On second thought, all they needed was a broom.

I made my home here on the floor

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I want a Dyson for my birthday

I just read this in the comments section of Bossy's blog, and it made me laugh harder than I have in a long time.

That's actually kind of sad.


Carperpetuation (kar-pur-pet-you-ay-shun) n.

The act, when vacuuming, of running over a string or a piece of lint at least a dozen times, reaching over and picking it up, examining it, then putting it back down to give the vacuum one more chance.

Wordless Wednesday

(Click for larger image. And also so you can see the frowning.)

Dozens of people spontaneously combust each year. It's just not really widely reported.

I have, I don't know, a fever, some sort of bug, whatever. It hit me just hard enough to excuse an entire afternoon lying on the couch watching Christopher Guest movies. The man is truly, truly a genius. This is Spinal Tap should be in the Smithsonian.

"We've got Armadillos in our trousers. It's really quite frightening."

"No. No. No. I feel it's like, it's more like going, going to a, a national park or something. And there's, you know, they preserve the moose. And that's, that's my childhood up there on stage. That moose, you know."

Nigel: You know, just simple lines intertwining, you know, very much like - I'm really influenced by Mozart and Bach, and it's sort of in between those, really. It's like a Mach piece, really. It's sort of...
Marty: What do you call this?
Nigel: Well, this piece is called "Lick My Love Pump."

and the song I'll be singing for days: Sex Farm
Working on a sex farm, trying to raise some hard love. Getting out my pitch fork, poking your hay.

Rock On. To Eleven.

Memo to: Will Shortz

Re: NY Times Crossword puzzle for Monday, October 22.

1. There is no such thing as clam bisque. Okay, well, maybe there is, but up here in New England we have CRAB bisque and clam chowder. Or Chowdah. It was a very misleading clue, especially for a Monday. Do you know how much crossing out I had to do because the answer should have been CRAB bisque?

2. Little Bo Peep lost her SHEEP. Not her ewe, her ram, and her lamb. HER SHEEP.

Thank you for your attention. Carry on.

Lisa

On Love & Other Difficulties…

“I hold this to be the highest task of a bond between two people: that each should stand guard over the solitude of the other” — Rilke

Why did it take me so long to learn this? It's so simple.

Paris.

I've never been, but I keep dreaming that I'm there. It's where I'd like to be in 18 days or so.

Je suis effrayé de tourner quarante.

I Could Sure Use Some Sunshine On My Apple Trees

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Where are you now
Are you in some hotel room
Does it have a view?
Are you caught in a crowd
Or holding some honey
Who came on to you?
Why do you have to be so jive
O.k. hang up the phone
It hurts
But something survives
Though its undermined
I'd still like to see you sometime

I'm feeling so good
And my friends all tell me
That I'm looking fine
I run in the woods
I spring from the boulders
Like a mama lion
I'm not ready to
Change my name again
But you know I'm not after
A piece of your fortune
And your fame
cause I tasted mine
I'd just like to see you sometime

Pack your suspenders
I'll come meet your plane
No need to surrender
I just want to see you again

We're in for more rain
I could sure use some sunshine on my apple trees
It seems such a shame
We start out so kind and end so heartlessly
I couldn't take them all on then
With a head full of questions and hypes
So when the hopes got so slim
I just resigned
But I'd still like to see you sometime
I'd sure like to see you

Scaring the Crap Out of Myself

Thanks to lots of nice comments from people like I Hope So, and a giant push from my friends, I have finally hung out a shingle.


I don't know what that means, exactly, except that the phone has been ringing a lot and I'm running low on just-one-more-shot-PLEASE lollipops. I'm scared to death. I'm also having fun.

oh and thank God for Photoshop.

Well the leaves have come to turning…

Today is pumpkin day, as family tradition dictates. This will be the first year that Calder and I will be doing this as a duo, and I've been informed by his majesty that I might have to "invite a big man to come because you won't be able to lift the giant pumpkins."

Grrr.

The Internets Are So Cool.

Found this just in time for the weekend. Can you imagine (heh) what it would have been like to be the driver? I think I may be stoned just from watching.

Colorful

Googling

Usually some time after the first of the month, I go to my site stat pages to see if there were any unusual keywords used to find me. Mostly I get the same group; various forms of sunset pig (hyphenated, all one word, quotes, etc.). Sometimes people who might have heard a song or seen a video on the blog go back to try and find it again by keyword-searching the song name or artist. All pretty normal, and pretty expected from a blog with such low traffic as mine. My expectations are humble.

Today, though, I'm a bit puzzled. The following are the keywords that have brought people to me since October 1st:

sunset pig

pigs that I like

who can sing to a pig? (I'd love to know what this person was really looking for)

van gogh crying

van gogh the scream

vincent van gogh

blackness everywhere a little less shine

smoking and your heart (this one is particularly odd as there are thousands of medical pages that come up as hits when this is used as a search term. How the hell do I come into it? {unless someone out there knows my heart is smoking} ;)

and last, but certainly not least:

pig fuckers



Maybe it's time to change the name of my blog?

Just give me one thing that I can hold on to.

This completely unhinged me today.

There has got to be a way through to a different ending.

To believe in this living is just a hard way to go.

Too Bad Jim Wasn't Here…

I love you the best
Better than all the rest.
I love you the best
Better than all the rest.
That I meet in the summer.
Indian summer.
That I meet in the summer.
Indian summer.
I love you the best
Better than all the rest.

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This is Not My Dog.

But, oh, how I hope she won the blue ribbon.

If Today Was a Fish…

…I would throw it back.

In Fields of Red and Autumn Brown

Final harvest.



No, I am not a cat. Stop bugging me.

The Dividing Line

I'm sitting here in my kitchen. It's bright, it's warm. I have tea. Spread in front of me on the table are six or seven mimeographed documents, each of which is supposed to help me understand the mediation-to-final-divorce process. Anatomy of a Divorce Agreement is designed to help me prepare to discuss such issues as Child Support, Spousal Support, Division of Real Estate, and Arrangements for TELEPHONE ACCESS TO MY CHILD. The Hell?

The Confidential Mediation Questionnaire starts out easily enough; questions answered by fact: marriage date, how many children, date of separation. Then it gets tricky. Who wants the divorce? Is there any interest in reconciliation? Describe your present communication with your spouse. And finally, it asks me to describe my ideal resolution of this case. IDEAL resolution? Just the words make me want to scream. There is no ideal resolution. There's only shit, and the hope that the pile I have to step in isn't too large.

Also for my reading pleasure: A Sample Timeline for Complaint for Divorce. In other words, don't hold your breath, sister, you're 20,367th on the docket. A List of Therapists. Flyers for Divorcing Parent Seminars and Parent Education Programs. A handy map to the local courthouse!

The bulk of the paperwork, however, is the Commonwealth of Massachusetts Trial Court, Probate and Family Court Department Financial Statement — Long Form. Long Form, because we've been fortunate enough over the years to have made enough money to qualify for the Super-Sized ass-fucking. Since I have been without income for slightly over four years, this document remains terrifyingly blank for me. BLANK. It doesn't matter how hard I'm working right now to remedy the situation; give up my stay-at-home status, find a job, find daycare, change Calder's school — the fact is, I am completely financially dependent upon a person who doesn't like me very much. It's a scenario I never ever believed I would be in. In marriage, there’s the cold but also cozy belief that after a while there’d be no "me" left — only me chemically amalgamated with another. We'd take care of each other. Now, sitting here, at this kitchen table, which I may or may not get to keep, I can only wonder how I'm going to get through this.