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Feb. 8th, 2010

Bunny Monster



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Nothing says "Happy Easter" like a wall-eyed, make-up smudged rabbit figurine from hell. This piece might be depicting the decline of one of Easter Bunny's helpers who secretly sipped Wild Turkey from his egg.




By the way, I'm really hoping to win this ugly thing on Ebay. Its original price was 5 cents, and in the last 60 years it has worked its way up to 99 cents! That's right, this treasure is almost 20 times as valuable.

Some things (like this rabbit) should have just never be made in the first place. But when these undesirables make it out in the world anyway, they belong on my shelf.

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Feb. 6th, 2010

New & Lazy




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I give the new Monopoly game an EF for Epic Failure. Kids will probably love it, though. Changed all the playing pieces, rounded up the board, and worst of all there's NO CASH. The bank is electronic and located in the middle of the board.




Part of the fun of Monopoly is stealing money from the banker (altho I never actually did this, it's something I liked busting someone else doing). It's also the joy of being handed a big wad of cash when you wipe someone out with your heartless hotels.  Most importantly, how you store your damn money is part of playing the game and having any personality whatsoever.




Everyone arranges their cash differently:

A. One neat stack of all bills together that doesn't show the other players how much you really have
B. OCD: Neat piles for each kind of bill. Each pile perfectly aligned side by side and partially tucked under the board with utmost obsessive compulsiveness.
C. Secret stasher: Some money on the table, some under his ass, and maybe a couple 500's tucked under the shirt. Other players tend to think he's broke and no longer a threat.
D. Pigpen: He has all of his money in a big messy pile and spends a lot of time digging out correct change.
E. Mystery Millionaire: Regardless of where this person keeps his money, he produces endless $500 bills, as he's swiping them from the bank.


There was also always a smaller kid at the table who couldn't even count, so we'd take the time show him that three green bills, one yellow bill, and one pink bill pays the luxury tax. Eventually the kid knew this on his own, and eventually he even understood that he was handing over $75 ...


Oh, but with the new version of the game he can just swipe his ATM card. Booooo.



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Feb. 4th, 2010

Time Travel and the Postman




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Feb 4th, 1980

I guess I was playing with the computer's calendar recently, as someone has pointed out that yesterday I posted from the future--- a week from now. (I had to correct this in order to make this post appear after it). Yesterday was an accident, but today I really did try time travel. I'm posting from 1980, although LiveJournal won't accept the date. Let me tell you, it was tough to find a good computer and an internet connection.







On a completely different note, here's a delivery from Netflix yesterday:





Yes, that's a streak of fresh mud across the envelope, along with all the crumpling. I don't know if it was crushed on the way into the mailbox or sometime before, but I'm curious because we no longer have our aggressive/angry mail-lady these days. Wonder if the movie will play.


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Feb. 3rd, 2010

Next Goose





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Here's something new in clay, which I'll paint tonight or tomorrow. She's based on a ghost girl in a story I have half-ass written, and there are just a few sketches.





I got carried away and made her too big. She's like a foot tall and gonna be a pain to keep from breaking. She's also really lumpy, as I ended up worrying more about keeping her upright than with details. She also had an accident along the way.

After this fiasco I'm once again fully committed to small critters with stumpy appendages.

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Jan. 28th, 2010

Painted




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Finished painting those two clay thingies from my last post. Here:



Added a blanket to the baby carrot after I was finished with everything, as he looked kinda cold. I also broke his rattle while I was painting it. Glued it back together and then broke it again, ha. Now it's in the trash.

Actually, in the middle of sculpting I usually feel like throwing away the whole piece because I can't find any potential in it. But then halfway thru painting I begin to have fun. I wish I had patience to make it to that point more often.

By the way, that carrot in a diaper is the picture I always see in my head whenever I hear someone mention baby carrots.

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Jan. 26th, 2010

Spruce up a goose






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My website has looked the same for five or six years. I suppose I should change it (yes, I made it myself, and I think that's obvious), but that's a whole project of its own, and I'm also afraid I'll just make it look worse. I'm more concerned that the site itself never has much new content --- I never add any drawings, rarely a new book, never any sculptures. Bad girl.

I did sculpt some silly stuff the other day (and I use the word "sculpt" loosely, as I'm more of a messy squisher --- no real details). I'm excited about a new clay that is the answer to everything that has turned me off clay. It's lightweight, doesn't crumble/crack, bakes in the oven. It's so soft that it doesn't stand up very well, but ya can't have it all. I'm ordering some more of this clay, and byGod if I don't sculpt with all of it asap, I vow to eat it.

Here's what I've started, which now needs to be painted. Baby carrot in a crib, and mushroom grandpa reading to mushroom kiddos:





Now that I've posted this I'll feel more obligated to paint them soon.


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Jan. 22nd, 2010

Haitian kid found after more than a week...




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And smiling! Hooray!




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Jan. 20th, 2010

Waste of a Perfectly Good Day



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Migraines are such a waste of time. I've had one visiting with hour breaks here and there ever since Monday morning. Uninvited. Relentless. Mean. Time vampire. Eventually ya just can't even think straight and don't care. If there had been a button to press for easy self-destruction, I'd have given up and hit it today.




It's eased up this evening, and then I watched a great movie. I liked this part:

I used to think the worst thing in life was to end up all alone. It's not. The worst thing in life is ending up with people who make you FEEL alone.

I'm not relating this to anyone in particular presently in my life, but been there...

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Jan. 14th, 2010

Sold to Vampires








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A new Not-For-Children Book is on my site:

http://www.deannamolinaro.com/SoldToVampires/STV_Cover.html

This one is by Aaron. He told me the story and drew all the pictures, and then I wrote it out for him. That's a backwards way to work, I know, but that's how we do things...

Anyway, his pictures are fun:




I should point out that he almost didn't want me to post it because the world is so saturated with vampires right now --- it would seems he's hopping on a trend. Fact is, his imagination has revolved around vampires/mummies/Frankenstein/monsters/wolfman since he was a kid, and he can't be denied access vampires just because they are everywhere right now. I said so.


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Grade School Poem


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Back in grade school the teacher would make us copy down poems from the blackboard to practice our hand-writing. Here's a poem I still have that wouldn't fly these days:


click to enlarge...


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Jan. 13th, 2010

Cute but uninvited


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Christmas before last I bought Aaron an owl house because he loves owls, and we've been seeing saw-whet owls in the neighborhood. I heard they have a shortage of homes, so they are really likely to use a box if you hang it in a tree.

We've been watching the box for a long time and have only seen tiny birds go in and out of it now and then. Today I could see a brown face peeking out, and I ran to get my binoculars for a better look.

Here he is. Dammit.




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Jan. 9th, 2010

Chicken Leg



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Looking back I'm realizing I have something in common with my Grandpa in that I liked to give people nicknames, and I did this as far back as kindergarten. There was a girl I named Kitten and one I called Rose, and a boy I called Elf, another boy I called A&W Rootbeer. Some of them I remember why I named them, and others are senseless. Like Chicken Leg. Cute little blond kid in 1st grade --- no idea why I called him that.

One day Chicken Leg and I were out at recess on the merry-go-round. You know, the old metal ones that you could lose your grip on and fly off to bust your head open. But that's not what happened this day.



On this day I noticed a hole rusted out near the center of the merry-go-round. It was completely dark down in that hole. I wanted to reach in there and see what I could feel, but we were always spinning, which might make it more dangerous. So of course I asked Chicken Leg to reach in there for me.



Chicken Leg was cautious. The merry-go-round was stopped now and we both tried to peek down there. He said, "What if something bites me." And I said, "You're a chicken, Chicken Leg."

For some reason Chicken Leg waited until the merry-go-round was spinning again before he mustered up the courage to reach in there. For a split-second I thought perhaps I should stop him, but I was too curious. He got most of his arm down in there, then suddenly he screamed and yanked it back out. His finger was bleeding.



Big kids came and stopped the merry-go-round for us, and a teacher picked up Chicken Leg and carried him away. He was gone the rest of the day, but he was back again the next day just fine, only his finger was wrapped in gauze.

Chicken Leg didn't hold that against me at all, but I really felt like he should have, and I was eaten up with guilt. I realized that day if I wanted to have someone else be a guinea pig for my amusement and curiosity, I'd pick the mean kids in class.


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Jan. 6th, 2010

Random Facts



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That's just rude when Lowe's builds a new store right across the street from Home Depot.  Rude, and waiting nearby like a bully for the other to fold.

It's also really unimaginative. If Lowe's wants to steal customers from Home Depot, they could open a store a mile away but hand out free tools and hotdogs and kittens and shit like that. People also seem really fond of taking their dogs into these places, so the new store should probably have a BUY TWO LAWNMOWERS GET A FREE NEUTERING coupon...which could later also be applied to the free kittens.

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It's hard for me to accept that obnoxiousness is rewarded with tons o' money...
I'd like to roll the inventor of the Snuggie head to toe in 10 layers of Snuggie, decorate him with Crocs, dunk him in Vitamin water, dangle him like a pinata, and have the Sham-Wow guy beat him senseless. I'd drag OxyClean into this if the feller was alive to defend himself, which I'm sure he'd do at the top of his lungs...

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I hate picking things to wear each day. I hate buying new clothes to replace the old clothes. I hate my clothes becoming tight and loose depending upon how in love with pizza I am that month. I hate being looked up and down by a blonde/bejeweled/manicured/designer/tanned yuppie mom at the post office.

This is why I'd like to make up a durable, neutral colored uniform for myself, sew seven identical copies of it, and then just put that same thing on every day. I suppose I could spruce them up now and then with optional patches and medals for my moods and accomplishments. I'd have an "I didn't say the F-word all week" patch I could never wear, for sure.

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Jan. 5th, 2010

A Great Day



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I heard that for Christmas someone gave their kids a couple giant furniture cardboard boxes and a bunch of markers. They cut out windows and drew all over them, making a cool little playhouse together. That's the most practical and coolest present (and time spent together) EVER!!



It reminded me of how we used to get up on a Saturday morning and comb the alleys for good cardboard to go sliding down the hills of dead grass along the highway. Jackpot was finding a fridge box behind the furniture store. This meant an individual ride for every cousin, but it also meant at least one really big piece for multiple riders---a really bad idea. Cardboard bobsleds travel lightning fast and almost always throw everyone out halfway down.



My sister in action...


There was always a point you hit a bump, lost your cardboard, and went tumbling on down the hill---and it was likely you smashed into several other rolling bodies on the way down. But no one was ever really hurt. We were very durable.





When people ask if I've ever been sledding/skiing/snowboarding, I have to say no, but I have surfed a lot of dead grass and eaten a lot of dirt on the way down.

I'd like to have a day like this again soon.


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Dec. 19th, 2009

In a Pouch



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Can't stop looking at my delicious nephew in a dad-pouch:


 


So jolly.


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Dec. 17th, 2009

Feeling Sorry for Inanimate Objects






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I have an address book that is falling apart, but I feel too sorry for it to throw it away. If you hold on to one long enough and are too irresponsible to actually WRITE THE ADDRESSES ON THE PAGES OF THE BOOK, the address book loses its real identity and becomes more of a scrapbook. Mine is full of envelope flaps and post-its and things that I stuck in between pages. Like the paper heart my husband made and left on my desk to ask me on the first date:
 

 


And Acorn-the-dog's "special" ribbon she got for Christmas one year:

 



And the sign that used to be on our front door warning people to be aware of my cat who liked to sneak out:


 


By the way, this sign was still hanging up for a couple years after he passed away, and I really hated to take it down. Just like seven or eight people in my address book are actually dead, but it would be weird to start a new address book and exclude them from it, as it's so final. I like to think if my address book still has the dead people, there's a slim and magical chance I can go knock on their doors, and they will answer.

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Dec. 15th, 2009

Holiday Always in Jeopardy

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One day I didn't feel well and stayed in bed in front of the tv, and I flipped between two channels showing Christmas shows round the clock. Over the course of the day, the following people/animal/objects saved Christmas:

Patrick Swayze
Dolly Parton (as an angel)
Dolly Parton (as a country singer)
A dog
Another dog
A litter of puppies
A kid
Another kid
A tree
An elf





That's just one afternoon of Hallmark & Family channel...And although I haven't seen them, I'm pretty sure Ernest, Elmo, bears, and various other dogs and kids and your mom have saved it too.

And then if Christmas isn't being "saved," the other theme is that Santa Claus is in danger of being swindled, kidnapped, replaced, delayed, shut-down, retiring, dying, not having an heir, needing a wife, jack-knifing the sleigh, getting too skinny, being bored, getting lost, and no longer having any fans. Why can't Santa have a simple problem that isn't job/life-threatening?




Kids shouldn't have to worry about Santa's cholesterol or that he doesn't wear a seatbelt. And although I appreciate her effort, kids shouldn't find out Santa's hot daughter is running the North Pole because the real Santa's secretly been dead for the last 10 years. I don't want it revealed that Santa is a robot or that he has an alcoholic brother or that deep down he really hates his gig.





I rate Santa jeopardy and nearly-cancelled Christmases up there with that soothing holiday classic song, "Please Daddy, don't get drunk this Christmas." Sorry, kids.

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Nov. 30th, 2009

Secret


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Today there was an old couple at the post office counter filling out paperwork for passports. The clerk said, "These passports will be good for 10 years."

The old man said, "Won't be around in 10 years."

The clerk said, "Of course we will."

The old man said, "No, I don't think I will be around in 10 years, and if I am, I sure as hell won't be up for traveling."

After the clerk giggled awkwardly and walked away, the wife smacked him on the arm, "Quit joking about being dead in 10 years. People don't want to hear that."

The old man said, "Oops, I didn't know it was a secret that we're old."

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Nov. 26th, 2009

Going Home


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Driving back to Texas tomorrow.



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Nov. 18th, 2009

Another old picture


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My step-brother sent another old photo I've never seen. I'm on the left, then sisters, then step-brothers. This is from the famous "I've Got A Bubble-Gum Cigar Proudly Placed in my Breast Pocket" photo series. I quite possibly cut my own bangs too.




Btw, "breast pocket" is really an ugly little term, isn't it? It sounds like something I could possibly look forward to in old age.

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