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July 8, 2009 - Wednesday

I'll say this, and then I'm done.
Category: Movies, TV, Celebrities

I just woke up, so pardon me if this is a little rambling.....

Can we get the picture of Michael Jackson's weeping kid off the front of Yahoo News now? I open my browser and that's all I've seen for 24 hours. It's bad enough those kids are NEVER going to understand normal. MUST the media further exploit their pain and loss? REALLY? It wasn't bad enough that "fans" were EXCITED to receive tickets to what equates to a funeral. That's sick enough, and a HUGE wake-up call on how celebrity worship has gotten way out of hand. Now we have to be bombarded with this crying, weeping little girl. For Michael Jackson. Yes, she lost her Daddy.

At her age, I thought MY dad was a "great dad" too because I was too little to KNOW any better. It makes sense the kids are upset. They lost a father. WHO's idea was it to let her get on that mic? WHO decided it would be GOOD FOR HER to publicly mourn? As if to say to the world, or people like me,
"See? She's crying for him. He MUST have been a GREAT MAN, or a GREAT DADDY for his kid to be this upset....."

Of course she's upset. But did they have to shove her in the eyes of the world and SHOW US?

MILLIONS of kids lose a parent daily. Should we now video tape children who hear that Daddy was killed in the war, and plaster those kids on the news daily? How would you react to THAT? How many times would you see that before you would say, "Oh they're exploiting children."

I saw a documentary once called "Telling Nicholas". His mother died in the Twin Towers on 9/11. When the time came to tell this little boy that his mother was never coming home --- they hadn't told him right away. He was very little.... The cameras were on the father, but at the backs of the father and son. You could hear audio. It was GUT WRENCHING. And at the time the nation was engulfed in mourning. And it should have been. But even then I thought perhaps that this particular moment was just too private of a thing for the world to see. When does society's curiosity over morbid events turn from curious to vulgar? I believe we've crossed that line.

Enough already.

Damnit, ENOUGH already.

I'll repeat again that I'm GLAD our cable is out. I've only had to deal with the internet bombardment of this whole thing.

I've gotten in heated debates over Michael Jackson over the last week with people and I've found it is JUST as volatile a subject as politics and religion when two people don't see eye to eye.

I'll say these few last points and then I'm done.

"Oh if he were REALLY guilty, no parent would take that money. They'd have taken it to court and PROVED he was guilty."

Really?
REALLY?
Take your average income family who thinks their kid just got to meet a "hero". Now add in the molestation. NOW add in the pain their kid would go through with a trial. Knowing their child would have to be the one on trial. ANYONE who knows ANYTHING about molestation and abuse trials knows that's how it works. Imagine your child, on the stand, having to explain to a room full of people what was done to them.
Imagine how HORRID you would feel as a parent that you LET YOUR KID GO to that guy's house, where the hind sight would be so BLINDING that you shouldn't have you'd feel like the single WORST parent in the world. And YOU might have to explain why you LET THEM GO in the first place.

Would you really, HONESTLY, put yourself and your KID through THAT pain, or if twenty million dollars was shoved at you would you take the money and hope that the news of the possibility of this man being a molester would be enough to shine the light on a pedophile and save your own child from the embarrassment, the shame, the pain, and the act of reliving the event through words?

It might suck, but it's more realistic to me than someone who's innocent paying people to just shut up.

We had an Uncle - a brother of my Grandmother's -- who was a KNOWN child molester. He damaged multiple kids in the family. Guess what? He never served a day. He showed up at those family reunions until the day he died. People turned away from a truth that was sickening and too painful to choke down and just started "keepin the little ones away" from him, but not one trial was ever had. Not one conviction ever made. And there wasn't $20,000 million at stake.

People get away with bad things because some bad things are too horrific to face. I'm willing to bet, through the course of what people have shared with on here to me, that several of you have Uncle Jim's in YOUR family, and they never served a day in prison. They were never convicted of anything.
Does that mean they're innocent?

Nope.

So you can repeat how "No parent would take the money unless Jackson was innocent and they were trying to blackmail him. A parent would FIGHT to get a molester behind bars...." and I'll say: BULLSHIT. People have a hard enough time convicting your average child molester who doesn't have BILLIONS of dollars in the bank and BILLIONS of fans who want to turn a blind eye to it just because a man could sing and dance.

I've heard people say how wonderful it is that Jackson's mother is keeping his kids.

Hmmmm..... let's see the track record of the Jackson family and debate on whether or not those kids should be with them......

HOW MANY NUT JOBS can one family raise before you MIGHT think that perhaps NO MORE KIDS should be TRUSTED IN THEIR CARE???

I read a recent article where Jackson himself was quoted as saying "No child should be without a mother's love....." ...... and he paid off the mother of his own children. Denying them relations WITH THEIR MOTHERS. Hypocritical, maybe?? MJ himself spoke out against how abusive his own father was. How he'd often VOMIT at the sight of his own father.

So yes, please, give those three kids to them. Because they haven't had any. single. bit. of. normal. since the day they were born. Let's abuse and warp them further.

I am sickened at the women who birthed those children. If THEY could settle with Michael Jackson to SELL THEIR KIDS, it's not logical the he could buy off the parents of the kids he molested?

And now people are crying out for a stamp, and a national holiday for the man?

ARE YOU PEOPLE FUCKING BLIND?

We can agree to disagree on this topic. You can try to negate or debate anything I've said here. This is the last time I'll bring it up. But as someone who has viewed what crimes against children can do to a family, I take this shit personally. It DOES effect me. I AM involved.

I see a nation standing behind a man who was so duplicitous in nature that less than two weeks ago he was the punchline to a thousand jokes. NO ONE -- NOT ONE OF YOU -- would've said, "Yeah, I'll let my kid hang out at the Neverland Ranch" and now you're weeping for the man. Or talking about the music. And how it shaped your childhood or your teen years.

NO ONE loves their nostalgia more than I do. I talk about that shit all the time. I talk about the MUSIC of my youth and the effect it has on me. I get that. But there has to be a time when someone's crimes mean more than how hard you fucking tried to Moonwalk or how many times you listened to "Thriller" when you were 12.

There has to come a time when RIGHT takes over everything else.

Damnit.

11:04 AM

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July 7, 2009 - Tuesday

A slave to my obsessions -- Pictures of my latest creation.....
Category: Art and Photography

I was in the mood yesterday to break away from the bears and the penguins and the snowmen and the usual Christmas stuff. I'm not sure what this guy is, but I know I like him.

Here's a back view.

I tried a closeup of his face to get the detail of the ear ring better but the lighting in my kitchen was all wonked out last night. Or *I* was wonked out. ha!

I took a close up of the rocks after I made them, too. It's weird.
I fixate on little things.
When I made the Reunion Sculpture, the rocks were a last minute addition. Once I made them I was fascinated at how much this clay can LOOK like little stones and pebbles and whatnot.

This is the only rock close up that came out.

The base before I started putting the "thing" on it.

The kids thought I was making some strange cookie.

He took me most of the day. I worked on him off and on. I've been in this mood to just DO THINGS. I'm not getting the hours at Taco Bell I need. Comedy is slow. Just sitting around is NOT an option. When it's too hot, my plate gets all heated and I get miserable so outside stuff isn't an option either. Gotta find SOMETHING to do.

When he was all done Yeti said, "Wait a minute. He has a bald spot, a goatee, and an ear ring. Is that supposed to be ME?" Ha!

Yeti took his ear ring out YEARS ago.

The eyes are plastic and the "crystal" is a marble. His ear ring is wound wire and the base started as a circle of wood. Other than that, everything is clay. Eventually he'll end up in the gallery on the Critter's page. I just haven't decided how much I'm selling him for just yet.

As always, Thanks for lookin'!

12:11 PM

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July 6, 2009 - Monday

What would you choose?
Category: Goals, Plans, Hopes

I liken moments like I'm having right now to a breast exam for my brain.

You know, feeling around in there for dark and evil black lumps that could easily suck the life out of a person if they went unchecked.

I'm sure for some of you this is going to be repetitive and boring. Katrina Redux again. I apologize for that. Right now, things are financially at THE MOST FRIGHTENING for us than they've EVER been, and sometimes I find myself focusing on the things I CAN control.

Right now, (here's the repeat) it's my weight.

I am my own worst enemy. We've discussed this. I'll get to a point where I can physically see a BIG DIFFERENCE in myself, where I can physically FEEL a different version of myself emerging and then..... I back off. I slip up. I fail.

Its a vicious cycle that has been going on the majority of my life, but never so clear to me as in this past year.

If you had to choose between self imposed destruction or fear, which would you choose? What path would you walk on and be willing to live with?

I fear being thin. I fear being attractive. So many evils and bad elements of my life took place when I turned heads. When men noticed me.

I am totally honest in saying that in the past 10 years, there have only been a handful of times when someone crossed a line and ACTUALLY "came on" to me. I could count with one hand and have fingers left. And, I'm okay with that. I don't need the world's adoration. I have Yeti for that. I'm not so needy that I feel the need to make every man fall at my feet and worship me. Those years are long past and dead now.

I think a part of me feels stronger when I'm bigger because of bad things that happened to me when I was smaller. I'm only 5'3". If I'm that short and BIG, I'm like a tank no one can attack or penetrate. I get too "tiny" and I look weak. Easily overtaken. You can argue that I put forth a strong personality but it didn't help me in my 20's. I still got hurt. I mean physically hurt. Harmed by others.

That can sound like a logical reason to maintain a nice, cellulite riddled coat of armor to shield myself against the world, but its just an excuse.

Reasons and excuses are not interchangeable.

Rape. Assault. They aren't about attraction or how sexy a woman dressed while she was at a bar. Those types of crimes are about POWER. And if I look like I can't be overpowered? I'm safe.

That's how my warped and twisted mind works, and I am well aware I'm not the only woman to feel this way.

I travel a lot. A lot of the times I travel alone. I'm safe about it. I only stop at "Rest Areas" in daylight. If I'm on the road and I have to pee and it's dark outside, I find a well lit busy area with lots of people to pull over. I keep my keys in my hand with the biggest key pointed "out" between my knuckles in case someone would decide to get froggy. I could take out an eye with that sucker.

But how much sense does it REALLY make to "protect" myself against some horrific statistical happening that might not even happen by endangering my heart? my health?

I've got events in my past that have the "Statistically one in three women will experience a sexual assault in her lifetime....." covered. Chances of it happening again? Don't know.

Heart attack and high BP and diabetes and other illnesses if my weight doesn't get into check? An almost CERTAINTY.

My goal for July is to lose 10 more pounds. Doing that is going to put me in a weight bracket I haven't seen in the better part of 8 years (or more).

I have GOT TO get past the mental road blocks that keep me from this. I have GOT TO get OVER past experiences that make me afraid of ..... hell, of people.

I know me.

If I ruin this for myself, there will never be self forgiveness.

I pick fear over self destruction.

That is my choice.

4:10 PM

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July 5, 2009 - Sunday

Our Glorious 4th of July in Pictures

I'll start with one last photo of the sculpture, glazed off and ready to be raffled off....

Uncle Tom won this yesterday. I can't say that I "fixed" it in honor of Aunt Mary "letting" me win that lamp back when I was little because Spencer picked the name out of the box and a cousin read the name on the paper. You know, that way I couldn't say out loud what name *I* wanted to win.... I'll just leave it at that. That's ALL I'm sayin'. hee. hee. hee.

The boys woke up rip-rarin' and ready to go.

They could hardly contain themselves. It was, after all, time for the Family Reunion!!

Me and my Mom....

My brother said grace before we ate. He did the "Let's have a moment of silence for those who are not with us....." moment.

I felt Yeti's hand on my back to comfort me. It was warm and steadied my urge to bring forth tears.

Everyone was silent.

A moment of reflection....

...and in that silence a little voice boomed out,

"Do you yike my mohawk!!?"

Gotta love that Max.

He knew just what to do to make one of my favorite memories of the day. Before he opened his mouth everyone was trying to hold back tears. Then he spoke, and everyone around us was trying to hold back bursts of laughter at his innocent explosion of excitement that we had "mohawked" his hair for the day.

OLIVE FINGERS!! .... he'd already eaten one by the time I got the camera out.

Mom's "section" of the family right there. Another one of my sisters came later with a few of her kids and grandkids so they missed the picture but..... this picture makes me happier than I could possibly explain. She was SO HAPPY right there to have her kids and grandkids around her. My heart was over flowing.

After the reunion we met up with an old high school friend we'd reconnected with on Facebook, and then headed to Dogwood Park for the fireworks. The kids were starting to wind down, so we thought treating them to some sugar might spruce up their attitude. You know, put a spring in their steps to "wake them up" so they wouldn't zonk for the Fireworks....

Um..... IT WORKED.....

Oh yeah, that sugar is kickin' in alright!!

They were buzzin'!! ha ha ha!!

Me and the Yeti, just chillin' on the blanket waiting for the Big Show!!

As luck would have it, we ran into my niece and nephews in that sea of people. We knew they were going, too, but we didn't all ride together or anything. SO GLAD we met up with the kids!!

"It's the 4th of Juuu-ly people. Let's BLOW some SHIT UP!!" ha ha ha ha!!!

Now, I have a "nice" picture of me with the kids but.... THIS one is so much better!!

The reconstruction of the Brown Family Totem Pole!!

And the night ended just as it should have.....

This was the first time the boys saw a big Fireworks display.

Spencer was JUMPING up and down, screaming OH MY GOSH!! and Max was just tickled beyond reason.

Walking back to the car, he said,

"Dat was just SO COOL!"

and I thought, you know, that kid just quoted the entire day right there.

Thanks for lookin' guys! Hope your 4th was as SPECTACULAR as ours was!!

12:08 PM

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July 4, 2009 - Saturday

A Way to Bring It All Together....
Category: Art and Photography

So, I posted that blog about my Family Reunion tomorrow, and I've REALLY been down about the whole event. I'm just in a funk about wanting back what is long gone.

Don't worry, I'll get over it. And on the flip side I am THANKFUL -- for the memories and photographs I DO have, for my boys and their excitement about going, for Yeti's understanding on why I keep drifting off into deep thoughts and at the same time how I can't seem to sit still for very long.

I decided to do something today.

Well, I got the idea yesterday afternoon but knew I couldn't get to it until today.

My Aunt Mary used to paint and make ceramics. When I was little, sometimes she'd bring a piece and raffle it off at the Reunion. One year, she'd made a lamp. I want to remember that it was an elephant but I could be wrong and confusing my "real" nostalgia with something from The Breakfast Club. (ha ha ha) .... but it was a lamp of some animal.

And MAN, I wanted that thing. I couldn't have been more than six or seven years old, and I overheard her and Uncle Tom at the reunion. He was telling her how unfair it would be for her to "fix" it that I won, and she didn't care.

I got that lamp, people. Whether I won it fair and square or Aunt Mary fixed it to this day I do not know but.... I won the lamp.

I decided to start my own tradition. So, I sat down with my clay today and banged out the first official Hysong Family Reunion sculpture. The photos are before I glazed it and wrote "Hysong Reunion 2009" on the placard, but I wanted to share. There are little "gems" here and there, probably no one else will even notice except me......

The whole piece:

An aerial shot:

Side View:

Back View:

Bear Close-Up:

The rocks were a last minute idea to fill in some of the green, but I'm TOTALLY stoked at how realistic those came out:

...and a close-up of that cake. Makes me hungry!!

There are seven siblings in my family. All of us will NOT be there tomorrow. There are rifts that keep several away, and one sister lives in PA and couldn't make it in this year. I do not have ONE memory of all seven of us kids at a 4th of July reunion. If it happened I was too little to remember.

But.... there are seven cupcakes on that platter.

Aunt Mary collected bears. Truth be told, EVERY time I sculpt a bear? In my heart, it's for her. But I thought making the central character a bear was a way to have part of her back tomorrow.

Aunt Mary's daughter Ann -- my cousin.... she and I were close, too. She passed away in 2001, and like Aunt Mary, Ann LOVED the reunion.
Ann was also crazy about the color purple. No, not the movie!!.... the actual COLOR purple. Anything and everything purple.
There are a few cupcakes with purple wrappers in there.

It's not magic. I can't bring the dead back to life, even for a few hours on one summer day and I can't wave a wand and make my siblings get over what keeps them at a distance.

But I can play with some clay and get lost in daydreams for a while.
Therapeutic?
Man, you'd better believe it.

Be safe tomorrow, people.
Appreciate what you have.
Reflect and respect on what you may have lost.
Always... ALWAYS tell the people you love what they mean to you.

3:35 AM

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July 3, 2009 - Friday

Drunken Blogging by Katrina Brown
Category: Friends

Okay so I'm not DRUNK. Not totally. I am glad that Mozilla has spell checker right now though.

My sister called and asked if I wanted to go Karaoke with her. I think I've mentioned before that in my 20's I was QUITE a Karaoke Diva. Now, I can't sing all THAT wonderfully but I can carry a tune when I set my mind to it.

We got a sitter and Yeti and I headed out.

Not comedy. No "Katrina's working tonight and Yeti is going to watch the show...."

Just... Out.

I went to the patio to smoke and was met with a stranger's ass.

One dude pantsed..... panted..... pants...... One dude ripped down another dude's PANTS and then proceeded to beat him about the head and neck area with his belt.
They were laughing.
I assumed an assault was not taking place.
They were in their mid 20's, I thought, and I remember guys I hung with acting like that more than a decade ago.......
Until I was informed by one of the chicks with them that the pants-er was in his 50's.
Even comedians I know don't act like that in a bar.
But trust me, I was laughing.
I got to take my beer out side with my smoke AND see someone's ass.
Whoo-ha, Party Time! (*rolling eyes*)

So, it's my turn to sing and I decide I'm going to do a little Ob La Di Ob La Da.... it's a Feel Good song of mine right now, and how bad can you screw up THAT song?

There was a couple dancing on the dance floor. Older couple. At LEAST mid to late 50's if not older.
He was coppin' a feel left and right and they were dancing WAY too close and too slow for an upbeat Beatles tune.
That's when it happened.
Drunk old guy tried to spin or hump (I'm not sure) drunk old chick....

.... and he FELL ON HER.

We're talking a quality dance and smash that was classic enough for America's Funniest Home Video.

Except......

.... they just kinda laid there. He was on top of her. They weren't moving. For a moment I thought perhaps drunk old chick lost consciousness and was knocked out by the fall. The floor was rather HARD.

They. Just. Laid. There.

Perhaps they were hoping if they laid there long enough the floor would swallow them whole and they wouldn't have to get up and face embarrassment? Maybe he was just trying to finish the deal and DO HER right there on the dance floor?

I wasn't sure.

I also wasn't sure what the proper response was in terms of me continuing to sing or if I should stop and ask someone to call 911 over the mic.

I decided, "Screw it" and kept singing.

Eventually Drunk Humping Couple got up and slithered away.

We, of course, laughed about it at our table. It was hard NOT to.

Karma will bite you in the ass, people. I'm telling you this is the truth....

....because I got up to go smoke, and went to walk up the steps to go out to the patio and tripped my tipsy ass right up the stairs. I don't think as many people noticed my fall as the Drunken Hump Dancers, but Yeti saw. We had a great laugh over it. I popped up pretty fast, threw my hands up in the "TOUCH DOWN!" gesture and took a bow.

9.9
9.6
9.8
10! Perfect execution of Tipsy Stay-At-Home-Mom who should NOT partake in Dollar Drafts on Karaoke Night SPLAT ON THE STEPS!!

There were skanky bar coozes who got up to sing "Hey Yah" or what ever that song is. I know you'd know it if you heard it. That "Hey yah..... HEY YAAAH..... alright alright alright..... I know this fo-shoooo...."
Whatever.
They didn't know the lyrics.
The lyrics were on the MONITOR in FRONT OF THEM.
How anyone can fuck up Karaoke in 2009 is beyond me, but they did.
At this point my ears hurt. Even though there was a fine mix of ages represented at the bar, at this point I felt OLD.

I still got up and sang one more time though. You can't follow the Hey-Yah Young and Perky Skanks and NOT sound like .... The Next American Idol.

Confession: I got up to the mic, and I wanted to tell the chick running the Karaoke to just nix the song and let me do a five minute set of my material. I didn't but I wanted to. Singing in the mic felt weird. I talk into it MUCH better.

I only had a few beers, but it will be enough so that the boys' whining and yelping will seem amplified and higher pitched than normal in the morning.

Oh well. I made that bed. Now I'm going to go pass out in it.

Nighty-Night all!!

4:34 AM

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July 2, 2009 - Thursday

Homage to The 4th of July
Category: Life

With the exception of a MINOR few years, I have attended my family reunion on the 4th of July.

It started with my grandmother and her siblings. I think there were eight or nine of them? I can't even remember now.

That entire generation is gone, but the years rotate on who gets the park, who's "in charge" based off of the descendants of the Hysong Siblings. Meaning, next year would've been my grandma's year so we're not in charge of much this year, but next year it will be up to Mom (or us kids) to get the park and provide beverages and the main meat courses. Everyone else brings a covered dish.

When it was my grandma's year, decades ago, my Mom would help her out. We used to use the same park for decades but that park has fallen into disrepair and often has homeless people peeing in the pavilion...... so we don't use that location any more.

Still, when I think of years past? It's THAT park that signifies the reunion to me.

This thing always starts at 11:00 in the afternoon, but at the old park, in the pavilion, there was a mini kitchen area that was locked up. If you rented the park, the dude with the key would drop it off EARLY in the morning.

Now, this park was a mere five minute drive (or hell, even a 15 minute WALK) from our old house......
..... but Mom would drag us kids to that park at 7:00 in the morning to get the key and then we'd wait.

For hours.

And hours.

AND HOURS......

... until everyone else showed up.

I have vivid memories of balling up on a picnic table and napping, waiting for the cousins I only got to see once a year.

Each year the attendance gets less and less. The pavilion in the old park had a TON of picnic tables and there would still be people who showed up late who had to blanket and lawn chair their eating areas.

Kids ran EVERYWHERE. This thing was monumentally HUGE. Sometimes the adults would sit and play penny poker or horse shoes and the kids would still run wild.

ONE time -- and I mean only ONE TIME -- someone decided to bring a pinata. A distant cousin, blindfolded and out for candy, took a hearty swing right as my Aunt Pat walked past. That bat connected with her nose and a spray of blood was all we got from that adventure.
No more pinatas at the Hysong Reunion.
Up until she died, I teased Aunt Pat at EVERY reunion about having another one. She'd chase me around tables calling me a smart mouthed little shit and we'd laugh so hard over the whole thing..... Damn, I miss her.

As generations fluctuate, people have found more important things to do on the 4th I guess. Sometimes people show up and I don't even know how we're related any more. People move away. People die. People decide family isn't a priority. I'll openly admit I have a love/hate relationship with the whole ordeal.

It's just not the same any more.
And I miss the way it used to be.

My boys can't WAIT for it. Spencer keeps checking the calendar every day, ticking off days until the reunion.

For that, I am thankful.

Family still has to stand for something in a world that is too big, and loved ones are too distant and busy to get together over a few bad batches of potato salad and watered down kool-aid.

Aunt Mary and Uncle Tom Hysong Reunion circa 1970-something

My Grandma and her sister, my Great Aunt Carrie

My Mom and Dad, my Grandma, and my siblings with a cousin thrown in there. Don't look for me. I wasn't even born yet!

Ah, the 80's. That's me, smack dab in the middle, in the eye-bleeding yellow shirt and (lord help me) JAMS shorts.

Mom and me and my sibs at the reunion last year. Five out of seven will have to do, I guess....

THAT.... is just descendants of my Grandmother. Mom, her two sisters, and their kids. Again, I wasn't even born when this picture was taken. Now, imagine THAT multiplied by eight and then some..... THAT is how monstrous these things used to be.

Mom in the front, and then Aunt Mary top left, Grandma, and Aunt Pat. Mom's the only one left. When things change? Sometimes? It never. stops. hurting. You don't "get over" losing someone you love. You simply learn to Live With It... no matter how much it sucks.

Aunt Mary and Mom; Reunion 2007. This was the last Reunion Aunt Mary got to attend. It is simply NOT the same without her.

The Hysong Clan.
Most of them, anyway. There are some brothers missing from this photo. That's my Grandma in the bottom center there.
Right above her?
Uncle John. He'd always bring weird noise makers and kazoos and strange stuff for us kids to play with.
And in later years?
A cassette player..... to play Polka music.
You know, to drive us KIDS crazy.

It's tradition someone say a prayer before we all eat. Every year it is mentioned that we are "without" someone who was there the year before. As a kid, I could never understand why it was brought up, or why the older people would get wet eyed and reflective.

I get it now.

3:56 PM

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July 1, 2009 - Wednesday

When you have time on your hands...... (Photo Blog)

So, I showed off my OCD tendencies of making miniature foods with the clay a few blogs back. I do that from time to time -- I make these itty bitty teensie tiny things, and then they sit.

I can never figure out what to DO with them.

Those mini Ice Cream Sundaes?

I found something to do with them....

He's diggin' his Sundae. Here's a detail shot:

I very much dig how this came out. Side View:

Another one.
Who knew Bears loved ice cream so much?

That's it. All the items I've done recently are in the Katrina Critter's Gallery.

Right now sales are at a hault, but I figure it's because everyone is in Summer Mode and not thinking Christmas. You know, not like goofball OCD chicks.... like me.

I get to a point where I want to just do this stuff EVERY day, for hours, and then I get very little to nothing else DONE. My Comedy schedule has been light this Summer though ---- although it IS about to kick up here as I head to St. Louis July 9-11..... so I have had time to cater to my creative obsessions.

Thanks for lookin'!!

2:05 PM

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June 29, 2009 - Monday

Randomosity : Volume 923

There are times, I believe, a hot cup of black coffee is the single greatest thing in the world to consume.

The boys and I went berry pickin' at my Mom and Dad's yesterday. I stayed clear of the sun (I'm still itchy and in pain) while Yeti and the boys picked black raspberries from the numerous bushes on my parent's property. We had a TON. I made some Raspberry Tarts from scratch and they are sinful. I mean, seriously, they're EVIL.... Evil all wrapped up in berry goodness and light icing and a shit ton of calories. I ran a hand full over to my Mom's today JUST to get them out of the HOUSE. Holy Hell. My affinity for baking could be my diet's undoing.

I think if someone is so unintellegent that they consistantly get Taco Bell orders wrong they should have to wear a label letting the world know how totally incompetent they really are.
It's not rocket science. It's not brain surgery. It's fuckin' TACO. BELL.

The sound of my boys laughing is possibly the single most beautiful sound in the world. However, the sound of them whining over something STUPID has to be a noise set to the earth from Hell itself.

I have too many ideas in my head. Ideas for my clay, ideas for my comedy, ideas for this house. Sometimes they take turns in line, and sometimes they assult my brain like an angry mob trying to take me over.

We are without sattelite right now. The bill needs paid, but we have other more pressing things to worry about. It's okay, really. Most of the days are spent outside anyway. We have a vast DVD collection that the kids can pick from when it's their turn to decide what's on the TV.
They keep asking for "Gremlins", "Ghostbusters" (1 & 2), and "X-Men".
These movies have altered how they play.
Often, I am "Storm" while Max is "Wolverine"
The pool noodles are now Proton Packs.

This is shaping up to be quite a fun Summer!

*taking a sip from my mug*

I'm going to regret drinking a strong cup of coffee at this hour but like I said....
Sometimes a hot cup of java just hits the spot!

What is the ONE beverage you can't live without?
What movie could you watch daily and never grow tired of?
What's a sound of something you hate?
Why am I so full of questions tonight?

10:35 PM

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June 27, 2009 - Saturday

I keep hearing Forrest Gump in mah head....

It wasn't in the movie or anything, but I have a horrid sun burn that stings right now, and I keep thinking of Tom Hank's vocal inflections as Forrest....

"My shoulders are sting-ing."

I know. I'm not right.

I went to FL for Spring Break my sophomore year in college, and I sustained one HELL of a sun burn on that vacation. We were all out on a boat at high noon (stupid) and I was SO CAREFUL to slather myself with sun screen. Apply and reapply. Apply and reapply. I thought I was careful anyway.

The car ride home was long, so I fell asleep. When we got to the house of the people we were staying with I couldn't get out of the car. My knees were so burned I couldn't bend my legs. We packed cold compresses on them and I fell asleep, ignoring every other part of myself.

When I woke up, I couldn't open my eyes all the way.
I looked in the mirror.
I was HORRIFIED.
My eyelids were nothing but blisters.
The "dip" at the nose that leads into your cheeks was GONE, filled with fluid. I had ONE HUGE BLISTER like a Zorro Mask across my face.

I was almost positive it would scar.

My friend's mom called the hospital, and they recommended aloe straight from the plant. I applied that snotty substance every half hour for days. Needless to say, my time outside on that vacation was OVER. My skin peeled until Fall of that year. Especially my face and stomach. The skin on my face would dry into a crispy fried-chicken skin-like substance and crackle off. Then it would refill with fluid and the whole thing would happen all over again. It was horrid. I vowed I would NEVER let that happen to me again.

For years I kept myself OUT of the sun. Like a Vampire afraid of bursting into flames, I pretty much ignored all outside activity where a sunburn could happen. I was UberParanoid.

Around 1996 I got a decent SCORCHING going on at a sand volleyball game. It was an overcast day and I thought I was safe.
WRONG.
I had on a tank top, and burned my shoulders so badly that it permanently freckled my shoulders. I have an odd white "stripe" where there are no freckles from that shirt, and on either side of said stripe I look like a speckled egg.
Again, I had strange peeling after effects. The backs of my ears peeled for MONTHS after that incident was over.

Even with the strongest SPF? I fry. Period.

I've always been ultrasensitive to the sun. I burned as a kid. God, when we lived in FL for 10 months in the 80's, Mom would drag us to the beach on the weekends and I'd spend the week popping the new blisters and peeling skin just to have it happen again. She never kept an eye on it because I was the ONLY kid in the family who burned and peeled like that. The rest of them were half Italian and had darker skin to start with. Pale Faced, Melatonin Challenged Me? Holy Hell. It was like she was trying to infect me with skin cancer. I'd beg to skip the beach and she'd just say
"Wear a t-shirt!"
Uh, okay.... but that didn't cover my face. Or arms. Or legs. or the back of my neck.
I was a MESS.
A big, blistery, hot, freckled, peeling mess just about the ENTIRE 10 months we lived there. I never built a "base" tan or burn that turned brown over time. I was seventeen different shades of pink, beat red, and I swear, sometimes PURPLE.

Knowing NOW what we know about how burns as children can do to us later in life, I attempt as best I can to slather the kids in SPF when they're outside.

I was SO CONCERNED with the kids yesterday -- especially our little ghostly Maxwell -- that I forgot about myself.

Now?

I'm paying for it.

No blistered face this time (THANK GOD) but my shoulders are sting..ing.

I have a rash. It's all over my legs and my arms. It's not poison Ivy or anything. It's a sun rash. Sun poisoning? I don't know.
I just need to stay the hell out of the sun.
Or build a SPF Suit to wear out in it.

Kermit can bitch all he wants about it not being easy being green.
Fuck off, Frog.
It's not easy being BEAT RED.
Damn.

9:38 PM

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June 25, 2009 - Thursday

Little Snippets Shaved of mah Brain...

The central air is out.

It was never "on" but now it's officially OUT. It was shutting off and on without bringing the house to temp until yesterday. It never actually got the house COOL, but it did knock the heat back and stove off the humidity. You know, until yesterday.

Then?

Then it kinda hummed, wheezed, and died.

And our landlord hasn't returned our calls about it.

This house is weird. The living room windows don't open. The kitchen has a window above the sink, but the outlet isn't grounded so I'm not about to put a window unit THERE.

Basically we're all marinading in our own juices up in here.

And I JUST got the living room smelling "normal" again, too. Ugh!

******

I was out at The Cleveland Improv last night. I had a pretty decent set. Yeti taped it, and I'll post the whole thing to the page once he gets it from the camera to the computer. It's some older stuff and new stuff mixed in. No point in chopping it into "snippets" since it's only a six minute set.

I love the buzz of a good show. Totally legal intoxication!!

******

I did not know that I could sweat from my wrists. Learn something new every day.

******

For most of the day, Maxwell will NOT answer me unless I address him as "Wolverine"
He keeps calling me "Storm".

Little boys can be such a trip to spend the day with, I'll tell ya!

******

We've established that the "mystery berries" are indeed Mulberries in the back yard. We went out back and picked a whole tub of them. They're rather bland just off the tree, but I have some Experimental Baking I'd like to do.

Not today.

Turning the oven on would be like sitting on the sun and eating Habinaro (sp?) Peppers as a snack, washed down with some Tobasco Sauce.

I'm crazy, but I ain't stupid! The kitchen -- the whole house, really -- is hot enough without adding any heat to it.

******

The more weight I lose? The more I really, REALLY want a tummy tuck.

I used to obsess over a boob job. You know, right the wrongs of Mother Nature and fix the Mutated Ta-Ta's.

Screw it. Win the lottery? Okay, fine, new boobs. But the need to get this nasty belly GONE is turning into an obsession. Not anything over-the-top but.... pretty close. I daydream about plastic surgery. There's GOT to be something WRONG with that on a psychological level.

It's not even vanity. It's comfort.

I roll over to sleep on my stomach and I feel like I have a permanent fanny pack on. It was never that bad before, but it's getting to a point where the rest of me is shrinking and this .... thing... is still there on the front of my body.

It needs to GO AWAY.

******

I really, REALLY want to bake with those Berries. Damn, I wish the landlord would call and say,
"Repair man is on his way!!"

******

Yeti has just told the kids he's setting up their little blow up yard pool.

It goes up?

Screw it, man. I can push harder than the kids. I'll knock those booger pickers out of the way and be the first one in!

Okay not REALLY.... but the thought crossed my mind....

5:17 PM

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June 24, 2009 - Wednesday

I Scream! You Scream!... and cupcakes, too!

I started diving back into the claymation occupation about a week ago. Beefing up my 2009 Stock.

I know, I'm the only dork thinking about Christmas in June, right?!

Some of you might not know what I'm talking about. I've picked up a few new blog readers recently.

Hello New People. Have I mentioned how much I love you?

Anyway, for those of you who don't know, I hand sculpt Christmas Ornaments and other various thingamagigies and sell them on a separate page. I'll attempt to get the link to it in here, but won't promise anything.

I just wanted to show off what I did this after noon.

I'm always looking for new stuff to put WITH the lil' critters, and decided that Ice Cream was good.

It's on my mind. It's HOT, okay?? So rather than EAT it, I sculpted it, trying out some translucent clay for a "frosted glass" look. I have two different brands of said clay, and one brand darkened more than the other giving the "glass" an old yellowed look.

Still cool though, for a first try. I put the Penny in the pictures for size reference......

I regret putting vanilla on the tops of two of them, because the "whipped cream" doesn't show as well as it does on the strawberry one. Lesson learned!

Cupcakes, anyone?

This one is my favorite. Not sure why. Just is.

Photobucket is acting up right now. It keeps shooting me the SAME picture so I have NO CLUE how these are going to come out. Attempting, once again, to the the last shot of all the stuff together......

There it is!!

These took me a total of five+ hours to do today. They'll all look better once they're in the hands of a critter and glazed off, but I'm pretty happy with 'em as-is.

Thanks for lookin'!!

7:37 PM

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June 23, 2009 - Tuesday

Weak. So very weak.

There's a spot on the back of my neck, when kissed, will instantly turn me into a big mess of quivery shivers.

He nails it every time.

It can be a prelude to something later in the evening or have no ulterior motive at all. Just a small, light kiss on the back of the neck while I'm doing dishes, or sitting on the floor with the kids, working on my clay, whatever.....

That spot, and I go weak.

We have not had a perfect marriage, the Yeti and I. Who has? Has a marriage ever existed where harsh words and ill conceived actions have not been spoken or committed in a moment of selfish behavior?

I doubt it.

We go through highs and lows like everyone else, but we always come back around to the basic fact that we are good together. And we work. We might be slightly insane and a little off center of normal, but we work.

And he gets me.

It freaks me out that he understands me because 99.9% of the time I don't even understand myself.

I don't like weakness in general. It pisses me off. It's chosen most of the time, to be weak. I'm not talking about weakness from cancer or being beaten down by a specific life circumstance. I'm talking about weak people. You know the difference.

He makes me weak, though. I fought it at the beginning. I saw myself falling so hard for this man and I thought I had to fight it. Weakness is a sign of stupidity. It took me a while to learn that weakness in the presence of love is about the bravest thing anyone can possess.

My defenses don't stand a chance against him. They never have. There is something in his eyes. Something in his smile that tells me,
"I get you, you know. You're not so tough...."

And he's right. At least where he's concerned.

And that spot on my neck. It's like a target... and he nails it every time.

7:02 PM

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June 22, 2009 - Monday

We need some levity.

I turned my back for less than 10 minutes yesterday, and the boys tattooed themselves with markers... again. I posted the pictures in my folder on here. Quite the budding artists, my sons!! At least it wasn't a Sharpie!

(that was for Tommy and Maggie!!)

I bragged on that shopping trip I took back at the end of May --- you know, when I needed suit pants --- and I forgot to mention "the gray jeans".
They were on a clearance rack for $5.00.
I bought them.
Got them home, and they were too big. Had to exchange them out for the next size down which happened to be a 14.
I do NOT wear a 14.
But THESE jeans say "14" on the tag.
THOSE are the jeans I wore, comfortably, to the show at the gay bar on Saturday night. I was dancing with joy as I was getting ready for said show, and Yeti commented on my ass. *giggly giddy moment* I thought he was just, you know, being the pig that I love and adore until I looked in the mirror and realized I do indeed have something that resembles an ass again.

I have now officially hit the 50 pound mark.
Have I announced that yet?
I have lost 50 pounds.
Wait, let me repeat that again.....

I

Have

Lost

FIFTY

Pounds.

I can run for an hour now, and not feel like I'm going to die. I can reach down to tie my own shoes without having to "rest" in between feet, and do both without making odd grunting and gurgling noises under my breath.

The friggin' steering wheel no longer digs into my stomach when I drive. IN FACT, there's a nice gap between my ever shrinking gut and the wheel now!! Look, I have short legs -- I jack that seat pretty far forward anyway!! But no more wheel-in-the-belly. HOT DAMN!

I was driving..... oh hell, somewhere the other day, and I was at a stop light. Singing, of course. Lost in my own little world.
Some guy in the car next to me was watching. You know how sometimes you can feel that? Feel someone's eyes on you? It's kindof a creepy, paranoid feeling?
I look over, and he's laughing. -- The singing thing? I do it with great enthusiasm when I'm alone in the car!! -- then....
Then he winked at me.
It was weird.
A stranger car-flirted with me.
I can't remember the last time THAT has happened.

I look in the mirror and I can see the "me" I used to be, just under the surface. It's like a hologram over the person I am right now trying to come through. It's the "me" I was when I met my husband, and "she" is ready to be reborn from under the sheath of fat I've kept her hidden under for so many years.

I sit on the couch and look over at my own arm and I don't recognize it, because there are muscular cuts in my skin that weren't there six months ago.

I run my hand over my hip as I'm lying in bed, talking with my husband, and I feel a weird knob and realize.... Holy Shit. That's my hip bone!

I have a long way to go yet.

I have areas that are NEVER going to be back to anything 'normal' without surgical intervention but I'm okay with that.

I said at the start of this journey I wasn't doing this for vanity or to attempt to obtain some unrealistic vision of beauty that society places on ALL women.

I want to be the best version of Katrina I can find.

Hey, it is POSSIBLE that this is it. As in THIS, right here, this is it. But it's a might fine better version than 50 pounds ago when I couldn't walk from THE CAR to the HOUSE, sometimes, without panting.

I feel physically sane right now.
I feel desired by my husband when he shoots me those, "Damn woman.... if the kids weren't here I'd........." looks.
I sleep better.
I wake up easier.
.....and if losing 50 pounds did that, I do have to wonder how I'm going to feel another 30-40 pounds out?

Is it POSSIBLE for me to get rid of another 30 or 40 pounds? I DO have it to lose.

I like a challenge, you know.
Someone say it.
Someone say, "I dare ya, Katrina....."
That always ads a bit of spice to it for me.

7:10 PM

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June 21, 2009 - Sunday

Daddy's Little Girl?
Category: Life

I wrote my Dad a letter about a month ago letting him know that Spencer's surgery went well. I thought it would be the kind and right thing to do to update him on his grandson.

Dad stopped talking to me again about two years ago.

Just.... stopped. No cause. No reason. Just.... stopped.

It's the way it's been, the way it always will be, and I'm okay with it.

At least, I think I am. I started that letter with the best and kindest and purest intentions and what came out was a seething decree of anger, resentment, and mental bile all over the page.

I never mailed the letter, but it felt good to write it and get it out of my head.

On and off, off and on, so the cycle has gone that he floats into my life and out again. Into my life and out again. The difference this time is my boys.

He held them.
He said he loved them.
Spencer was old enough to speak and called him Grandpa.

And the man walked away.

Again.

I'm used to it. I've grown and I understand there are people who are just NOT cut out for the parental thang. But he will not hurt my sons. He will not present himself as someone who loves them to just turn and walk away again. I will never have my kids wonder,

"Does Grandpa still love me? Why doesn't he come around any more?"

It was becoming a parent myself that caused me to understand my own in ways I never wanted to relate to them.

It was becoming a parent myself that has surged forth such great anger towards the people who combined DNA to make me, too.

I watch Yeti get through this day, and he's happy to be a Daddy. He loves his sons. He loves my Step-Dad, but I also know his heart is aching in a way I'll never understand today.

This is the first Father's Day without Gene here, and I know there is a part of his heart today that is simply breaking.

Then, I think of my Dad, probably on a golf course somewhere today, probably totally oblivious to what day it is, and I think of how unfair that is. Yep, time to be crass:
If one of our Dads had to get a deadly brain tumor, why the Good Dad?
It sucks.

Not that I wish ill on the man who passed on the red hair and all but....... it's pretty close to what's in my heart.

I celebrate this day for my Husband. He's a great Daddy. Our boys love the hell out of him. He's patient. EVER so much more than I am most of the time. He takes his little buddies with him when he runs errands and he's often the one putting them to bed at night when I'm out working. I think Gene's spirit runs strong in Pat.

And, when I think of men like my husband, and his father before him.... it kinda makes me want to call my Dad and say,

"You're such a piece of shit. Do you know that?"

... but that never does anyone any good.

Yeah, I thought about writing Dad to tell him that Spencer made it through the surgery with flying colors. I thought it would be nice to tell him that there weren't any complications and that Spencer is fine. The reality hit me as I started typing that the TRUTH IS..... Dad doesn't care. He simply doesn't care.

YOU GUYS, who have never met nor held my sons, probably had more of a concern about his surgery than someone biologically related to him. Essentially strangers, and you had more prayer in your hearts and concern and a genuine curiosity over the child's grandpa.

I'm lucky though.

I have Yeti -- a strong and kindhearted and patient man to be a Father to my children.

I have my Step-Dad -- never an overly affectionate man, sure, but he would give you the shirt of his back if he thought you needed it.

I have my Uncle Tom -- he was out at Mom's today, so happy to see these boys and visit with them and see how big they've gotten since the last time he was in town.

The urge to phone my father and tell him what a loser he is is ironic. It's the spunk and pissiness I got from him. I didn't have to be raised by him to act like him sometimes.

The other side of me wants to tell him how sorry I feel for him. So very sorry for him. He has missed out on so much. He has missed out on ME. Missed out on my BOYS. I pity him. It's all I can give him this Father's Day, ..........and I don't even know how to send it.

9:06 PM

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Katrina Brown

Last Updated: 6/30/2009

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Status: Married
State: OH
Country: US
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