What Would Auntie Mame Do? LIVE LIVE LIVE!

I had to fire a client. He’s a perp, a sexual predator, and I had to get rid of him. I don’t know if he’s gone yet. I will know by Monday or Tuesday. If he’s not 100% gone by then I will involve the police. I feel disgusted and violated and I just want him to go away.

This happened over the course of a few weeks and I just finally got up the guts to tell someone. The shame was intense and debilitating but fairly short-lived once I got it out in the open. I was manipulated, power-played, and molested. And it’s not my fault.

I’m really thankful for my friend, the one who saw there was something wrong and drew this out of me. She didn’t scorn me, or make fun of me, or blame me. She was wonderful.

I’m not going to live in fear, or shame. If I see him Monday or Tuesday I’m not going to be polite. I’m going to be loud and sharp: GET OUT… I’M CALLING 911!

I wouldn’t want anyone to miss Elsa’s Underage Bartender pic! Gorgeous.

I’m watching a video performance of Wild Asparagus at the Avalon in Boulder. Originally I searched it out as a band that occasionally incorporates a bodhran and I wanted to look at different beater techniques. There’s more video of the dancers than of the musicians. Organized, or rather choreographed dancing makes me very uneasy. I remember my dad trying to teach me to waltz. I’m crap. I remember junior high p.e. when they made us learn drill team routines. I got a nosebleed and was allowed to sit out. Every day for a week. Geek stigmata.

Anyway, the memory this really jogged was 6th grade music class. They made us learn square dancing. I dreaded this. I dreaded this because we were forced to pair up, with a boy. There was choice involved. It was kind of kickball style. I shouldn’t have been too worried (I’m usually picked for stuff somewhere in the middle– whew) but I was. Overly worried. I was the same kind of worried when they made us climb the rope in p.e., same kind when they made us swim across the deep end later that year, same as when they made us recite Lincoln’s Gettisburg Address (which I fucked up, but avoided tears till later).

I think about these things and think I must have been a total stress-ball. In some ways, but not always. I kicked ass at wall-ball, four-square, dodgeball, and was KILLER at tetherball, killer. I always won lots of marbles. I could go pretty high at jacks. I wasn’t the tallest or the goofiest; I didn’t have the biggest sixth grade breasts (thank god). The art and music was fantastic. I remember making a filmstrip about Brazil and singing in the select choir. There was enough good.

But my god, the squaredancing, you could never pay me to relive that. Nice to watch now, but man, the sixth grade music class squaredancing? It’s like death in slowmotion.

But cake still makes me smile…

me, Dena, and Suz

Confused? It’s a wacky sky out there…
fogging up the sane, baring the crazy.
Click here to read what ElsaElsa has to say about it.

Boy: I’m going to tell all my friends you tried to piss on my leg
Mama: No try… do.
Boy: Okay Yoda.

Girl: I’m full of gas
Boy: Look what I’m full of (sticks butt out)
Mama: Hemorrhoids?
Boy/Girl: EWWWWW!

National Poop/Butt/Pee Joke Day.

Just Because I stole it from Fodon

1. open your library (iTunes, winamp, media player, iPod)
2. put it on shuffle
3. press play
4. for every question, type the song that’s playing
5. new question– press the next button
6. don’t lie and try to pretend you’re cool

opening credits:
Hold On… Tom Waits

waking up:
Last Year’s Man… Leonard Cohen

first day at school:
Simply Beautiful… Queen Latifah

falling in love:
I Walk the Line… Johnny Cash

breaking up:
How’s It Gonna End… Tom Waits

prom:
She’s No Lady… Lyle Lovitt

life’s okay:
How Deep is the Ocean… Diana Krall

mental breakdown:
I Want You… Marvin Gaye

driving:
Highway Patrolman… Bruce Springsteen

flashback:
Tell Yer Mama… Roger Clyne & the Peacemakers

getting back together:
Cut Flowers… The Smithereens

wedding:
Tickled to Tears… Bash & Pop

birth of child:
Rapsodia… Andrea Bocelli

final battle:
Back in the Day (Puff)… Erykah Badu

death scene:
Hazy Jane… Nick Drake

funeral song:
Big River… Johnny Cash

end credits:
Let’s Get It On… Marvin Gaye

Hi Lisa!

Oh my, when I read Mikael’s email my first thought was, “ahh, I think my best recipe involves the phone number for the Russian restaurant.” Then it was, “do I HAVE ten friends?” Perhaps my internet time would be better spent with a therapist.

I saw Katy Warren last week. We’ve been meaning to get together for about two years. Over coffee we caught up and had a great time. Of course we both had to wonder why we waited so long. In a few years I may be able to complete this ten friends thing. Hmmmm…

Still, I wanted to email you so I’ll give it a shot:

Lara’s New Year Crostini–

1. thinly slice a baguette, drizzle slices with olive oil, lightly salt and pepper, broil till toasty
2. on the stove top, saute apple and pear slices in port
3. top crostini with a small dollop of soft goat cheese and one fruit slice
4. broil briefly until goat cheese is warm
5. repeatedly roll eyes at children when they tell you goat cheese tastes like a wet dog
6. ask children how they know what a wet dog tastes like
7. laugh like a loon
8. consume the rest of the port and surf the internet for cheap overseas vacation rates. for one.

Most of my other recipes involve ketchup.

Love,
Lara

keep it in between the lines
don’t love too much
or too little
off in the weeds
crash and burn

your track
your rules

Nothing to No One
Paul Westerberg

There’s a world in between
Being everything
To everyone
And being nothing
To no one

There’s a world in between
Being everything to everyone
And being nothing
To no one
I am a button to sew on