Life recently published some never before seen pictures of Steve McQueen. Here’s my favorite from the set:
I am trying to create a Rhapsody playlist of the albums he has spread out on the floor. The only ones that I can clearly make out are Miles Davis: Kind of Blue and Sinatra and Basie: An Historic Musical First. Can you help?
Here’s the playlist so far: 
Share Steve McQueen’s Album Collection
Had another odd, vibrant dream. Dreamt I was a male gangster involved in a bank heist. Left my henchman in the dust as I sped away in the getaway car. Felt no guilt or remorse. Went into hiding and disguised myself as a Bettie Page-type, just broader and muscular. I could feel the authorities closing in but I refused to give up. I went out in a blaze of glory.
I had such a weird dream last night. Pookie Bear and I went to my prom. I wore a royal blue gown. I also found out my mother had her legs amputated but she kept her spirits high by joining a dance class and shuffling along on her hands.
I’ve spent the evening getting my tax stuff together. My mind is ready to shut down.
I wonder if there just aren’t enough hours in the day or I am just wasteful with time and slow?
The sun is shining and there’s not a single cloud in the sky. There’s a part of me that feels like I am rousing from a long deep slumber. There’s another part of me that wants to go back to sleep.
When the sun starts hanging out longer and spring seems on her way, I find my musical choices begin to change. And it’s not just me. DJs start playing different music too. The Velvet Underground seems to be springtime music because I’ve heard Sweet Jane four times in the last two days. I start queuing up the Monkees, Serge Gainsbourg, Rod Stewart and other artists I don’t usually listen to when I am freezing my butt off.
What do you consider to be spring/summertime music?
Daylight savings has kicked my butt. And I am letting her! It’s not just I’m an hour off… for some reason I am experiencing insomnia and I am waking up even later than usual which is amplified by the time change. It’s hard to complain when it was so nice walking into kickboxing yesterday at 7:00 and it not being pitch black out. But I will complain anyway. I can’t sleep and then I can’t wake up! And tomorrow is my early day in which I wake up at 5:30 and I have no idea how that is going to happen. But maybe it’s a good thing. I haven’t been able to will myself out of bed earlier because I have nothing pressing going on. Tomorrow I must wake up! And maybe that will snap me back into a healthy cycle. My fingers are crossed!!!
So anyone else out there used to listen to Phranc the all American Jewish lesbian folksinger? I was introduced to her back in college. I got such a kick out of her one album of folksongs. Her subsequent albums didn’t do much for me probably because she really catered to a niche I didn’t fit. But I got to thinking about her just now, probably because I was thinking of Lady Gaga and her desire to prove she isn’t a man and I thought I’d see what old Phranc was up to and I found out…. she sells tupperware. Really.
Crotch shots, mass murder and product placement. Â Yes, I was lured to watch the new Lady Gaga and Beyonce video. Â It reminded me of this skit from Kids in the Hall:
“Tasteful use of crotch shots.”
Yesterday I had Mom, Lisa, Audra, and Pookie Bear’s sister and nephew over to do Pysanky. The weather was rough and the electricity went out but it didn’t matter. We don’t need electricity doing Pysanky! (actually it’s nice to have when removing the wax but we improvised). I told Joan and John about how Pysanky teaches you patience and the temporal quality of life… there’s always a chance you might drop the egg after you’ve spent many hours decorating it. AND THEN I DROPPED MY BEAUTIFUL EGG! I wanted to cry but I stayed calm.
Here are some other eggs I worked on yesterday– they are in various stages of progress.
The problem is I don’t do it for an entire year and so I start off pretty rusty and then I get better with each egg… just in time for Easter to come and go. And then I put the supplies away until next year.
Which reminds me, have you heard about the new CHOCOLATE COVERED PEEPS? When I first heard about them I was intrigued to no end! I could just imagine the sparkly yellow sugar-covered peep drenched in chocolate… I had to experience it! Yesterday I went to ACME to buy Keilbasa and I spied the new Peeps in the Easter aisle. I grabbed one and out in the car I ripped the packaging open like a crack addict* opens up a new pipe and bit the chick’s chocoate head right off. Guess what? It’s NOT a chocolate covered Peep. It’s just a Mallo Cup. There was no sparkly yellow sugar. The marshmallow inside was just filling. And it wasn’t even white! It was yellow! Which kinda reminded me of a Cadbury Creme Egg. I was terribly disappointed. Still it’s worth experiencing for the novelty.
NOTE: I have no idea how Crack works and I just assumed they use a pipe. Â If I am wrong and it’s sniffed or shot, forgive me.
I try to tell myself that not all Europeans are assholes but they are slowly, one by one, proving me wrong. Thursday night I went to a fancy soirée. Yes, I was invited. There was a man also in attendance whom I had met a few days prior. We got to talking and I asked him where he was from since he spoke in a thick accent.
“The Ukraine.”
“Where in the Ukraine?” I inquired.
“You’ve never been there, you wouldn’t know.”
“You can’t say that… I’ve been to Bratislava and Humenné and KoÅ¡ice which aren’t that f…”
He interrupted me.
“Yeah and I’ve been to Italy!”
I smiled and said, “It’s been nice talking to you” and I walked away.
He freaked me out because I started to worry that my geography was all messed up. Slovakia is right next to the Ukraine, right? Could I be totally off? I checked Google Maps and they are neighbors. So it isn’t weird that I mentioned those cities trying to show him that I was interested in where he lived because I had been near that vicinity before in my life. Maybe his own geography was off and he thought these places were somewhere in Italy? At any rate, I never learn. I try to be nice and it always bites me in the butt. This is how I wish the conversation went:
“Hello Donna, it is me, Stanislav, you remember me from other day?”
“Yes, go to hell.”