Smoking is a tough boyfriend to dump...

Spurred on by my list of goals to achieve in the next 1000 days, I'm tackling what might be one of the toughest tasks - quitting smoking.

I wasn't always a smoker. In the first 21 years of my life, I smoked maybe a pack and a half. I never actually bought a pack for myself until I moved to Boston - this is a little ironic, considering I grew up in tobacco country and went to school in the South, where smoking is still very much accepted. Boston even went smoke-free a few weeks before I moved there. But while doing graduate school full-time, going through the break-up of the longest relationship I've ever had and other significant stresses, I picked it up. I thought I'd never become "addicted", and to be honest, part of me still believes that I'm not. I've run the gamut for levels of indulgence in the cancer sticks - I've been a "smoker when I drink", a "closet smoker", a pack-a-day moron, a "smoker to kill the appetite" (this only works for a day or two, trust me - it no longer has an effect on my appetite), and even a "just one in the morning" smoker.

I know, it's not becoming. Trust me, I know. It ruins your skin, it causes cancer, it makes your lungs perform at record low levels, and it's just plain unattractive. I don't have to be sold on this aspect of it - I am perfectly aware of the risks to my health, my vanity and everything in between.

But I'll admit: I, as well as many other smokers, just plain LIKE to smoke. If you've never been a consistent smoker, well, good for you, but I haven't quit yet simply because I just like it. When my life sucks, and I'm about to bust out crying at anything, I can go out on the porch and escape everything for five minutes. After reading The Power of Now and realizing the importance of meditation, I've come to the conclusion that to many of us, smoking is an act of meditation. There's an unwritten "no assholes" rule on just about every smoker's porch in the world, and you can either socialize or choose to be by yourself out there. It calms you, helps you slow your breathing and blood pressure, and stabilizes emotions that have gone through the roof. A pack of Parliament Lights doesn't tell me that I'm doing things wrong, a lighter doesn't make me cry, and I don't think I've ever gotten in an honest-to-god argument with someone while smoking. Well, excluding my ex, that is.

That being said, again, I know I need to quit. I don't want to fail, so I'm trying to get a multi-pronged approach to removing that Philip Morris out of my life.

1. The patch. I think I can quit without it. But I don't want to find myself failing at the get-go because I haven't realized the full power of nicotine addiction. Cold turkey may work, but I don't want to make this too hard on myself.

2. Incentive. I'm thinking of setting up an ING account to take a dollar a day out of my checking so I can reward myself for not smoking. If I stumble, the money for that day goes to the American Cancer Society. Given the fact that I have very little money, however, I've got to figure out something else. Any ideas?

3. A built-in response to weakness. My quit date hasn't been established yet (I think I need a specific time built in stone where I just get rid of every pack laying around the house), but I'm kind of taking the weight watchers approach - I just need to recover from stumbles rather than give up on the whole goal. After my quit date, I'm giving myself ten moments of weakness. Ten. That may sound like a lot, but I'm guessing you've never been a smoker if it does. If I'm considering using one of them, I'll think long and hard as to whether or not I really want to use one of my ten.

4. Alternatives. I have to figure out something else to do when I usually smoke - when I'm walking the dog, when I'm driving, when I'm done with a meal, when I'm drinking, when I'm bored, when work is getting to me, etc. This is a lot harder than you think.

5. Figure out how to avoid the quitting-smoking weight gain. I personally don't care if I gain a few, but the reality is that I can't afford to not fit into my clothes. This is also pretty difficult - I'm allergic to chewing gum. I'm thinking about toothpicks, although I know I'll look like an even bigger redneck.

Any ideas? Anyone got an incentive they're willing to stake me to? I'll do the same for one of your goals.

The 100 Books - 10 down, 90 to go.

I may have bitten off more than I can chew. After reviewing a few lists of "100 Greatest Books of All Time", I picked this one. No, it's not the one with the most books I've already read, it's actually a consensus of the other lists.

To be fair, I am not considering an item "read" if I bought the cliffs notes in high school or college. I started a lot of these, but I am making myself read the whole thing. Yes, I have to read the entire book to get credit and no, the movie doesn't count. The items in red are the ones I've already read. I consider it shameful that my mother is an English teacher, I consider myself a voracious reader, and I write for a living, yet I have only read about ten percent of these.

I think I'm going to start with Virginia Woolf's "To the Lighthouse".

Oh, and if you have any of these books, send them to me, I'll send them back!

1. THE GREAT GATSBY by F. Scott Fitzgerald
2. ULYSSES by James Joyce
3. 1984 by George Orwell
4. THE CATCHER IN THE RYE by J.D. Salinger
5. ON THE ROAD by Jack Kerouac
6. THE GRAPES OF WRATH by John Steinbeck
7. CATCH-22 by Joseph Heller
8. LOLITA by Vladimir Nabokov
9. BRAVE NEW WORLD by Aldous Huxley
10. BRIDESHEAD REVISITED by Evelyn Waugh
11. THE SOUND AND THE FURY by William Faulkner
12. TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD by Harper Lee
13. THE LORD OF THE RINGS by J.R.R. Tolkien
14. A PORTRAIT OF THE ARTIST AS A YOUNG MAN by James Joyce
15. ANIMAL FARM by George Orwell
16. TO THE LIGHTHOUSE by Virginia Woolf
17. INVISIBLE MAN by Ralph Ellison
18. A CLOCKWORK ORANGE by Anthony Burgess
19. GONE WITH THE WIND by Margaret Mitchell
20. AS I LAY DYING by William Faulkner
21. A FAREWELL TO ARMS by Ernest Hemingway
22. A PASSAGE TO INDIA by E.M. Forster
23. LORD OF THE FLIES by William Golding
24. THE CALL OF THE WILD by Jack London
25. DAVID COPPERFIELD by Charles Dickens
26. EMMA by Jane Austen
27. TESS Of The D’URBERVILLES, Thomas Hardy
28. THE SCARLET LETTER by Nathaniel Hawthorne
29. WUTHERING HEIGHTS by Emily Bronte
30. THE HEART IS A LONELY HUNTER by Carson McCullers
31. SLAUGHTERHOUSE FIVE by Kurt Vonnegut
32. JANE EYRE by Charlotte Bronte
33. BELOVED by Toni Morrison
34. ANNA KAREINA by Leo Tolstoy
35. THE SUN ALSO RISES by Ernest Hemingway
36. NATIVE SON by Richard Wright
37. ONE HUNDRED YEARS OF SOLITUDE by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
38. NOSTROMO by Joseph Conrad
39. HEART OF DARKNESS by Joseph Conrad
40. UNDER THE VOLCANO by Malcolm Lowry
41. THE GOOD SOLDIER by Ford Madox Ford
42. HERZOG by Saul Bellow
43. THE WIND IN THE WILLOWS by Kenneth Grahame
44. U.S.A. (trilogy) by John Dos Passos
45. FINNEGANS WAKE by James Joyce
46. AN AMERICAN TRAGEDY by Theodore Dreiser
47. WOMEN IN LOVE by D.H. Lawrence
48. THE AGE OF INNOCENCE by Edith Wharton
49. THE WOMAN IN WHITE by Wilkie Collins
50. THINGS FALL APART by Chinua Achebe
51. TROPIC OF CANCER by Henry Miller
52. MY ANTONIA by Willa Cather
53. LIGHT IN AUGUST by William Faulkner
54. THE MAGUS by John Fowles
55. THE WORLD ACCORDING TO GARP by John Irving
56. DON QUIXOTE by Miguel de Cervantes
57. TOM JONES by Henry Fielding
58. WAR AND PEACE by Leo Tolstoy
59. MOBY-DICK by Herman Melville
60. MADAME BOVARY by Gustave Flaubert
61. WINNIE THE POOH by A(lan) A(lexander) Milne
62. GREAT EXPECTATIONS by Charles Dickens
63. THE BROTHERS KARAMAZOV by Feodor Dostoevsky
64. TRISTAM SHANDY by Laurence Sterne
65. LITTLE WOMEN by Louisa M. Alcott
66. VANITY FAIR by William Makepeace Thackeray
67. PRIDE AND PREJUDICE by Jane Austen
68. IN SEARCH OF LOST TIME by Marcel Proust
69. THE AMBASSADORS by Henry James
70. THE FOUNTAINHEAD by Ayn Rand
71. GRAVITY’S RAINBOW by Thomas Pynchon
72. THE AWAKENING by Kate Chopin (1851-1904)
73. DUNE by Frank Herbert
74. A TOWN LIKE ALICE by Nevil Shute
75. ALICE’S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND by Lewis Carroll
76. CLARISSA by Samuel Richardson
77. THE HITCHHIKER’S GUIDE TO THE GALAXY by Douglas Adams
78. A PRAYER FOR OWEN MEANY by John Irving
79. THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO by Alexandre Dumas
80. THE PORTRAIT OF A LADY by Henry James
81. OF MICE AND MEN by John Steinbeck
82. ALL THE KING’S MEN by Robert Penn Warren
83. GO TELL IT ON THE MOUNTAIN by James Baldwin
84. CHARLOTE’S WEB by E. B. White
85. ROBINSON CRUSOE by Daniel Defoe
86. CRIME AND PUNISHMENT by Feodor Dostoevsky
87. THE STAND by Stephen King
88. REBECCA by Daphne du Maurier
89. I, CLAUDIUS by Robert Graves
90. HOWARDS END by E.M. Forster
91. TENDER IS THE NIGHT by F. Scott Fitzgerald
92. THE RAINBOW by D.H. Lawrence
93. BLEAK HOUSE by Charles Dickens
94. ATLAS SHRUGGED by Ayn Rand
95. ABSALOM, ABSALOM! by William Faulkner
96. THE WINGS OF THE DOVE by Henry James
97. AUSTERLITZ by W. G. Sebald
98. THE TRIAL by Franz Kafka
99. WISE BLOOD by Flannery O’Connor
100. FRANKENSTEIN by Mary Shelley

Creative Spark: Your Life Story...

Write your life story in one grammatically correct sentence.

101 Goals in 1001 Days...

I'd love to say I just found this idea online, but I'll admit, I totally was stalking someone through a social networking site. I saw the list they had made of similar goals, which came from this site. If you're reading this and this looks familiar, S, thanks, and I'm sorry I kinda stalked your blog. I'll blogroll you if you see this, but I figured I'd err on the side of letting you have your privacy.

So, 101 goals. 1001 days. I don't even know what day 1001 days from now is, but I'll be 30 years old. I'd love to see anyone else's goals - and if you could be of any help in any of these, please let me know, I'd be happy to return the favor!

Taking the lead from the GRS site, I've categorized these.

Health & Fitness
1. abstain from smoking cigarettes for 365 days in a row.
2. complete a marathon
3. Eat exclusively organic for two weeks in a row.
4. Drink only water for one month.
5. See the dentist and have a clean bill of health twice in one year’s time.
6Do the neti-pot every day for six months straight.
7. Floss every day for one year.
8. Ride a bike 500 miles in one month.
9. Meditate every day for one year.
10. abstain from the tanning bed for 365 days in a row.
11. Get my eyes checked and obtain correct glasses and/or contacts
12. Work out every day for 60 days straight.
13. Do three chin-ups or pull-ups without assistance.


Home & Garden
14. Sell my old Insurance Books.
15. Find out if the microwave is fixable, If it is, fix it.
16. Refinish my wooden antique furniture.
17. Repaint every room in whatever house I live in.
18. Eliminate every “catch-all” junk drawer, basket, folder, bin and box in my house.
19. Plant and raise a garden, even if it’s a window garden.
20. sell my old clothes in the basement to consignment



Financial
21. Turn a profit in art and writing.
22. Pay my dues to my sorority for two years straight.
23. Donate 10% of one year’s income.
24. Pay every bill on time for one year.
25. Get my credit to where I COULD qualify for a home loan.
26. Balance my checkbook on the computer every week for two years.
27. Do my own taxes correctly, but have them double-checked professionally.
28. Save $1000 and don’t touch it until the end of the 1001 days.
29. Become 100% financially independent.
30. Buy one horrendously expensive purse with money that I have earned through art & writing after all that month’s bills are paid.


Personal
31. Get my grandmother’s story on paper.
32. Buy a Wii.
33. Learn to knit and finish one item.
34. Make a quilt.
35. Create and sew an outfit on my own.
36. Make something out of www.bitchyinthecity.com with Celeste.
37. Plant a tree
38. Walk into my favorite stylist and allow them to do ANYTHING they want to my hair.
39. Get on Jeopardy.
40. Design and make a gingerbread house.
41. Make every Christmas present I give without giving presents that suck or leaving anyone out.
42. Take a class on something I know little to nothing about.
43. Write down my life story.
44. Have a tasteful nude photograph taken while I like my body.
45. Train Colonel Mustard to walk off the leash without fear of him running into traffic
46. Meet Dolly Parton.

Self Improvement
47. Donate a day of time to a charity
48. Learn to write HTML & CSS code.
49. Recycle everything possible for three months straight.
50. Use non-disposable bags 50 times instead of plastic or paper.
51. Create ten recipes on my own.
52. Clean out my computer clutter and back everything up outside of the Time Capsule.
53. Give a wedding gift in the appropriate gift-giving window.
54. Learn to speak a foreign language.
55. Stop using a computer for one week straight (the work is still possible, just requires some forethought!)
56. Make a list of five things I am grateful for every day for a year.

Adventure
57. Take a day trip to New York by myself.
58. Hike a mountain.
59. Drive across the country.
60. See Paris, France.
61. Go to a foreign country by myself.
62. Go on a girls’ vacation.

Family
63. Have an argument with a family member without crying.
64. Send birthday cards to every brother, sister, aunt, uncle, cousin, grandparent, close friend and child of the above for one year.
65. Send my mother on a vacation to Greece.
66. Scan pictures of our childhood onto a disk for my mother, father, brothers and sisters.
67. Take all of my brothers and sisters to lunch at the same time.
68. Mow my mother’s lawn for free.

Entertainment
69. See all Oscar-winning movies for best picture.
70. Read the Bible, cover to cover.
71. Complete scrapbook of Italy and Greece trip
72. Go to a movie by myself.
73. Read 100 best book of all time

Professional
74. Update my art resume.
75. Copyright my existing work
76. Create a sculpture.
77. Write a business plan.
78. Create and print postcards and business cards.
79. Do creative sparks every day for a year.
80. Complete an Egg Tempera portrait.
81. Teach someone to draw.
82. Open an Etsy shop.
83. Create a mixed-media piece.
84. Take a figure drawing & critique class.
85. Complete series on quitting your job to do what you love.
86. Complete a self-portrait in oil.
87. Take a watercolor class.
88. Phase out crappy art supplies.
89. 50,000 RSS subscribers.
90. Publish something in a magazine.
91. Publish something in book form.
92. Sell a painting with no commission and no discount.
93. Organize and run a one-woman show.
94. Organize blog for effectiveness – put art on art, etc.
95. Start a business.
96. Print and frame a collection of 30 black and white photographs
97. complete and publish my website
98. Create 75 paintings of fine art – no commissions, no portraits.
99. Write a novel
100. Have my portfolio reviewed by a non-related professional whose opinion I value.
101. Meet every professional deadline for one year.

I have no idea what I'll do with a logo

But I thought I'd make one.

Tired, but not cranky anymore.

I'm better now.

Promise.

I ain't sending y'all any of my pants.

Pardon me, but the idea that one pair of pants can fit Ugly Betty, the Gossip Girl, The Gilmore Girl and the other chick is the dumbest fucking concept for a movie I have ever heard of in my entire life.

Yes. Funk's still here. I'm working on it, sorry. I've brought in reinforcements: a box of Franzia and Breakfast at Tiffany's. If that doesn't work, give me a damn Xanax.

I know, I'm a pain. I'm a pain in my own ass right now.

A clean environment makes a clear mind

After a weekend of cleaning and organizing, I attempted to get back to work while getting the last of the stuff on my list done. Procrastination is not an easy habit to break, I tell you.

I'm working on a couple of pieces that I need to finish before I even think about leaving Philly. It's kind of a tough thing - I know I'm going to still have work up here when I leave, and with gas having jumped 15 cents in the past week with no end in sight, I guess I'm going to be eating a lot of expenses when I'm gone. It's amazing how much you expense when you're working for someone else, but when you're working for yourself, you'll do anything to avoid spending what little money you've got "invested." I put that into quotes because in reality, I'm investing everything I make back into further work. Anyway, I started a couple of things that I'm hoping to get done within the next couple of days so that I can get it off my mind at the very least.

I have a gift card with an art supplies website that I have avoided spending for quite some time. First of all, I usually need art supplies the EXACT day I buy them - I run out to buy something when I discover I'm out of it. With pastels running at $5 a stick, oils upwards of $50 a tube, and paper at $2 a sheet, it adds up...especially when I feel like I waste a lot of materials on stuff that will never see the light of day. Second of all, the website in which I have the gift card is a bit more expensive - leading to a bit of a pickle. Do I spend the giftcard on stuff that I KNOW I could get cheaper locally? Or do I save it for a time when I might find a deal with them? I have no idea.

Aaaaannd now I feel like I'm rambling about nothing. I think I'm in a funk. SOMEone, get me out of it. I need some good news.

Creative Spark: Songs you know by heart

Pick a song you know all the words to.
What color is it?

What happens when you catch up to who goosed you again?

I almost cried when I watched this.

It's just that beautiful.

Results: Procrastination Elimination Staycation

It's 11:40 and my long weekend is just about up. Productive? Sure. Did I get everything done? Jury is out. I wish I could have, but old habits die hard, my friend.

For anyone that cares (the status of my wardrobe shuffling and house-cleaning, while thrilling to me, is probably not breaking news in anyone else's world, I know), this is what got done:

1. Get my winter clothes downstairs in storage. - Done.
2. Put summer clothes upstairs. Sorta done. I'm deciding how much room I actually HAVE in this place for summer clothes. I miss my old closet.
3. Clean the kitchen, living room and bathroom - top to bottom. Done except for the bathroom. That's getting done tomorrow. I hope.
4. Assemble stretcher frames. Yeah right.
5. Write my assignment for the other website I write for - an essay on "I have never been more drunk than that night..." In the editing process.
6. Call my grandmother. Dammit! Tomorrow.
7. Get my friend April a baby gift - any suggestions? Done.
8. RSVP for April's shower (Ha! maybe it will bring may flowers? Kidding, she's due in late June) Ummmm...I already told her, does that count?
9. Clean out the fridge. Done.
10. Start cleaning out the studio. Cold Day in Hell, my friend. A Cold Day in Hell.
11. Get a list of stuff I'm going to sell before moving - anyone want a big-screen? TV, couch.
12. Find the $20 I got out of the ATM the other day. What money?
13. Do some SERIOUS work on this business plan I'm working on. I DID find my workbook from my New Venture Creation class in grad school. That's like halfway there.

Seriously, I thought I had gotten a lot done, but I think I only FINISHED like four of them.

Do I just take on too much? I dunno.

I am, and always will be...a work in progress.

Que Sera...

The Housing Crisis, explained by NPR

Many of you may have read my own little commentary on the housing crisis, addressed from the lowest - and most impactful - level: that of the consumer.

I subscribe to, among many things, This American Life, a podcast that gives you episodes of NPR's outstanding program of the same name. I've been a little behind on recent episodes, and today I listened to one from May 9. It may sound boring to a lot of you, but it's the best one-hour summary I have EVER heard on an economic topic. The episode breaks down - in striking and scary detail - exactly how this crisis occurred. I believe this should be a required lecture for all business students - scratch that - ALL students.

While I still believe that the burden comes down to the borrower in assessing whether or not they can afford a mortgage, I learned a lot from it - specifically, why sub-prime loans were suddenly approved in the early to mid-2000's.

Spend an hour listening to it and you'll think of your finances a lot differently.

Check it out here.

Creative Spark: Color

Get a box of crayons and a coloring book page.
Fill every space in with the "wrong" color.

Memorial Day

I hope everyone had a great Memorial Day. Everyone's doing cookouts, the beach, the lake, or in my case, cleaning the house, and I hope you all had fun.

That being said, please take a minute and remember the REAL reason behind Memorial Day. It's not to kick off summer, it's not for a furniture sale, it's not a reason to buy a lot of beer or rent a shore house, it's to remember the men and women who have given their lives in service for their country. I don't care what your ideas are about this war, the state of our country, or our President - the reality is that there are a lot of people who have gone out and done what most of us don't have the courage to do, losing their lives in the process.

Take some time out of your day to do something to honor them.

Eliminating Procrastination...still 24ish hours left in this holiday weekend.

I'm still working on it. I took my friend Drena's advice and tackled the biggest task first.

Little did I know that many of the others required work at the same time. So it is with cleaning a house.

-Winter clothes are now in the basement. I hate my sweaters now.
-The Laundry Monster has been slain. This is bigger than you think.
-The kitchen, living room and downstairs are clean.
-The bedroom is in the process of being de-cluttered.

Other than that, I haven't really had any time to do any of the other tasks. Actually, I'm lying. I watched about ten episodes of Law & Order SVU. I downloaded and organized some tutorial stuff for Dreamweaver.

I still have 24 hours left in my holiday weekend. Let's pray for the best.

Creative Spark: Let me count the ways...part 2.

Take out the list you made yesterday and look at the final tally. Make a blank list with the same number of items.

Fill in the list with positive attributes of the person you like the LEAST.

Resist the urge to quit.

A note to the Church next door:

Dear Gospel Choir:

It's 1:15 a.m. Molly is sick.

Please shut the fuck up.

Sincerely,
Baby Jesus.

It ain't easy being green with envy.

I am jealous.

Meghan's husband brought her a milkshake when she was sick.
Colonel Mustard has not brought me anything except for a sock he chewed.

This is not fair.

Procrastination Update: T-minus 36 hours or so

I tried to get a little done last night, but there was the whole is-it-the-Judd-I'm-thinking-of saga going on. And I think I'm getting sick. But here's my progress:

5. Write my assignment for the other website I write for - an essay on "I have never been more drunk than that night..."
-I'm about 3/4 of the way done. It's a little long, so editing will take some work.

7. Get my friend April a baby gift - any suggestions?
-homegirl's set. In case she reads this, I'm not posting what it is.

12. Find the $20 I got out of the ATM the other day.
-I found my receipt that has convinced me I already spent it. Darn it.

I'm sick, but I'm going to Cowboy Up.

But for now, I'm going across the street to Whole Foods to get whatever bee-pollen-mystic-hippie smoothie sludge that might help me get through this.

Anyone have any suggestions? Symptoms: my throat started feeling bad yesterday, then my lungs started hurting and now I have congestion. Doctors are for quitters.

Creative Spark: Let me count the ways...

Take a legal pad and list the attributes person you like most in the world. Aim for getting the number of items as high as possible. Put it in a safe place for tomorrow.

What I'm doing on my summer Staycation...

I'm at Starbucks, where I came to get some "work" done. All I'm accomplishing is consuming my 7th cup of coffee and people-watching, but whatever. I am NOT going to the shore, home or out for the weekend, I'm having a Stay-cation. Staying in and getting stuff DONE.

I'm struggling with time management lately. I've always been a procrastinator. Not because I couldn't figure out how to do things, or because I took on too much, but simply because it was possible for me to procrastinate and still succeed. My evidence?

-I never did homework in high school. EVER. I'm not kidding. I was smart enough that I didn't have to do it. The closest I ever came was when I was driving to school every morning - I gave two guys in my neighborhood a ride to school every day, and one of them would sit in the back and call out questions while I gave him the answers. If it didn't require handwriting, he filled out my paper too. If it did, he gave me his paper in homeroom, and I copied it back in my own handwriting during Channel One. Ahhh, Channel One. It was the BEST.
-College? Rarely did it there either. My dad told me the secret to college - which I should have ignored, given the fact that he failed out of Virginia Tech once - was to just GO to class. Even if you didn't take notes, you learned something. At the end of the semester, if you were smart enough, you could basically wing it and at least get a C. I graduated with a 3.75, and I'd consider myself to be a "coaster"...I put it off and did all my work at the end of the semester, cramming like you wouldn't believe.
-Grad school? Yeah, a little different, but it was group work. I had a GREAT group of friends there - we all took the same classes, we always picked each other for groups, and we knew that each of us had strengths. I could put together written materials at 3 am, and I could pick up a presentation and wing it without ever practicing. Celeste was AMAZING at numbers (I seriously am going to hire her to run my business at some point), Kevin was a research guy who actually knew what those databases in the library were, Andrade was great with technology, and John...well, John was just pretty to look at. He kept me sane because I just always wanted to make out with him.
-The corporate world...well, that's the tough one. I was in the wrong profession anyway, and I got scared I'd make mistakes that could feasibly cost millions of dollars.


Now I still procrastinate. I'm scared sometimes that my boss in the site I write for is one day going to say "Molly, it's called DEADLINES. KEEP THEM" or just fire me. Portraits are usually finished at the very.last.moment (just ask my friend Meghan) and I've literally had to send work off to a show on the last possible day to get it postmarked - still wet. I've rarely packed for a trip anything except the day I leave, and I'm famous for finishing my Christmas shopping on Christmas Eve - in the last store open.

So I want to change. I'm trying the ever-present "To Do" list, but I'm making this one public. I want to get these things done this weekend...I will let you know what I get done. If I don't get it done, please come up to Philly and beat me over the head.

1. Get my winter clothes downstairs in storage.
2. Put summer clothes upstairs.
3. Clean the kitchen, living room and bathroom - top to bottom.
4. Assemble stretcher frames.
5. Write my assignment for the other website I write for - an essay on "I have never been more drunk than that night..."
6. Call my grandmother.
7. Get my friend April a baby gift - any suggestions?
8. RSVP for April's shower (Ha! maybe it will bring may flowers? Kidding, she's due in late June)
9. Clean out the fridge.
10. Start cleaning out the studio.
11. Get a list of stuff I'm going to sell before moving - anyone want a big-screen?
12. Find the $20 I got out of the ATM the other day.
13. Do some SERIOUS work on this business plan I'm working on.

That's about it. Seriously, don't let me be a slacker. I wish I could give myself an incentive, like a new something, but unless I find that money in item 12, I can't buy myself anything.

I do not want to be a procrastinator.

I have just noticed...

That my 13-year-old sister is not only taller than me, she has bigger tatas than me.

I am officially the family shrimp.

On a side note, does anyone else remember this? When I was living in the sorority house (for all of five solid minutes), the smokers at the house next door (we'll say it was the house that did NOT catch on fire in the middle of the night, it was the other one) did not realize how their conversations carried. One of them was talking about how she was going to get liposuction that summer (it was her birthday present from her parents!) and another was lamenting the fact that she had no boobies and was considering implants. They then SERIOUSLY hatched a plan to approach the lipo girl's doctor and see if he could cut a deal where they put what he sucked out of her thighs into the boobless girl's chest. No, really, they thought it was possible.

That's all, I'm off to the dog park, I looooooove warm weather.

Art Feature - creative spark of the day.

I haven't had a lot of art postings lately, but I'm getting back to it.
My first step toward this is a daily "spark" to make you think creatively. Be it art, writing, music, whatever, hopefully it will get your mind going when you're staring at that blank canvas, paper or musical instrument. Even if you aren't an artist, it will help you think calmly and clearly throughout the day. I promise

Today's creative spark:

Pick a random picture from a magazine, flickr, or any other source. Don't look at any accompanying caption. Write down everything you see for five minutes. Write down everything about what you don't see for ten minutes. If there's people in the picture, who's taking the picture? What are the people thinking? What do they really want? How did they end up in this picture instead of another? If it doesn't have people in it, why not?

Pick your own, or I'll give you one to start.

Sites I end up on EVERY DAY. How did we ever exist without this?

My friend Drena asked what sites we visit most often, so here ya go. Marketers, a gift to you.

I have about a thousand other sites I visit once a week or so, but these are the heavy hitters...

1. Gmail.
Does this even count as a proper site? It's email. I think we assume that everyone checks their email. Except my mom. She gets on the computer, does the daily crossword, and forgets to check her email. WTF?

2. Facebook.
Actually, I do this more than myspace now. I've found that more people that I never friended on myspace friend me on facebook - people from middle school, people from all over.

3. Myspace.
I can't help it. And yes, I've myspace stalked just about every guy I've ever dated or made out with. And every time I've dated a guy, I've myspace-stalked every girl on their page. Shut up, you do it too.

4. AJC.com
I haven't lived in Atlanta in five years, but Boston and Philly's big journalism comes in papers that are read by people all over the world (the Globe and the Inquirer, respectively), kinda like a mini-New York Times. Like New York, you can get the Cliffs Notes version that's written for absolutely retarded people (the "commuter paper") through the Herald or the Daily News. Both city papers are usually owned by the same media company, and share staff and a website, which caters to the "smarter" paper. As a result, the websites are very news-driven and have very little fun stuff. The AJC is - sorry y'all - written at a lower reading level and has more fun and interesting stories. I'm sorry, I don't mean to imply that Atlanta readers are dumb, but since the Journal and Constitution merged into one daily paper, it's just got a weird hybrid of what they pick to run. They don't care that food tends to be the lead picture on every website opening page or that whole proper grammar and punctuation thing. Henry Grady may be rolling over in his grave and may want to snatch back my degree from his journalism school since I've just insulted his paper, but I think he'd actually agree with me upon reflection. So yes, I read the AJC's website still for little news stuff.


5. Bloomberg.com
Leftover from Graduate School. Sometimes I pick a random stock I think will do well based on their news and follow it for a couple weeks. I'm usually right, but the same as you should never trust a skinny chef, never trust a broke-ass artist for financial advice.

6. CNN.com
Less often than I used to. When I dated a guy who got deployed I finally had to get my friend to password protect it and block it on the TV. You'll drive yourself nuts if you're worried about someone.

7. Craigslist.com - Missed Connections.
Check them for your city and you'll start doing it every day. You'll learn some interesting things...things like the fact that there's about 10 billion people who are in love with a redhead clerk at the Whole Foods near me, there's a pervert on UPenn's campus, and hipsters all swear they don't read CL, but they do. Come to think of it, you'll learn a lot if you peruse ALL of your city's Craig's List for 45 min or so. Be sure to hit "best of Craig's List".

8. What Would Tyler Durden Do?, The Superficial, Go Fug Yourself, Project Rungay, Perez Hilton, etc...
I'm trying to wean myself of these. But sometimes I love me some celebrity gossip.

9. Wet Canvas.
It's mostly a forum for artists, leans toward the hobbyist side of it. I'm getting tired of it, actually, I'm probably taking it off my tabs.

10. RSS reader
Pulls the new stuff from lots of different blogs I enjoy into one source. When I've read it, it deletes it unless I ask it to save it. It really helps to cut down on time spent surfing.

11. Finally, my friends' stuff.

I'm now scared to death to live alone.

Before I begin my scary story, I should warn you. It may be TMI. I have no problem talking about it - please, my roommate is a nurse, talking about bodily functions stopped bothering me a LONG time ago. Unless I hear about poop or periods while I'm eating, I'm okay with just about any story.

That being said, it's actually not that bad in terms of the level of TMI.

Remember that episode of Sex and the City where Miranda throws out her back in the shower and has to wrangle herself to the phone, completely naked, and Carrie sends Aidan over to help her? No, that didn't happen. But after it happens, Miranda suddenly realizes that if she died in her apartment, they'd discover her body, half-eaten by her cat, weeks later - solely because the neighbors complained about the smell. I think this scenario could be entirely possible with me.

I left the house about an hour ago to go across the street to CVS. I have - here's the TMI - a Urinary Tract Infection. No, silly, it's not transmitted through shenanigans. They happen for all kinds of reasons. But at any rate, I hate taking antibiotics, and I avoid the doctor at all costs since Aetna tripled my co-pay. So I went in and talked to the pharmacist (they're as close as I usually get to the doctor) and told her that I wanted to avoid having to get an antibiotic, that I'm healthy and clean and think I could get rid of it via something natural or over the counter. She recommended an analgesic (pain reliever) plus an antibacterial ingredient, which I easily found. As she's ringing me up, she says "take two of these with a glass of water and if it doesn't work in 2 days, go to the doctor." I think I'm golden.

I walk back across the street to my house, opening the box as I'm walking. The pills are in my hand as I open the door, and I pop them while I'm walking upstairs.

Sound like a normal activity?

The pills are apparently the kind that INSTANTLY blow up in your throat. And I've just swallowed two. I start choking on them. Honest-to-god, no coughing, no air, just a feeling like someone's strangling me. Colonel Mustard goes bonkers. Barking like crazy. Great that he knows something is wrong, but unless the people I rescued him from taught him the heimlich maneuver, I'm SOL.

I am panicking. I literally thought my eyes were going to pop out of my head. Went to the railing and threw myself over, desperately trying to recall the lifeguard training that I dropped out of halfway through. I was too short for this railing, and only managed to bruise a rib or two. Finally, I looked over to the coffee table on the third-floor landing and saw a big jar candle from Yankee candle. I turned it upside-down, braced it on the arm of the sofa, and just tried to get it up from the gut like you see the Heimlich on TV.

Second try's a charm. Both pills, now resembling giant pieces of sponge, fly across the room at about 60 miles an hour.

Yes, you throw up when you choke. I barely made it to the bathroom. My face was red, my eyes were bloodshot, and my whole head was swollen.

The Colonel was still barking for about ten minutes until he realized I was okay, and now he won't let me go more than six inches from his stinky breath.

I'm fine now, but seriously, it scared the SHIT out of me. Really, what happens if I fall down the stairs? My roommate and I are rarely at home and awake at the same time - she works nights and is out of town right now. If she found me after I fell down the stairs, it could have been a matter of days...if I'm still alive, I've been laying there for days! The Colonel might have peed on me, like on that episode of Weeds!

I've always liked living alone. I like my Molly time. I was independent from a very early age, and I like doing whatever I want, whenever I want. I am getting to the age where I'm too old to have a roommate that's not my significant other, and everyone I would consider living with is either married, owning their own home, or in a place where I don't want to live. I'm probably going to end up living alone when this lease is up, regardless of where I go. But yes, I'm even more scared now that no one would even find me if I were to die in my house alone. My family and I talk on occasion, but not on an ongoing and consistent basis - my sister-in-law and brother even joke that she could murder him and no one would notice until he didn't respond to an email about Christmas.

Seriously, check on me every once in a while.

I have an agreement with a couple of my friends that should the worst happen and I get hit by a SEPTA bus, they are under orders to break into my house and clean out all the stuff I don't want my mom to see if she had to clean out my house. If you can't get ahold of me, call my cousin Kate and set the plan in motion.

I read the box and found out that yes, you have to drink a full glass of water with it. Stupid Molly.

And finally, yes, I am fine. Actually laughing about it. I won't go dying on you any time soon.

Designing my own bid-ness card

Look what I did!

I put x's on the contact info because there's apparently spammers and telemarketers who patrol blogs, but here you go...

Let me know what you think.

Twitter trivia answer and bonus related Delta Gamma trivia

I've been asked by a couple of random people about my recent twitter entry:

Trivia question: what's the connection between University of Georgia's fight song and mother's day? 06:59 PM May 11, 2008 from txt

Answer?

Julia Ward Howe is credited as being the first person to declare a "Mother's Day" in her Mother's Day Proclamation, written in 1870 as a form of protest against the violence of the Civil War that had resulted in thousands of mothers having lost their sons.

Howe also wrote the words to William Steffe's "Battle Hymn of The Republic", a popular song among both Union and Confederate supporters in the Civil War. Steffe's tune was later used for the University of Georgia's fight song, "Glory, Glory". Had it not been for Howe's words making the tune popular, Georgians might not have ever adopted it as their fight song.

Bonus form of trivia for Delta Gammas: When I lived in Boston, I helped the Boston University chapter out with rush (sorry y'all, I just can't call it recruitment, it sounds so...corporate), and one of their biggest Service for Sight activities was working for the Perkins School for the Blind - Helen Keller's alma mater - about 12 blocks from my old house. Perkins was founded by Julia Ward Howe's father and her children were instrumental in making service for the blind Delta Gamma's official philanthropy.

Yes, I know, my Service for Sight hours were sparse, at best. In retrospect, I wish I had done more stuff like that instead of insisting on graduating in exactly four years. Taking 18 hours and 2 independent studies my last semester was probably the dumbest mistake eeeeeevvvvverrrrrr.

Quote of the day...

"Beware of all enterprises that require new clothes."

-Henry David Thoreau

This is good advice. If I had a nickel for every business suit that I had to buy three years ago, only to be sitting in my basement, untouched, since September...well, I would have more than three dollars in my checking account. Actually, no. I'd have one more sundress and a lot more storage space.

Oprah is stupid when she says she "doesn't like surprises". They're GREAT.

I truly love a few things in this life. Crunchy Cheez-Doodles, brownies, Nicole Miller cocktail dresses, Paige jeans, Country Music and vintage leather jackets are high on the list.

What do I love MOST?

SURPRISES.

If I were an anthropologist I'd argue that the giving of presents - not the use of tools, mating for life, or feelings of love and sadness - is what really sets us as human beings apart from all other animals. Gorillas use tools, dogs can feel love, Canada geese mate for life, and chimpanzees can feel sadness. But humans? We give each other presents. I love getting, giving or even just watching people open presents. At Christmas, I drive myself crazy trying to find presents that delight their recipients upon being opened.

But it's not the element of being happy to receive something that one wants or needs that I like. It's the surprise. I drive myself crazy at Christmas because I want to find something that the person would have NEVER picked for themselves. I think it runs in the family - my uncle Rob (the only other lefty in my family), my cousin Jake and my grandmother all are known for giving crazy gifts that one stares strangely at upon opening - but those gifts turn out to be the greatest things ever. Jake gave his sister Kate got one of those milk crates that collapses and has wheels attached for Christmas one year. While she was a little confused when opening it, that girl has used that thing more often than you'd ever think. A couple of years ago, I gave my brother Parker a most unusual gift. It was a cast iron dog - but just the rear end. Meant as a garden decoration, sit it on the floor and you've got a great piece of art and a nice doorstopper. Parker loves weird stuff, but everyone else in the family was a little ticked off - because I didn't give it to THEM. My older brother got the same thing the next Christmas.

My love of surprises extends to the fact that I detest giving gift cards or cash. I love getting them, don't get me wrong, they WORK and I have bills to pay. But like a true Southerner, I consider it tacky for me to carry around a purse at my wedding, collecting wads of money. Where I come from, you get in line at that damn gift registry kiosk at Macy's like everyone else and look for the biggest item that costs the least amount of money. I have a monopoly on giving trifle bowls at this point. And by the way, I know I owe a few wedding gifts. I'm working on it.

But alas...I'm a January birthday, I'm not even dating anyone, let alone being close to engaged, and if I show up at the Babies-R-Us registry, call the Vatican, because it'll be an immaculate conception. Well, immaculate since a little while back, at least. Unless I go pull a Carrie Bradshaw and register at Manolo Blahnik for being single (which I'm tempted to do at times), I am not getting any gifts any time soon. I can buy myself presents, but that's not a surprise. Plus I really don't have the money to buy what I REALLY want and need.

What's a girl to do?

I found it.

The Something Store.

I am not kidding, and no one's paying me to write this. The concept is simple. You give them $10, and they send you something. You don't know what it is, but what they've been sending out looks to be worth more than $10. Since they want repeat business, I'm guessing they won't send you a dirty diaper or something, but something you might find useful.

So I ordered one this morning. Free shipping and everything.

I'll let you know when it comes. If I like it, I might give people somethings for Christmas.

Why didn't I think of this idea before they did?

Writing a blog is like potato chips: you can't stop at one.

I'm using this as my "catch-all" blog for a while. As you can tell, it's got Art, Writing, Dogs, Dating, Funny Stories, Dumb Stuff Molly Does, Stuff Molly Rants About, and all kinds of stuff. But as you may have noticed in the blogosphere, most successful blogs have a narrow focus. Since this is was started because I was bored, continued because my editor wanted to see a larger portfolio, and will primarily continue in the future to amuse my friends, I'm going to be branching out in several smaller blogs that can target specific audiences. My editor is weighing what I'm best in, both in writing style and attention-grabbing abilities.

What does this mean for you? Nothing, actually. I'm still doing this in the same manner. I'm just taking my drafts (I have 234 drafts on here that have never been published for various reasons) and building on them on a separate space.

What are the other blogs going to be about? That's up in the air. I'm a woman of many brain cells. I've been trying to be unique about it (the world does not need another blogger who thinks they're the Female Version of Tucker Max, nor another "independent-leaning" political commentator) and I'm trying to just not have the damn thing taken so seriously. Because really - if you're using my blog or any other as your sole source of news and/or opinion, I suggest you stop. Half of everything I say is with a heaping dose of sarcasm, and I have not yet found the article in the Little, Brown Handbook on how to properly denote sarcasm in the written word. Finally, I want to have things that I find inherently interesting. If I could write about stuff I find mundane and boring, I'd have pursued my initial Newspaper Journalism major a lot further than Freshman Year.

So here's what I'm coming up with - would you read any of these?
-In the Hall, with the Lead Pipe: Giving ole Colonel Mustard a voice. He's got a good point of view, and has only three goals in this world: get food, get snuggling, get walked. And he deals with my crap on a daily basis, which is more than I can say for most.
-Blog Boy, I am in love with you.: I have been surfing blogs and have developed insane crushes on a few boys that blog. Odd, because they're sort of celebrities, but not really. I would be willing to say that I find a new one every day. Thinking of offering a $100 reward if someone sets me up on a date with one of them.
-The Daily Crackhead: I have numerous crackheads outside my house in Philly. Their lives are shouted at 3 am for all to hear, and it's more entertaining than the Young and The Restless.
-Confessions of a Hypochondriac: WebMD is the worst thing ever invented. The Today Show tells me of a condition of which I am positive that I am a victim almost every day. My headaches, turned into brain tumors. Just about every day.
-Dear Reality Star: My commentary on dumb reality shows. Because really, Lauren Conrad, I know better. I just want to help you get your shit together.
-Craigs List Treasure of the Day: I love that site. It's endless entertainment.

I could go on and on, but I need to get to work on some paintings.

If you can't say something nice, then just come sit next to me...

I have been debating telling this story for a little while now...it's secondhand, and I rarely, if ever, talk to the participants involved. I dated the officemate of the person involved for a little while, and he'd probably be really pissed off at me for telling the story.

But I don't care. It's too funny.

I dated R. when I lived in Boston, in the spring of 2005. I was leaving Boston after my graduation in May, and we basically lost touch and ended it there. This past summer, he and his girlfriend broke up for good, I got dumped by my boyfriend, and we decided to keep in closer contact again. He came to visit me in Philly, I went to Boston for a weekend after that, and I went to an event with him at his alma mater in Massachusetts. Hung out briefly in New York in December and never saw each other again until recently when he was in Philly on business. No, we're not dating, and won't again now that I'm moving further South. But at any rate.

R. had introduced me to his officemate, S., back last summer. She's a smart girl, more attractive than not, and is very outgoing. That being said, she kinda had the "brother-sister" syndrome going on with R. I suspected that she liked him herself - really, he is by far the best-looking man I have ever met in person - but I have never been one to compete, and I knew she's not the kind of girl that R. goes for. She didn't seem to take to me when I visited, and basically kind of was a little mean to me whenever I talked to her. She'd ignore me, contradict what I'd say, blah blah blah. But overall, she was one of those "I'm one of the guys" girls. You know what I'm talking about, the one that actually wins the fantasy baseball league thing at the office, the one that could beat up half the men in the office, the one who drinks the CEO under the table. Does the crazy stuff for attention that the male class clown would have done in high school.

Anyway, R. came to Philly for a conference and told me this little gem: R and S are out socially for a wedding of a coworker. They've all had many drinks, and S decides to slide down the banister from the second floor of a very large lobby. S jumps on the banister, and in a scene I can only imagine, she falls BACKWARD from the top of the stairs onto the first floor lobby.

I should pause here - I do not in any way wish this girl harm. Again, I have heard many good things about her, she's just never warmed to me. I can imagine why - she's protective of R and may have liked him herself. I'm not in the market of wishing this girl bodily injury or death.

End pause.

S. falls 17 feet and miraculously avoids death and paralysis. She broke both her arms. I didn't hear this story until R. was in town and an industry colleague - no, not even from the same company - brought up the accident at a cocktail party.

I managed my best "gosh, that's awful" but was thinking "You stupid idiot, I used to handle DEATH claims where people had fallen shorter distances!" R. told me she was okay, but a lot of people had heard about the accident and it was sort of a story that wouldn't die with S. I dropped the topic, because R. is also slightly protective of S.

And then I ran home to tell my roommate the story. My roommate, an ER trauma nurse, has a way of associating humor in death-and-dismemberment situations. I'm guessing you have to in order to get through that sort of job. I tell her the story in as great of detail as I can muster, and just when I think the story can't get any more ironic, my roommate sheds some light on the injuries that S had:

"you know, Molly, that totally means that she had to get someone to wipe her ass for her."

I am evil. But THAT is funny.

61,000 miles worth of adventure.

A big milestone for me today: My car is now officially mine.

I never had a car loan until I got this car, and quite honestly, I got talked OUT of paying it off. I don't have credit cards, I don't borrow money, and I hate loans. Quite honestly, I feel like my granddaddy did about money: If you can finance it, you can't afford it.

That being said, my 2000 Jeep Grand Cherokee Laredo is for sale. I'm getting something and paying for it in cash, actually downsizing in cars. Probably another Jeep Wrangler.

It feels like the passing of an era. When I bought this car, I was leaving Atlanta to move to Boston. I was positive I was going to marry my now-ex-boyfriend, I had short hair, and I was getting ready to get a job in sales. Fast forward 45 payments, I'm living in Philly, getting ready to move to Lynchburg, have long hair and am working in art.

Go figure.

Pictures from home

I just took these for the hell of them, so don't expect a professional job here. As usual, I brought a camera with me everywhere when I went out with my friends but I don't have ONE single picture of going out with all of them. I'll be back in June so I'll get some of those done then.

Taken on the drive home, between DC and Charlottesville. This, my friend, is Virginia's version of the OC. Orange County, Virginia. God's country for sure, but no big McMansions here. Horse farms and people who want to get out of the busy life.















Route 29 South between Charlottesville and Lynchburg. I *think* this is Afton Mountain, which is near Wintergreen, our version of ski country. Always a beautiful view.












View on the way to my mom's house - the edge of the Blue Ridge Parkway and the Peaks of Otter. They're no Rocky Mountain high, but they're where I grew up.












I went to my brother's soccer game, this is the same stadium I played in. It's been improved, but it's still the same old JF.








At the lake in my new hat.















At my dad's lake house. It was kind of a bad weather kind of day, but it looks pretty. I can't wait for warmer weather. The big steamboat-like thing is the Virginia Dare, it's docked by my house and goes out for dinner cruises. I've suddenly realized that I've never been on it. It reminds me of the Stone Mountain formal cruise we took one year for my sorority in college. I don't think the Dare does quite as booze-filled cruises as that, but I still want to do it.

I'm losing my touch.

My friend Chris said I was street smart last week. Chris, I am just now remembering that that statement was made after a few shots of whiskey - I am NOT street smart. While I graduated from graduate school with a 4.0 GPA and college in the 3.75 range, I am amazed at how I don't even notice some things that are right in front of my face.

Case in Point: Loie, the bar that serves drama free of charge with their high-priced drinks.

One of my friends celebrated her 30th birthday Saturday night, and we all gathered at Loie to give Ansley's 20s the so long, the farewell, and the good night. I had been driving back from Virginia since the morning, and I hadn't had anything to eat since my friend John had made me some good old-fashioned country breakfast at 9 am. I needed alcohol and something to keep me awake, so I went for what had worked in Vegas:

Cocaine.

I KID! I KID!

I got Red Bull & Vodka. It worked, I woke up and lost the crankiness. But the downside - the fact that I drank the sweet concoction faster than a Kennedy before last call - was lost on my exhausted body and mind. I got drunk FAST. I was upstairs at Loie, which is this cute little Urban-French-hipster kind of place that I usually know I might get a "Molly, settle down" comment thrown my way. I knew most of the people at the party peripherally, and there were a few that trickled in from the general public. I honestly couldn't see people that well - it's so hip, they make it dark so that EVERYONE looks skinny and ominous. I end up kind of in this nook beside the bar, and I'm next to a guy who I don't even notice or care to look at. He turns to me and says "Hi Molly, how are you?"

I think he's one of Ansley's friends, but I'm busy watching some other people across the wall get another round of shots for a few of us. I try to weasel out of the conversation, as I had no desire to pick up Philly dudes at the bar. I said "good, thanks" and that's about it. He looked at me and says "do you remember me? I think you hate me and I probably owe you and a couple of people an apology..."

Now, I don't hate anyone. Yes, I think poorly of people, but hate is a strong word. I reply "I'm sorry, what's your name again? I can't hate you THAT much if I don't know who you are."

"George."

Right. Scratch that. I do hate people. Well, him. I have good reason to hate him. No, it's not a "he broke up with me" bullshit story - we have seen each other less than ten times in our entire lives. Matter of fact, it's not so much ME that hates him - a couple of people close to me are the ones who'd love to have a crack at him. I don't want to go into what happened, because some people I love would be greatly hurt if I told the whole story. Put it this way. Four friends, two cousins, my mom and my shrink know the true extent of why I hate George, and they agree. He is not even pond scum, because pond scum implies that evolutionary change has taken place. He's in Med School to be a cardiac surgeon - I ask that if you ever need heart surgery, look at the first name of your surgeon and holler at me. I will confirm or deny the last name and personally help you find another doctor and then we will go key his car or something.

Yes, that is how much I hate George. Fucker.

But at any rate. I heard him say his name and carefully weighed my options, of which the following came to mind:

1. Dump the nearest beverage on his head, ala my friend Mary in a Delaware Grotto's Pizza circa 2005.
2. Kick him in the testicles.
3. Stand on the bar and scream to the bar the whole story of why I hate him.
4. Insert other action here that would certainly get me kicked out of a bar, but not necessarily arrested.

I was wasted, but I had to do something. Because that's how I roll.

I chose option 5. Give a dirty look and walk away.

Yes, I've lost my mojo. I didn't even recognize him until he told me his name, which told me that I was more drunk than I had previously believed, and I was at my friend's party, which I did not want to ruin. She lives in Miami now and will probably have a baby in the next year or so. I didn't want to be the anecdote that she tells her mom friends of why she's so happy that she left the single or childless world behind.

I did, however, proceed to text message said asshole a few things that may come back to haunt me later in life. Namely, one in particular that said "Just so you know, you are the one person that I hope dies a fiery death. Soon."

Dipshit texts me back: "lets talk tamarow theres two sides to every story."

George. First of all, it's "tomorrow". Second of all, it's "there's". I think you skipped class the week they taught grammar, spelling and punctuation in medical school. Look into scheduling a make-up session.

I did send him another text message laced with angrier comments. But I'm still a little pissy at myself for not going whole-hog on that one. I'm mainly pissed off that I was so unobservant that I didn't even see him until he was RIGHT in front of my face. I'll be more prepared than this in the future.

I've been out in Philly approximately three times in the past six months, and I've seen him three times. No, he didn't talk to me the next day, nor did I want to hear his crap. We'll meet again, George. I suggest you run.

Because I want to think fondly of Ansley's birthday, here ya go.

Well Done, Bentley.

I love good branding. No, not where you burn the side of a cow, but the kind where good advertisers can evoke the message they want. I especially love branding when you don't even have to show the product - the consumer just KNOWS. Because ad man is THAT GOOD.

Everybody dies famous in a small town...

I'm waiting for some pasta to boil right now - my mom conned me into attempting cooking - so if I get distracted by this and you hear of some crazy house fire in Virginia, tell the firemen to rescue the dogs.

I went to the lake last night, stayed there today and attempted to get a tan with a couple of friends that came over. No real color that I can see. I miss the days when I could afford the tanning bed, although I'm desperately trying to accept my pale natural self. Honestly, I just feel better with a tan, mentally and physically. I got a cowboy hat for a reason the other day - I want to start making myself wear a sun hat in the sun instead of frying myself in the face as well. Yes, that's right, cancer doesn't scare me (just ask the pack of Parliament Lights that comes out on occasion) but WRINKLES - well, when you start screwing with vanity, I listen. So I look slightly trampy laying out in a bikini and a cowboy hat. It's a sweet hat, though, so I don't mind. When I find my camera cord I'll post the pictures.

In case people are wondering, yes, I'm considering moving back to Lynchburg. I moved to Philly for a reason - I had a job there in insurance. While I still have a job there, it's more or less something that travels with me, so I have nothing really tying me to the area anymore. I don't want to raise kids up north (IF I ever have them, and the way things are in this dating market, I wouldn't place a bet in Vegas on kids happening for me), and my roommate will be buying a house and moving to Delaware in the fall. So I will most likely have to move SOMEWHERE. Lynchburg is a better option than it used to be, both because I've gotten older and the city has gotten bigger. So I end up wrestling with the idea. On one hand, it's a slower way of life, much cheaper, lots of family here, and has an art community that I could carve my way into fairly easily through connections. BUT. Last night on the lake it was so quiet I got genuinely creeped out. I got worried that if I go here there's going to be very few people here my age and I'll end up some crazy old lady with 4,000 cats. I'm afraid that I'll end up a hermit. I'm too pretty to end up like that, I'm sorry, but I am. And I'm allergic to cats.

Who knows. My grandmother and dad are all on the convince-Molly-to-come-home bandwagon, and my mom is basically supportive of whatever I want to do. I think it just sort of sucks to pick a place to move to when you don't have like an actual excuse to move there, be it a job, a guy, or for school. No one just picks out Sheboygan and says "let's go!"

I don't know, I think I'm looking for a reason. A sign. An Omen. Someone send me one.

Help bring April's cat to the states...

My friend April moved back home from New Zealand and is all lonely without her kitty cat...she's having her first baby in June and is currently trying to raise $2,000 to get her cat shipped here - yes, it costs that much, mostly because of quarantine laws, I suppose.

Click on this link to chip in to bring her back. You can pay via a secure paypal transaction, and though it's not tax deductible, it will give you warm fuzzies all day. Even $5 can help, and you can read all the cute reasons why Nala needs to become a world traveler.

Update from the country...

Life definitely runs a lot slower down in the Blue Ridge. I got home around 8 on Saturday night and got extremely dee-runk with my friend Marybeth, who is married and lives in a part of town that I had never really navigated growing up - if you lived in that part of town, you went to Heritage High School, not E.C. Glass. I think it's pretty strange sometimes that I barely even knew this part of town, yet if it were the same distance from me in any other city I've ever lived in, I'd know it like the back of my hand.

Anyway, I got in and went to a couple of bars with Marybeth, her husband and a girl named Carrington, who went to high school with but I hadn't particularly hung out with before. It was fun, had a few beers and then I met up with some friends from my graduating class at a late-night party. One friend had gotten back from Iraq in February and I hadn't seen him since then, so I came to see him in particular, but ran into a guy named Chris. I've now concluded he is the Dick Clark of Lynchburg - he doesn't age at ALL. He and I are both those people that get carded for EVERYthing.

It's kind of weird how we've gotten out of touch with some people from high school days, then reconnected with others along the way. If you asked me in 1997 to predict who I would lose touch with for 11 years, it wouldn't have been Chris - I used to give him and his friend Courtney a ride to school every day my last year of high school, and the three of us took summer school together that year as well. But when I left for Georgia, we all lost touch, though not from any sort of argument or falling-out. Just never ran in the same circles. Fast forward 11 years, I show up at a party where I used to date one of the guests, and it's like a time machine back to the late '90s.

Yesterday, nursing a rather large hangover-slash-physical-exhaustion, I decided to go down the county roads and visit with my friend John, who I also hadn't seen since 1997. We had recently "friended" each other on facebook and got to talking a couple weeks ago, where I learned he's an artist as well and lives in this awesome little house in the woods a little bit aways from my mom's house. We had a couple of beers, watched the heavy rain let up for a while and he showed me the property, complete with a separate little party house (he's an electrician as well, so it's a pretty well-outfitted playhouse-slash-fort) and a massive studio in his basement. His artwork is a lot of handmade furniture - I wish I had the knowledge to do stuff like that. I'd post pictures if I had them, but that's kind of a scary thing - having someone photograph your studio. I rarely even let people see mine. Great little visit to see him though - I got to drive the back roads home when the weather was nicer and I sort of kicked myself for hating the area so much when I was growing up - you just don't see nature like this up in Philly.

I love my life, but sometimes it's nice to see things from that slower back-where-I-come-from perspective. I love hearing 10 radio stations of country music, seeing antique stores on every corner, getting beer in a grocery store for once, seeing mountains wherever you turn, and talking with people who just have less of a wall in them that's built as a result of city life. I don't think I've locked a car or house since I hit the Virginia line.

I'm going out to lunch with my dad right now, and then I'm finally hitting the western store to get myself a HAT. Not a baseball cap, not a stocking cap, but a real live cowboy hat. Mine got stolen when I threw a party a few years ago and I'm itchin' to replace it.

An Idiotmatic Expression in the English language.

When a pregnant woman orders a drink that contains all of the elements of a big-girl drink except the alcohol, she orders it "virgin".

This seems stupid.

She obviously ain't no virgin.


yes, I know the proper word is "idiomatic". Quit the hate mail, grammar police.

Contest! Win cool stuff!

Another contest, folks.

Help me come up with a cool domain name for my blog.
I own the following:

www.mollyharrington.com (artwork site)
www.bitchyinthecity.com (Celeste's and I's venture into gossip that the world hasn't ever seen)
and of course my old landlord's namesake for shits and giggles.

Since none of those will work, I need something with the following criteria:

-Available for $9.99 or less.
-dot com domain name
-short and sweet. less than 10 letters before the .com
-made-up words are acceptable, but it's a know-it-when-I-see-it thing.
-easy to remember
-looks good in a logo
-is free from really offensive connotations, but can still push the envelope
-is indicative of my blog's content.

Email (do not post - crazy scammers patrol these things and look for names to buy that people talk about) your suggestions to me.

I have no idea what you win. I'll think of it when I drive home, but it'll be cooler than the other side of the pillow.

I'm showing restraint from TMI

But I'd like to just state for the record:

Being a woman sucks.

I don't think you're ready for these jellies

And by jellies, I mean those stinky-ass shoes we wore in the 80's.

I'm a member at a site called Stumbleupon.com. See that little thumbs up button down there? That's it. It's great for finding non-crap sites that are tailored to your interests. Surfing the internet aimlessly is streamlined with stumbleupon. I love it.

Anyway, I posted a link to my blog there the other day and have gotten - for the most part - normal, run of the mill stuff. A lot of artists helping artists, trading gallery invites, etc.

However, I got THIS tonight. I think it speaks for itself. And my shoes are not for sale.

Bootlicker503

bootlicker is a single guy from Portland, Oregon, USA.

Likes 247 pages, 3 videos, 5 photos • 11 fans • Received 6 reviews

Member since Apr 13, 2008

Hi! I am a submissive male with a high heel and boot fetish. I'm always interested in purchasing women's worn out heels and boots.

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Hi! I would seriously love to buy a pair of your well-worn shoes or boots!