From my trip to National Portrait Gallery

Burpma.

It wasn't the same without you.

Soylent Green is Peeeeeeeeeeeple.

The Washington Post has announced its second Annual Peeps Diorama Contest. All you need is a shoebox and some Peeps. Or, in my case, an enormous box of miniatures piled up for my stopmotion animation flicks and enormous boxes of paper and lace any everything else crafty leftover from the Valentine's Day Party.

I doubt I will do anything else until the contest deadline. I may not eat.

Come and do research, Danny.

I bet these girls did research, too. But quietly....

Hmmmm.

How I feel .... on the inside.

How's it going, cupcake?

The SuperPink Valentine's Day party was a success! Next year I am going to call it Cupcake-a-Ganza.

I made 24 cupcakes--out of yellow cake mix and chocolate duncan hines frosting, using silver heart-shaped tins.

Anne made 24 heart-shaped cookies with those little silver balls on them and made some of them into black-and-whites, too.

Dee brought 12 cupcakes--six chocolate with red frosting hearts and gooooshing amounts of pink frosting and six vanilla with red frosting hearts and goooooshing amounts of white frosting.

Pamela brought 20 cupcakes from Starbucks--big gooey chocolate ones and then white ones with frosting piled superhigh in a perfect souflee-like topping.

That is EIGHTY cupcake-cookies. Not to mention the pink and white plain and peanut m&ms and the giant bowl of Mother's speciallove animal circus cookies:

It would have been more fun if you and W. and A. could have been there, too.

The REAL Valentine's Day actually (actually) sucked. Fortunately, I had lowered my expectations to a sub-terranian level, and thus wasn't too disappointed about it. I ended up buying myself some flowers (pink, of course) and a giant eclair.

I am going to just pretend that the party day was V-Day and not last night.

Popsicle Stick Philosophy

REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESEARCH!!!!!!!!

This is the only picture I can find of that little kid from The Grudge.

Wallis will be listening to us all say this for the rest of our lives, won't she?

Research!!!

What do you need the computer for, sweetie?

Happy Bowl

This is what I eat my ice cream out of. It makes me happy.

Then I Could....

Sometimes, when I'm having a booooooooooring day at work, I daydream about getting a job in Portland, Oregon, where I went to school.

I look around at law firm jobs, where I could actually (actually) practice water law and then I look at old houses that I could actually (actually) afford if I were able to maintain my law firm job. (Don't you just love this house??)

Then I wonder if I'd have a PDX boyfriend who would go to the salt shaker place with me for breakfast and then go to Saturday Market with me, where I'd buy things made out of rough-hewn wood and get henna tattoos put on my shoulders. Then we'd go to the Alladin movie theater for a cheeseburger and a flick--probably something like Eraserhead. My PDXB grooves on legal justice, some funky PNW bands, riding his bike, and brunch and cheeseburgers. He thinks I'm "quirky," not "weird."

Then I think about hanging out with my friend Stacy and her charming daughter and think we could go to formal tea downtown and then maybe take the kids to the pool and go down the slide a hundred times. Or, we could go to Lloyly for the day and have herbal aromatherapy facial steams and foot soaks and use single-serve portions of lemongrass sea salt body scrub and sip on dandelion tea. Then we'd eat Vietnamese food.

Then I think I could go home to my fireplace and my homemade slippers I bought at the Portland crafters collective where I make crafts with all my PDX crafter girlfriends. I'd get a really awesome sewing machine for $20 at the Goodwill and make little green monsters wearing pink tutus, and I would sell them at the Crafty Wonderland Sale and use the proceeds to go to that spendy Lodge up in Washington where they filmed Twin Peaks.

Maybe I could teach as an adjunct at my law school or at U. of O.

Maybe I could go to San Fran or British Columbia or Washington for little weekend trips.

I could put Marionberry jam on my scones.

Find a good Bikram class.

Go to that special place across the street from Stacy's cousins house in NW a few times a week.

Then I remember the rain.

And it all goes *poof.*

Fancy Baby

If this baby (who has obviously been given large doses of Halcion) had kittens climbing all over her, who would she remind you of?

SuperCrafts! Wheee!

I am going to the DC "Crafts and Kisses" fair on Sunday afternoon.

It will be very exciting, even though none of MY CRAFTS will be featured there. Not that I have enough crafts to sell or that anyone would buy them. The alien-in-the-soap idea from about ten years ago is old news now. And the soap we made smelled like Pine Sol.

Still, there's nothing like making soap and gluing up a Frank Sinatra shrine and watching a Bette Davis flick with your best friend at The Blue House.

I've gone through the list of vendors and checked out some of their products, and I don't think something should be considered "home made" if it consists of just pasting a pin on the back of a little plastic toy and calling it a "broach." Or "brooch." Which is it? [My mom's modified Boston accent (Pepperell, Pepperell, Pepperell) makes in impossible to know the diff. (She can't say "drawer" or "orchestra," either, so I slip up sometimes and say "orkesster." OH... and "Flahridah." She has absolutely NO sense of humor about these things, so NEVER point it out, okay?]