love day, eh.

on this day of love, here are two images that i think you will really, really love:

(Love comes in all forms, of course. Love as reminiscence of scary bavarian women holding beers and tiny italian vans, curving through impossibly small alley ways jolt to mind.)

Either way though, i'm sure that it's love.

happy valentines day, sweetie pie.

xo.

currently reading: the nasty bits, anthony bourdain

(tony bourdain is an american cook, gone hilarious author, and still a cook. he was one of the first people to "reveal" the dirty/nasty/drug and alcohol "ridden" element of kitchen culture)

Basically, he's fucking hilarious.

current excerpt: p.16/17:

context: minor fast food rant instigated by the fact that there is a terribly obese man taking up not just 1, not 2, but 3 seats on the subway. after 14 hours of work, tony would really, really like to sit. (but it aint gonna happen.) morbidly obese man taking up 3 too many seats incites rant about culture, social status, and even ability to participate in a war (read: fox holes are too small for obese people).

here we go...

I wouldn't really care what they put in those burgers - if they tasted good. And though I do care that the rivers of Arkansas are cloggin up with chicken shit to stisfy the world's relentless craving for crispy fried chicken fingers, I don't believe that we should legislate these cocksuckers out of business. My position is kind of the Nancy Reagan position on drugs: "Just Say No."

Next time you find yourself standing slack-jawed and hungry in front of a fast-food counter - and a clown is anywhere nearby - just turn on your heels and head for the lone-wolf, independent operator down the street: a pie shop, a chippie, a kebab join, or, in New York, a "dirty-water hot dog," anywhere that the proprietor has a name. Even that beloved British institution, the chippie, is preferable to the clown's fare; at least you are encouraging individual, local business, an entrepreneur who can react to neighborhood needs and wants, rather than a dictatorial system in which some focus group in an industrial park in Iwoa decides for you what you will or should want. Deep-friend cod or plaice with vinegar, haggis with curry sauce; these may not be the apex of healthy eating, but at least they're indigenous to somewhere - an, washed down with enough beer or Irn-Bru, they're quite tasty. the kebab shop makes food that is at least fresh, and a beef schwarma does not require the addition of beef flavour to make it taste like food.

Whenever possible, try to eat food that comes from somewhere, from somebody. And stop eating so fucking much. A little portion control would go a long way in slimming down our herds of heavyweights in their tent-like T-shirts, Gap easy-fit pants, and baggy shorts. (Apparently taking body-sculpting cues from some of our more humungous rappers, these guys ignore the fact that many of their heroes probably have to wash themselves with a sponge at the end of a stick.)

You may as well stop snacking on crap while you're at it. You don't need that bag of chips, between meal, do you? You're probably not even enjoying it. Save your appetite for something good! Take a little more time. All that rage and frustration, that hollow feeling so many of us feel - for so many good reasons - can be filled up with something, better than a soggy disk of ground-up assholes and elbows. Eat for nourishment, yes, but eat for pleasure. Stop settling for less. That way, if we ever do have to get in there and "smoke evildoers out of their holds," at the very least, we'll be able to squeeze in after them."

p.s. i, too, am counting the minutes. weeee. xox

Soon. soon. Soon. Soon.We'll be Howlin' at the Moon.

dear kendra mon cherie.

i am now on a hourly count.

i cannot wait to see you.

that's about all i have to say.

but i thought you should know.

hourly.

Bathtime with Mom.

he's really versatile.

sticks and ceilings.

try to avoid sequins, glitter, and the colour pink as much as possible in the next week and i will see you, well, in less than that! i think you should probably spend a lot of time in the library over the next few days. read the encyclopedia section to julius.

i miss you. you're and incredible person. your fezzzz.

xox

I'm Going to be an Out-Law if Julius Ever Gets Married.

Okay. so just as a place of beginning,

this is how Julius and I spend our normal days:

and this would describe how i feel today:

At this time I would like to create a quote and response portion of the programme:

C. I have two friends who have gone gluten-free, meat-free, dairy-free, sugar-free and oil-free and have lost thirty pounds. They feel really great.

E. You mean like committing dietary suicide? I feel great when I do that too.

C. I really think Julius needs this teething ring. Look, you can put oragel right in the little canister here and he can eat it! It will be great! I'm buying it. I want to buy. Yeah, I'm buying it.

E. Sorry. Julius is not eating oragel for dinner. Or ever. He's going to have to tough this one out with the traditional remedies of cold fruit and wet washcloths. You can buy it if you want, but he's not using it.

C. If we don't get this crib together today I swear, we will have accomplishing nothing.

E. Didn't you come here to, er, spend time with Julius? Oh, I see. You came here to shop. My mistake.

C. Well, I mean, "go back to work, go back to work" nothing is ever set in stone....

E. Actually, your son is going back to school full time in 3 months. And "going back to work" is something that is real. It's set in stone. Like rock hard granite. I have to work.

And that's only a small taste.

9AM:

C. So if I want to turn on the TV, where is the button?

E. Usually I don't turn on the TV until 9pm. Can I have my son back?

C. What does Julius need? Clothes? Toys? How about a trike? Maybe a new bed? What about this special device? Maybe a shirt? Cmmmon, lets just go to Target! Ooooo there is Pier One Imports! Hey...can we stop really briefly at WalMart....I have this huge store credit for Bed Bath and Beyond I forgot at home......

E. You really support sweatshops, eh?

C. I just custom ordered a band new sofa for the sitting room, you know the one no one goes in? Yeah, its dark leather, I think it will look great.

E. Maybe you should donate some money to charity.

10am. Julius' nap time.

C. "ohhhh Mommy, my eyes aren't sleepy" Oh Emma, I dont think he's tired, I think he wants to play, play, Oh Julius honey, No Em, he's not tired, No he's not....

E. Really? Because he's asleep.

Action portion of the programme:

1. Getting INTO the shower with a crib to clean it is fucked up. Seriously. Just fucking spray it and clean it. Get out of the shower with the crib. Seriously. Get out.

2. Manically shoveling little tunnels all over our goddamn yard. Look. We NEVER go there.

3. Putting Julius in his little command center and then turning around and heading to her computer to search for a new crib every time she wants "time" with him.

This was just Day One.

I'll do Part II soon.

miss. you.

dear kendra.

this evening, before it became dark, i went walking.

as i waded around in the snow, i really missed you. the palpable kind.

where it is like, wow. i really, really wish you were here right now.

felt like there was a giant hole in my heart.

i love you so much and cannot wait to see you!

i am so glad i have you in my life, i really do not know what i would do without.

for real.

see you soon. put your adventure socks and triple platinum cap on.

xxxo em.

winter flowers/flowers in winter

dear em,

everything you said about flowers in the winter: true

colour in february: survival mechanism.

cannot wait to see your travel arrangements splatter painted on my inbox.

i love you and your curious tale of the juliusorous.

he's an angel.

and he has your smile.

xox

Cross Sections

Part One.

The dissatisfied baby.

it goes like this:

give. me. my.

BINKY.

NOW.

Part Two.

An eclectic chapter.

is it not strange to think, that one day, if health prevails

that this son & father will stand beside one another as men?

my nightstand. a rotation of photographs and stories.

everyone needs a solo from time to time.

jazzy julius.

Part Three.

A bit more reason.

walter eats a little more of my gumboots every single day.

flowers are flowers are flowers

but flowers in winter

have a special magical quality

(something like the truly bafflingness of globalization?)

"i spilled my carrots, mom"

the gumboot eater.

a naked prince.

I Said Brrr. It's Cold In Here.

The goverment of Michigan has been issuing advertisements

called: Pure Michigan.

It's an attempt to bolster the regional and state economy via. tourism.

Economic Stiiiiiiimulus.

It was inevitable that someone would spoof it.

And its funny. Because its true. It's the Michigan version of BCers

making fun of Japanese tour buses rapid fire photo taking of deer.

I give you the link to:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XsR0DeY7f1g

(and then a few of my own).

Brrrrrrski.