Artful Scheme of Happiness

Bus Tales
turns out the Magnolia bus isn't so boring after all

OK, I wrote this post a few days ago but haven't been able to tweak it to make it funny. And now I'm home sick, on my deathbed for all we know, so I thought I should just post it in case it's the last thing anyone ever hears from me. This actually happened. How do these things happen?

The other day, every single person I sat next to on the bus was colossally drunk. I don't know why these people choose to sit next to me, or why they're bombed during the day, or even where they're coming from. But they're generally chatty, and one, a portly fellow named Raymond, had a good story.

Turns out Raymond, who was wearing a highly unfashionable red beret, had no interest whatsoever in sex when he was a youth. So when he turned 21, Raymond's boss took him to the Mustang Ranch and bought him four women. Luckily for everyone on the bus, all Raymond said about the experience was, "they did me justice."

posted by art @ 2:04 PM

Binge Drinking
wherein I admit that I have a problem

I made corned beef hash last night so I could get rid of a bunch of leftovers, and threw half a can of Guinness in for flavor. (I had all this beer left over from my housewarming party, you see. I've given up trying to foist cases of it off onto my friends. They don't seem to want it any more than I do.) Then I drank the other HALF a can, which you wouldn't think would be the most irresponsible thing a person could do. But the thing is, I got totally drunk on this half-can of beer. I forgot to take out the garbage for the entire complex (March is my month for garbage duty), sent several drunken and probably frightening text messages to my boyfriend, passed out, and then this morning I overslept two hours. All because I had half a beer WITH DINNER.

Doesn't that seem strange to you? I mean, I admit I'm not much of a beer drinker. But still. If I hadn't made my own food, I'd be scared that someone slipped me something. Anyway, now that I have admitted my problem, I am back trying to find a home for eight cans of Guinness.

posted by art @ 10:42 AM

Summer, Donna

OK, you can all calm down now. My birthday present from my parents arrived. In the same box as my Valentine's Day present, my St. Patrick's Day present and my Easter present. My mother is nothing if not efficient (late on half the holidays, early on the other half!).

I got some old-time movies which my father promptly informed me were a re-gift. I guess my parents didn't like the door prizes at the Oscars party they attended, so I ended up with them. Hurray! I can't wait to turn them around ... and how funny, my father is next on the list for birthdays! I hope he's not reading this!

posted by art @ 10:15 AM

Living on a prayer!!!

According to my brother, today I am "halfway there." Halfway to dead. Hurray!!

Rock on!

posted by art @ 9:52 AM

Go, North High Spartans!
On towards victory!!
We will stand beside you,
loyal fans we'll always be....

Greeting from 1969! (OK, North wasn't around in 1969, but bear with me.)

It was time for a change. My kitchen is a sort of mustard yellow color and the staircase adjoining it was a hideous blue that bordered on turquoise. The blue was entirely out of place in the house, and an ugly shade of blue to boot. I'm having a party on Saturday, the perfect excuse to get my rear in gear and paint. So....

I painted the staircase adjoining the kitchen a very beautiful (beautiful on the color card, that is) "Boston Fern" green. This staircase leads to my bedroom, which I painted ... I don't know ... some other shade of green. I thought this would all coordinate very well, and it does. If you're a serious Packers (or Oshkosh North High School) fan. I thought the green would be less GREEN and more subtly gray. Less obviously Packers-pride. Nope. Oh no. No way.

And there's more. You see, what I didn't realize is that another name for the mustard yellow of the kitchen is HARVEST GOLD. And another name for Boston Fern is AVOCADO. All of a sudden, I have been transported back to my childhood. (Somebody said, "Thank God your refrigerator isn't wood-paneled!" but it IS, just not with a wood-grain finish.)

I don't know what to do. I need to get everything back on the walls, then get some outside opinions, before I decide to repaint everything. (All this painting has left my right arm functionally useless -- more of a flipper than an arm. How am I supposed to do this again?!?!)

Ay yi yi. Who said gay men were good with color?

Go Pack!!

posted by art @ 7:59 AM