R.I.P DAISEY THE BOY...A SHORT STORY.

7/14/09

2007-2009

yes.
we loved this little rodent.​.​.​daisey the boy.

after waffles died we ran straight out
to the pet shop for a new baby hamster 
in hopes to fill the void of her loss.

we saw the baby hamster.
we bought the baby hamster.
we took the baby hamster home.
he was tiny, afraid, and cute.

we then threw a bunch of names in a hat, 
gambling on what we should call it.

out came the paper.
"daisey" would be its new name.

after checking out a book on hamsters from our local library,
one of the kids discover that daisey is undoubtedly a boy.

thus.​.​.​.​"​daisey the boy."

he grew and developed somewhat of a personality.

he was always curious of the 'outside' world.​.​.​running to the bars
of his cage, grasping them and looking out at whomever would enter the laundry room.

he loved taking rides on whiskers back as well (our cat), and whiskers
took on a sweet kinship with him.

so now as he joins tico, waffles, and houdini in hamster heaven,
i can only ponder on how we can grow attached to something so small.
sometimes its the little things in life that really have an impact....

houdini

waffles

I WAS AN EXTRA

10/24/06

HOME OF THE BRAVE

STARRING:

SAMUEL L. JACKSON

JESSICA BEAL

50 CENT

CHRISTINA RICCI

BRIAN ?? (SOAP BOY)

Now first of all, I realize how much of a nobody I am in the light of these actors (mere rubbish...wall paper if you may). But you MIGHT see me if you pull out your magnifying glasses watching with undivided concentration (if the scenes haven't been deleted).

O.K. So... I'm walking into a bar/lounge (in a brown,furry, knee length vintage coat talking with some friends. Christina Ricci and Brian come out of the bar (lighting up cigs.) We pass as I proceed to catch the door they've just walked through!

Other scenes were: sitting in a corner booth in the bar with a friend having an Italian meal with wine....chatting of course. Or should I say 'mimicking conversation'
(I hadn't realized how hard that really was AND not clanking the glasses and silverware!)....walking in front of the cinemas....and driving ol' Nelly (our '93 voyager) past the cinemas entrance.

All the extras didn't have one dull moment and it was a very long evening and night....
Some may say 'Big Whoop?' but like I've said before..."You only live once soo you might as well go for it and do something you wouldn't normally do."
I'm too embarrassed to say how much I was paid. Let's just say that It angers me to think about sweatshops. 

I had a great experience though learning about the film biz.

**ps-May I 'pre-apologize' if I look like a complete idiot??

PARTY LIKE IT'S 1999

1/1/08

As i sit here thinking about the new year and what new things I want to do with my life, I can't seem to get Prince's son 1999 outta my head. It's been embedded there a couple days now.

If you at all were a product of the 80's you might remember yourself jamming, singing, or dancing to this sweet tune (as well as the infamous purple rain, let's go crazy, when doves cry. Good times. Brilliant musician that Prince is!)

I remember thinking about the lyrics while singing them in Jr. High...

"2000 ZERO. ZERO. PARTY OVER. OOPS. OUT OF TIME. TONIGHT I'M GONNA PARTY LIKE IT'S 1999."

WOAH... like. 1999 seemed SO far away! SO futuristic. I wondered what I'd be doing in 1999. What the styles would be.

Yes. A lot of things have evolved and changed in many areas of our culture and world. Of course no flying cars like the Jetson's drove. No wild Twilight Zone scenarios.  

Well, 1999 came and left and here we still are in 2008, WAY after the millennium.

Did I party like it was 2008?

Uh...I don't know.

I guess.

Went out.

Listened to some great latin music.

Snapped some shots.

Had a clove with my buddy.

Went home in time to watch the ball drop in NYC, listening to Lenny Kravitz sing a song while eating mousse tracks icecream.

I enjoyed it. Hope you did too.

Happy 2008 everyone and the Best to you in this new year!!

HO HO HO.... OR HA HA HA?

12/12/07

We drive toward town in the snow to do a few errands while listening to our Charlie Brown Peanuts Christmas soundtrack. Good times.

We pass by a thin rail Santa standing on a corner holding a small pine tree.

'Riah makes a statement:

"I heard on the news that they're trying to make it where Santa has to be 'FIT' and he can't say HOHOHO but HAHAHA!"

"WHAT!?" I exclaim.

'Riah:  "Yeah, they're saying Santa's representing bad health and that his laugh 'HoHoHo' is a disrespect to women, so they're tying to change things."

"THAT'S JUST SICK AND WRONG" I say in disgust. "Man, I grew up on a FAT Santa with a belly like a bowl full of jelly and his jolly infectious laugh of HOHOHO's warming your insides."

It just isn't right seeing a kid sitting on a thin, lean Santa that belts out a "HAHAHA!"

Just isn't right politically, morally, emotionally, or what ever 'ally' one can think of.

Anyhow, last week we had taken a family poll of what we should leave out for Santa on Christmas Eve this year.

Some got a little creative. Some ideas may help make a thicker St. Nick slip down the chimney a little quicker, while some should keep him trim but not sickly.

LIST OF SNACKS FOR SANTA:

1. SALAD & WATER.

2. FRENCH BREAD & HUMMUS.

3. BOWL OF ALL PLAIN GREEN M&M'S FOR THE SANTA WHO WANTS THINGS A 'CERTAIN WAY.'

4. VODKA, STOGIES, AND A SEVERED TOE.

5. SNICKERS & A DIET PEPSI.

6. ONE WHOLE PIZZA WITH THE WORKS.

7. A COSMO & A PACK OF CLOVES.

8. GLASS OF CHOCOLATE SLIMFAST SHAKE WITH A POWER BAR.

9. FLAXSEED OIL & A COPY OF THE FAT FLUSH PLAN.

10. SUSHI.

THE MOST VALUABLE PIECE I OWN

by Bella (age 3)

"ALL CHILDREN ARE ARTISTS. THE PROBLEM IS HOW TO REMAIN AN ARTIST ONCE HE GROWS UP." - Picasso

THE MOST FUNCTIONAL ENGLISH WORD

THE MOST FUNCTIONAL ENGLISH WORD


Well, it's SHIT ... that's right, shit!

Shit may just be the most functional word in the English language.

You can smoke shit, buy shit, sell shit, lose shit, find shit, forget shit, and tell others to eat shit.

Some people know their shit, while others can't tell the difference between shit and shineola.

There are lucky shits, dumb shits, and crazy shits. There is bull shit, horse shit, and chicken shit.

You can throw shit, sling shit, catch shit, shoot the shit, or duck when the shit hits the fan.

You can give a shit or serve shit on a shingle.

You can find yourself in deep shit or be happier than a pig in shit.

Some days are colder than shit, some days are hotter than shit, and some days are just plain shitty.

Some music sounds like shit, things can look like shit, and there are times when you feel like shit.

You can have too much shit, not enough shit, the right shit, the wrong shit or a lot of weird shit.

You can carry shit, have a mountain of shit, or find yourself up shit creek without a paddle.

Sometimes everything you touch turns to shit and other times you fall in a bucket of shit and come out smelling like a rose.

When you stop to consider all the facts, it's the basic building block of the English language.

And remember, once you know your shit, you don't need to know anything else!!

You could pass this along, if you give a shit; or not do so if you don't give a shit!

Well, Shit, it's time for me to go. Just wanted you to know that I do give a shit and hope you had a nice day, without a bunch of shit. But, if you happened to catch a load of shit from some shit-head..........

Well, Shit Happens!!!


ps- sorry, no visuals for this one.

FELINE BEHIND THE VEIL

4/17/07

This morning as I was doing laundry. 

Whiskers (our orange tabby of 49 years...that is....feline years) nonchalantly passes me by, weaving in and out of the obstacle course of clothing piles on the floor appearing to have somewhat of a 'zombie' look to her eyes.

Her destination? Behind the large, black curtain veil. To the land of plenty...
The Food Dish.

In my mind I thought, "weren't you just here a few minutes ago!??". Geeze. You can't be hungry AGAIN, can you?

Was I jumping to conclusions?
Maybe she's just using the restroom.
I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt.

SILENCE...

Only a moment later do I hear the 'clankity, clank, clank' of metal tags on a metal dish. Yep. I knew it. She had nothing more exciting to do (not even sleep) in her life at that moment than to eat. A few minutes later, she exits from behind the 'veil', licking residue of salmon and tuna from her guilty chops.

'Whiskers, what are you doing?", I ask as if expecting an answer. Just a gratified stare. My eyes dart to the back side of her physique. What seemingly use to be slender has significantly grown. Yes, seems though there is more junk in the kitteh trunk.

Whiskers has a problem and it's larger than I had ever realized.

She has been comfort eating. COMFORT EATING!?

Ai Dios...how did that come to be? Was she upset about something? How long has she been practicing this behavior? Were we not paying enough attention to her lately? Are we blind?! I had reminded the kids ('specially #4) NOT to fill her bowl to the rim. I could do nothing but blame myself. I had not seen the warning signs.
I was a bad catmom.

For the remainder of the day, until I went to bed, I counted the number of times I heard her clanking around. It was 7 times. Including the last one when she rubbed against my leg begging for more.

Needless to say, I've put the kitty chow up on the top shelf and under strict rule. But the thing that I learned is we all (including pets) can eat out of boredom.

God help us all.

"A WEED OR NOT A WEED. THAT IS THE QUESTION."

6/24/07

I am washing dishes.

Through the window I notice an odd sight that keeps my attention.

Perched tall like little soldiers in the gravel and sprouting alongside the curb, stand weeds with a peculiar confidence and pretty yellow blooms.

I'm in awe for a few moments at the sight.

No one had planted the seeds, yet they had sprouted up out of nowhere.

I thought, 'If there's ever been anything misunderstood in nature, it must have been the unwanted, tenacious, stubborn, annoying weed.'

I then went on a small weed hunt in which I didn't have to go far.

There were a couple of questions that came to mind. (humor me):

*When was the very first record of the weed and who called it that?
hmm...

*Who labeled the weed a nuisance?

Maybe grass is the real plague, yet we choose to keep it.

*Why do weeds bloom fetching yellow, white, even purple flowers?
It must be a decoy or defense mechanism so we wont uproot it. (how clever a plant).

I think I may have understood them for just a moment.

I have to say though, whenever I see a dandelion, there is an uncontrollable urge to pick it and blow........