. I NEVER pieced together my own dress after my parents forgot my birthday and then went to said prom only to have my asshat date, who was only there because he made a bet with his friends that he could score before graduation, spike the punch and pass out…(breaaaathhhh) and NEVER as I then stood out in the rain pondering why I can’t find true love (as “Time After Time” can be heard in the background), the BMOC, having just dumped his drunkass head-cheerleader girlfriend, runs out into the misty night and confesses his unending love for me. And NEVER, just as we are about to kiss, does the principal take the stage and announce that BMOC and I have just been named prom King & Queen, and I go back into the gym arm-in-arm with the hottest man on the planet to receive my crown. NEVER did this happen to me, but when I left middle school for the wide world of HIGH SCHOOL, I thought it was a given.

But on a positive note, I also never used my telekinetic abilities to burn down the gym and kill the student body after it was revealed that my being named prom queen was just part of a cruel attempt to pour pig blood on me and humiliate me in front of the whole school. They're all going to laugh at you!

Neither John Hughes nor Stephen King fully realize the teenage girl experience. Imagine that. King's wife Tabitha grasped the weirdness of teenage girlitude much better in her book One On One.

Currently Listening to: Love Will Tear Us Apart, by Joy Division
Scrabble WOTD: DEIL- n. pl. -S, the devil (used in a sentence:  "Dale Dielh made a deal with the DEIL; ordeals ensued.")

Blue Elephants and Green Brew

For no reason at all, today's picture is of an adorable baby hedgehog. Young animals of the world elicit an immediate awwwwww reaction from me...baby humans, notsomuch.

Tonight we did the St. Patty’s Day/athletics employee thing to do and went to the sports bar to drink (narsty) green beer and watch the NCAA tournament. It was pleasant, although I think I only watched about 14 minutes of basketball. If I’m not shooting or statting it, I just can’t get interested. We also discussed today that because of my job there are things that I shouldn’t discuss here on my blog that might endanger my employment (or at the very least make me look crass and unprofessional), so I regret to inform you that I will not be posting my updated “2005 Conference All-Fugly Team”, nor will I be listing the “2005 Conference Hawtness Team.” Both are stellar compendiums, extensively researched throughout the five-month season by myself and a crackpot team of fugly/hawtness experts. Sorry for the omission.

After the bar, I came home and hit the hot tub…but unbeknownst to me it had yet to fully heat up after a several-gallon infusion of ice-cold mountain spring H2O last night. I plunged in…and then realized that the temp was a tepid 99 degrees. I stood in the waist-deep water looking at the thermostat go 99-98-99-98-99-98…the air temp was about 30, so into the water I went.

So there I was, just my face sticking out of the water like a crocodilian of some kind, wondering how fast I will get REALLY cold. The water was exactly the same temperature as my body, and it caused an odd sensation- specifically, NO sensation whatsoever. I couldn’t feel my body at all…it was as if the water had either become an extension of my person or I had become nothing but a floating, disembodied head.

So I just laid there in the water, feeling nothing. I felt huge, like the liquid was somehow me, and it felt like I was fat…like the medics would tell the Channel 5 news “she died and we had to cut the side off the doublewide to get her corpse out” kind of fat. It was surreal. I felt the need to yell at Salacious Crumb in my Jabba voice: Boonowa tweepi, ho, ho, ho!  In a related tangent, Max Rebo is the best character in that series...in a film series, even.

Currently listening to:  Waka, by Camper Van Beethoven
Scrabble WOTD: RANGY- adj. tall, having long limbs (In the spirit of the NCAA's, y'know)

Mizzou's Not Gonna Take It ANYMORE!

So today I was at lunch with three (3) of the most nutso NCAA tournament crazy boys today (we work in collegiate athletics, so whaddya expect). They were talking about Missouri’s coach, Quin Snyder, blahblahblah. The conversation morphed into how much more interesting Mizzou basketball would be if their coach was in fact Dee Snider of Twisted Sister instead of the more staid Quin (I can neither confirm nor deny their relation). That brings us to today’s photoshop- click for the full-sized goodness. I swear sometimes I do actually WORK at work.

It occurred to me that last night’s post should have been titled “Max-Tor and the Snow Dog” to keep up with the Rush theme of the last few days.  To continue to piss people off (but mostly to amuse them) I also did one of Neil’s Vanilla Ice phase. Isn’t his face priceless? One of my Rushbuds told me to watch the mailbox for a C&D letter from Neil or Anthem Records any day now.

And with no other blogalicious segue, it occurred to me that if I was to be a pinup girl, it would definitely be Bettie Page. She is just so awesome. She’s a natural girl who somehow manages to look wholesome whilst wielding a whip. Check her out.    And points for the alliterative nature of that last phrase.

And in a link that was sadly omitted from my Peep entry, I give you PeepResearch. The separation surgery is my favorite part. (Thanks to Cecily on this one)

Currently listening to: Just Like Heaven, by The Cure
Scrabble WOTD: DONGOLA- n. pl. -S, a type of leather (although the one time I used this in a sentence, it was "That (name removed) is such an idiotic asshat. He's a dongola.")

Blame it on the Snow that was Falling Falling

We’re supposed to get 4 inches of snow tonight, and 8 more tomorrow. That can really only mean 2 things: 1.It’s spring in the High Country, and 2. Time for some last-chance snowboarding. I’m personally ready to get winter over and done with; this one hasn’t been as much about boarding and playing in the snow as it has been about ice and the amazing unending flu season. The only one who still truly loves to see the white flakes on the weather report is Max (see picture). He loves the snow…I think it is always new for him. He walks out onto the porch and… what the hell is this stuff? Ooh I can EAT it! This is awesome!*
     *Romping in the snow ensues.

Today’s high point had to be that the owner of a printing company was really interested in my work and went so far as to offer me some freelance stuff. It was a great mood and ego boost (as the morning had been decidedly shitty until that point), plus I’m always looking for new work as to avoid being in a design rut. Cha-ching! Now I just have to impress him with the stuff I design for The Big Dinner Deal…but then I also have to impress the hell out of my boss at that same event, so you know…no pressure, right?

I'm offering this as well tonight, because it is weird. Tina! Come get some ham!

Currently Listening to: Blame It On Me, by the Barenaked Ladies
They say that absence makes the heart grow fungus.
I wax poetic as you're waxing your legs

Scrabble Word of the Day (A New Feature! Added for my loyal constant reader Ba): STHENIA: n pl. –S ; having excessive energy

I Photoshopped Alex Lifeson

OK, OK, ENOUGH! This picture (click on it to see it full-sized) has once again popped up in different places with the usual cadre of people ready to burn the artist at the stake for making fun of Alex Lifeson and his legal woes. I DID IT! I DID IT AS A JOKE A LOOONG TIME AGO- I NEVER MEANT TO MAKE FUN OF ALEX. A friend of mine said in passing one day, "Maybe Lifeson's legal trouble will get Rush some street cred with the hip kids." It was such a ridiculous idea that I Photoshopped this up for him and posted it...well in a matter of days it was everywhere.

It showed up on other messageboards, it showed up on Mike Portnoy's (of Dream Theater) site, it was like a virus. And people were either laughing or spitting mad, and some people even thought it wasn't a fake and wondered when Lerxst got all tatted.

To all who saw the picture...I would never have made light of Lifeson's legal troubles- in fact, I made it thinking that if he ever SAW it, that he would find it amusing. He (allegedly) has a great sense of humor, and one guy who knows him told me that if I ever took this picture to a meet-and-greet, that Alex would most likely laugh and autograph it for me.

I thought the hoopla had died down, but I guess that I was wrong. Behold the power of the internet. Can I say that on some level I am completely flattered by all this attention? At least I'm good at what I do, even if it is (as it has been described) "stupid" and "sub-sophomoric."

For my next bit of PS trickery, I am going to give Geddy Lee a tiny nose and say that he got plastic surgery and then 'shop a big goofy smile onto Neil.

Currently Listening to: Show Don't Tell, by Rush.

Get Thee to The Fair"e"

Got my confirmation Gmail, which I was waiting for before I posted anything about this…I have my first juried art/craft show in May. Whoo-hoo! It is in Asheville, so I’ll be spending the weekend with my dear uncle, who is a new resident of Ashe-vegas. He is also helping me set up and peddle my wares- lucky him, since I make the heaviest craft EVER….mosaics.

Anyyyyway, so I will be at the Mountain Renaissance Adventure Faire in May. That is Fair”e” with an E, people. That means that it is the REAL DEAL. I also have to dress up in period clothing, which will present somewhat of a challenge since, as mentioned previously, I sell the heaviest craft Ev-ar. Some up to 50 pounds or more. This picture is of a large mirror that I made with a jigsaw (NOW with amazing scrolling action!), plywood, and lots of glue and porcelain and glass tiles. It isn’t really a piece that I offer for sale, but if someone offers me enough for it…well who am I to argue with an art collector?

So the next few weeks will be devoted to making and grouting as many things as I possibly can. Stepping stones, mirrors, clocks, etc etc etc…I’m making them all. Wyverns, mermaids, celtic knots, clovers, hearts, moons, stars, they’re all part of me lucky charms. Wait, that’s something different.

I’m quite excited about all this- I hope that it will help me answer some questions about the marketability of my mosaics and how much I should pursue the venture. Heck, if I have a lot of interest, I might even make that website like I’ve been threatening. If nothing else, it gets me away from this all-consuming job for a while. I’ve been feeling lately like I’m having an identity crisis; I give everything to my work and have no time for hobbies or my own interests. This may be the creative outlet that I need.

In other news, I am very jealous of those lucky geeks who got to go to SXSW.

Currently Listening to: Scarborough Fair, by Simon and Garfunkel. Notice that this has no "E" on the end. That means that not everyone will be in costume, and that there be no smooth elf-nerds. 

Family Fottergraphs

What a gorgeous weekend it has been- I hear we're in for more snow this week, but it looks like Spring is trying to peek through a bit. We're feeling antsy for travel on our own...we have discussed Barbados, the Turks, and NYC...that last one inspired by my middle youngest brother who just returned from a whirlwind spring-break trip to the art museums of NYC. Just Grf and 10 girls from his art club...that kid knows how to pick his extracurriculars, doesn't he? Most college kids go to Cancun and spend money on PBR, he goes to NYC and gets drunk on Monet.

So I'm going through my great-grandmother's picture album, scanning, cleaning, and restoring all of her pictures, some that date back to the turn of the last century. I treasure photographs above anything else I own, and this scrapbook of Mama Sue's is the greatest trove of memories that I have ever seen. I don't know many of the people, but I know that she collected these photos for years, lovingly placing them in her book, and each of them meant something to her, was a memory that she cherished. I feel like it is a great honor to be the keeper of this book, the librarian of family history. (I also get to make sure that really bad pictures of me accidently don't get scanned)

This is a picture of my mother and her sisters and brother, circa 1960. It was the picture inside the card that said, "From our home to yours- Merry Christmas!"

Currently Listening to: Slowdown, by Morcheeba

An 18-Point Hyrax

This adorable little guy is a rock hyrax, one of three species of hyrax that are indigenous to the African continent. It may be my favorite animal...closest living relatives are the elephant and the dugong, and yet it resembles a certain mouse-Pokemon. And let's not forget that the name alone is worth 18 points in Scrabble, not counting if you hit a triple word score. Plus, it is a word likely to be challenged, thus making your competition look like an idiot and getting you a free turn.

The hyrax is so unlike other animals that it is placed in a                 separate order (Hyracoidea) by itself. Read all about them here.

An honorable mention in the "Furry mammals that are good Scrabble words" category goes to the scourge of the Louisiana lowlands, the nutria. "But wait!" you say... "Nutria is worth just six points! That is a TERRIBLE Scrabble word, giving up a valuable "N" and an "A" for less than 10 points! And what if you pull the "Q"? And you have used your "U" in such a manner?!" Calm down, dear boardmate...the point is that while "nutria" might get you challenged, the challenge and the points are yours for the taking with the alternate name for this greasy beastie, coypu (12 pts). True, true, you burn up a "U" whilst the "Q" might still be lurking in the bag, but putting a "U" at the end of a word means that when you pull the letter, it is likely that the needed addition will still be available on the board.

Currently listening to: The gas logs in the fireplace....ahhhh warmmm. Max may well catch on fire, he is sleeping that close to it. We usually wait for him to fall into a deep sleep, then drag him by his feet away from the flames. He's too asleep by that point to care.