Question: What smells like salad bar?

Answer: Me.

Today I oiled my hair. It has been quite dry from over-highlighting so I have stopped for the time being (please note the new color, longtime fans of my plumage!). In an effort to condition, I decided to use Olive Oil. I read somewhere, or maybe imagined, that this will be good for my hair. I left it on for about 3 hours while I did chores and thought of dirty things I could say to Jamwall.

After washing, I blew-dry and voila! the results far exceed my expectations.




Damn, my mane is a cascade of spun gold. Deal with it, lesser peoples!!!

I wonder what other uses this oil could have. Dry skin? Cleaning? Cooking, perhaps?

The Alphabet Meme

This is a repost (originally posted in July 2006). I like it.

I borrowed this idea from my secret lovah, but I also changed it rather drastically because some of the terms restricted me too much. Like my breasts, my ideas need to be free to bounce. Maybe this meme will spread across the internets and I will be famous!!!

I doubt.

But here it is, in all its glory!

A
Always: Trying to live my best life, my most authentic and honest life.
Average: In most ways, except for intelligence and beauty, wittiness, talent, and charm. Otherwise, I'm in the 50th percentile.
Annoyance: People who walk around with their wireless headsets on. Especially if they are talking into them. Today, on my errands, I became one of those people. I hate myself.
Age: Physical -- 37. Mental -- I'll forever be 17.

B
Best Friends: My sisters, San-San, and Elle. Fabulous girls who bring out the best in me.
Beer: Never again.
Birthday: 11.5
Boast: I can play the Bumblebee Tuna Song on the harmonica; I taught myself.

C
Crush: My favorite song by Dave Matthews. Also, Johnny Depp. Also, Jamwall and Jiggs, the bread in my SG-n-cheese sandwich.
Car: Noisy, necessary.
Candy: Not a fan. Cheesecake? Yes.
Cry: When I need to, usually into my pillow.

D
Days: Spent out of doors remind me that I am alive.
Dream: Of swimming underwater, breathing. Of flying, low to the ground, after a running start. Then crashing into a shrub.
Dare: To cross Long Island Sound in a 6' rowboat; to jump from a 40' cliff into the Ligurian Sea. To travel for weeks at a time. To fly in a hot air balloon. To go on safari. To live in Australia. One of those I will never do, and all of them I will tell my mom about long after they happened.
Drug: Of choice --- cheddar. Drugs are bad! Listen to Nancy Reagan! Never was into powders, pills & plants smoked or otherwise imbibed. Alcohol? Ask me later and I'll tell you the story again.

E
Easy: To see the positive in almost any situation.
Eggs: every day, almost. Hard boiled, on toast. No, scrambled. Oooh, with cheese & tomato.
Email: constant.
Envy: A sprite with short blond hair and a boyish body. Why is that?

F
Flavors: fresh herbs, good balsamic vinegar, sea salt.
Favorites: at the moment ... toast with jam and James Blunt. My kayak. My black sandals. Spray tan.
Flaws: Temper, venom, pride.
Finicky: about seeds. No caraway, please. Flax? Too slippery. Poppy? Maybe. Sesame!

G
Grateful: To be fully & wholly alive.
Gifts: Music, humor, the written word.
Gum: Orbit. Trident. Altoid peppermint.
Gross: The squished mouse on the road, the drowned earthworm on the asphalt. Bear smell. Dog shit.

H
Hair: I should shave it off to curb my own vanity. As if I could. It is a glorious mane.
Height: I see all your house-dust, above the places where you could reach. Also your dandruff and down your neckline to your nipples, even meaning not to.
Happiest: Near water.
Hate: Do I hate anything? Caraway seeds, but we covered that. I hate being lied to and being ignored.

I
Ice Cream: Ben & Jerry's Mint Oreo, or whatever you are serving at the moment. Except bubblegum. Ew.
Instrument: Piano. Guitar. Voice. Mind.
Idols: Barbara Kingsolver. Carl Sagan. Stephen King.
Independence: Does not come easily. Value the work that went into it.

J
Jewelry: Silver mostly. Almost never a watch. Dragonfly necklace.
Jail: A great place to meet guys. A fun place to learn how to take what you're dealt. In my opinion, you've made some really big mistakes if you end up incarcerated. Easy for me to judge, living on this side of the law & my good luck.
Jenga: I really hate this game.
Jammies: 24-7. Unless I need to go out.

K
Kids: Are really cute until they are about 9.
Karaoke: Is for drunk people & people who can actually sing.
Kicks: Soccer, rugby, climbing, swimming
Kiss: Would be nice.

L
Longest ...: Night of my life --- lost in the woods in Ontario, sleeping on a granite rock, in the pouring rain.
Love: What else is there?
Life: Just this one time around. Don't f*** it up.
Lost: Something important that I thought was dispensable, at the time.

M
Milk: Icy cold, with hot fresh brownies. 2%.
Miss: Noun: My title at work ("Miss G"); verb: a daily emotion. Miss my cat, my childhood, my old house, my grandfather, my old boyfriend, my old room, a certain tree, the way the sky looked that one day.
Movies: Not as fun as they used to be because most people are assholes.
Memory: The fox that ran across the road and pounced high into the air then straight down, both paws on a mouse.

N
Nails: Short as I can stand them
No: To skydiving. I don't care if I should do it once. I will never do it. What? I'm a wuss? Fine. A wuss who loves & respects the inevitability of gravity. See how I lie on my belly and kiss the ground. Ooooh, sweet gravity. Come here & lay a big dirt smooch on me.
Name: Muthana
Never: To hang-gliding either. See above.

O
Ordinary: My expectations regarding most things.
One: The number of times I will let you hurt my feelings.
Office: The best show on TV.
Only: A word that helps me to expect less and to be patient.

P
Pet Peeves: Huge gums. Snapping gum. Cracking knuckles. Tailgaters.
Primal urge: to break something so utterly that it can never be repaired.
Personality: so much more important than anything else.
Pain: An everyday reality.

Q
Quick: to laugh, to judge, to respond, to change my mind, to smile, to think of an alternative
Quirk: I suck rocks for the salty taste.
Qualms: About staying put. About changing.
Quest: To leave a thumbprint on your life.

R
Reason to ...: forgive. That we're all just doing the best we can.
Reality TV: The bane of intelligence, and my secret pleasure. Yes, I watched every single episode of Temptation Island.
Rage: A blinding red streak that I have not seen in a very long time.
Regret: Why does this one always come up? Just one, I said.

S
Song: My body sings my soul.
Season: Autumn's first crisp chill.
Shoes: Bare toes, painted watermelon.
Silly: The child in us.

T
Time: Don't bring work home so that your time at home is your own.
Ticklish: Trained myself not to be ticklish on the bottoms of my feet because I used to lie on my stomach and read with my feet in the air; my dad would tickle them when he went by, and I liked that he did that. I didn't want to flinch.
Taste: Very Pottery Barn, very Pier 1. Also, I love toile, but don't have much in my house.
Torment: Sleeplessness. Looking at the clock, knowing I have to work in 4 .. 3 ... 2 hours.

U
Undress: The minute I get home from work, and put on my PJ pants and tank top.
Unpredictable: Most things strike me as funny, and I laugh at the wrong time.
Unfortunate: I got the job and you didn't. Doesn't mean you have to be mad at me.
Unforgettable: It started to drizzle as we walked through the rhododendrons, and you reached back through the leaves for my hand.

V
Vegetables: Anything but okra.
Virgin: Olive Oil
Vacation: Tuscany
Voice: Alto

W
Worst Habit: Sleeping too long; soaking dishes instead of just washing them already
Wish: World peace, of course. Are we almost there?
Waste: I don't like to throw things out, so I give them away.
Wander: Paralyzing fear of getting lost as I drive in the car. To desensitize myself I drive and get lost on purpose, then find my way out. I don't think it has helped much.

X
X-Rated: Porn is gross.
X-Rays: It freaks me out that you can see people's bones, and a nail in their head.
X-Men: Still waiting for the first one to get here from Blockbuster.com so that I can watch 2 and 3 and see what all the hype is about.
X-marks the spot: I hide dollars from myself in the pockets of my winter clothes, to find later.

Y
Year born: 1968
Yes: to cheese.
Yellow: and orange, two colors I don't wear.
Yearn: secret words whispered into my hair at sunset

Z
Zoo Animal: Tiger
Zodiac: Scorpio. Ain't it obvious?!?
Zealous: about Mozart. If you love him too, then you understand.
Zzzz: My bed is the best place in the world.

HNT Rehash: A Far Green Country

I dream in color.

& this week, the dreams are Irish.

Click on the button below to get the scoop and join the best club in Blogland.

To see my past HNT entries, visit the Half-Nekkid Thursday section of my sidebar.

Or click the HNT label below this post!

I am freaking out, but I can still be fabu while doing so.

So we are still in the throes of the midyear madness here in Spinnerland. It will soon be over, for better or worse! I can hardly move, having force-fed myself an entire jar of relish and a tube of anchovy paste. But I will soldier on!

I thought you might like to see how I do my hair:

I hope you are at least as excited about this as I am! It's all about the hot rollers, girls. Here is the hair routine as I have come to live it:

1. Wash at night
2. Saturate with leave-in conditioner (Aveda Elixir and only that, ever)
3. Wrap in super-absorbent hair chamois
4. Sleep on it
5. In the morning, comb and style with hot rollers.

I also wanted to share with you that even though I am psychotic, I am still trying to be fun! Here are my kids taking their midterm:

We have these boxes to make a perceived "wall" between neighboring students. They are old, beat-up keyboard boxes, some of which said things like "Maddie is a slut" and "I am so BORED" and had holes punched in them, so I covered them all with wrapping paper to make them pretty. I do believe that this also adds to the already fun testing atmosphere, giving it an air of frivolity. What is missing from the photo, besides the kids' faces, is the two boxes covered with cabbage-patch kids wrapping paper. It is so heinous that it must be seen; I promise to take a picture. The kids always fight over those.

And why oh why didn't I think of you all when I found the naked Barbie on the hallway floor during end-of-term "locker cleanout" today? She had the worst haircut, and some sort of semi-destroyed "outfit" made of cotton balls. I thought of you people too late, after I had already deposited her in the nearest receptacle, which was promptly whisked away.

Grading is not fun. What is fun is arranging citrus fruit in bowls, thusly:

And decorating my new home with rugs:

Sigh. If I could but curl up and sleep on that cozy little rug, but no. 3 more days of this madness.

Is vanity a sin?

'Cause my hair is f***ing fabu.

Stop snooping through my toiletries.

I Might Be Am White Trash.

Back in the fall of 2005, I posted a favorite series of mine entitled I Might Be White Trash (IMBWT); I took it down, because it contained too many photos of me (see 2006 Blogging Crisis). But I loved it, I miss it. I'd like to post it here for just a few days for you all to enjoy a second (or first!) time. This opportunity to mock/rub one out will only last for a short while, so please take advantage!

IMBWT I

Pass the Pipe Around!

Circa 1988

Ahhh yes ... a proud moment. SG tokes up before the formal. Check out the big hair. And what's with the paw on my shoulder? (The identity of my date is masked because I fucked him and don't remember his name he is now the CEO of a major corporation [click photo to reveal].)

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IMBWT II

Possums for pets.

circa 1990

The mother opossum was struck by a car; I was student teaching, and my supervising teacher rescued the babies that had been riding on her back. There were 6 total. We bottle-raised them on kitten formula. I used to walk around the dorm with 3 hanging from each finger, by their tails. They smelled. My sister (roommate) loved that. Almost as much as when I kept my boyfriend's rifle hidden under my bed for him.

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IMBWT III

Bunnies

Circa 1987

My friend Emme (3rd from left) was babysitting her roommate's 2 rabbits for the summer. SG, her sister, and her friends thought it was sooooo funny to put the 2 bunnies together and watch them go at it. At the end of the summer, Emme returned 17 rabbits to her roommate. What we learned: Bunnies always do what bunnies do best, when given the slightest opportunity!

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IMBWT IV

Celebrating in Style

circa 2005

I tied two beautiful balloons to my hoopty and drove it all over town.

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IMBWT V

Dinner is Served

circa 1984

Only a true back-woods gal like 15-year-old Spinning Girl could catch, clean, & cook a carp ... all while rockin' this lovely tube top unitard!

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IMBWT VI

Ready to Party Hearty

circa 1987

18-year-old SG thinks she's going out to party at the bar known as Ted's on the UConn campus. Ted's serves draft beer in plastic cups, lays plastic tarps on its floors on weekends, and checks ID's rigorously. She hopes she impresses the bouncer with this big hair and drinking-age-ish eyeliner (she does indeed, and stays 'til last call, winning 3 games of darts and losing her shoes somewhere). All that's missing is a tube top!

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IMBWT VII

Tire Fire

circa 1986

When SG and her college dorm-pals went camping, they sometimes didn't have wood to burn, or the wood was too wet. Solution?: Burn old tires! Yes. Do you think there may have been any carcinogens in that smoke?

SG and her friend smile, oblivious that the insides of their lungs are coated with the same burnt-rubber soot that coats their skin. Smart move! (The identity of my friend is masked because I fucked her and I don't remember her name she is still my friend, and I don't know if she'd like her picture up on the web. Especially after we fooled around.)

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IMBWT VIII

Lock & Load!

circa 1989

Instead of fixing the mass spectrophotometer and getting to work analyzing samples, SG and her professor spent hours at the gun club, where he taught her how to fire several different types of revolvers, a shotgun, and a few semi-automatic pistols. Why, you ask? Because that is what you do in a chemistry independent study!!! Our targets were person-shaped bullseyes of paper; unfortunately, none of them remained in pieces larger than a square centimeter, so no photos available.

Spinning Through the Years: A Photo Journey

Sorting through my parents' and grandparents' albums, I found pictures that I want to share. This was in the days before my new scanner, so they are photos of photos. The technology is primitive, but the motive is grand in scope. Perhaps by seeing who I was, I can understand who I am.

Could my parents be more fabu?!? I love that my dad is wearing his Beethoven sweatshirt. We still have it, somewhere. In this picture they are about ... oh, 12 years younger than I am now. OK, that makes me sad.
1969. Shortly after the first picture, perhaps only minutes later, we two were conceived. I am on the right. Notice how I am always holding on to the things I care about. Also, I am always making a face.

Circa 1970. My twin sister Twirling Girl does not return my affection with quite the same zeal. I believe there may be about four bunny slippers in this photo. My mama has great legs.

Circa 1971. The baking begins. We are very serious about our little pies. TG always has a hairdo and I look like a wild little boy.

1973. There are many important things going on here. 1. My back is to the camera because I am steering the boat! This is a very important job! It is achieved by pulling to the right and left on the railing!!! 2. My mother looks like a movie star; also, these sunglasses, which she has been wearing ever since, are finally back in fashion. 3. Tuuna Taco has arrived, and looks like a little doll. 4. TG is biting her lip is angst, an expression that she still makes often, and it breaks my little heart to see that familiar expression on her tiny little 4-year-old face.

Here, photo evidence that I never brushed the back of my head; a fact I have alluded to but never shown. Do not be fooled by the jauntily placed barrette! Also, rubber boots and cats were important features in our formative years.

The small gnome in this photo is actually TT, my baby sister. I am clutching her because I am very protective and she is my special project (she still is). This birch resides at my grandparents' farm, and now that granny is in a care facility I may never see it again. I didn't know I would be sad about this until just now.

The Official Child Labor Uniform for lawn care is Toughskins™ and piggytails. I still wear both when I rake acorns in my new back lawn. I believe that in my lifetime I have picked up approximately 483,902,331 sticks.

The living room and basement were the main rooms for play and for photo-taking. Here we cradle our Child Comfort Objects of choice. I don't know why TG has that doll; she should be holding her koala, Nipitiri, which was her favorite toy. I am holding Lumimõmm*, a very special bear whom I still have (in a bin somewhere) and for whom I made a very small quilted vest. I know what you are thinking! Say it. Say it!!! TT of course has the omnipresent Dressy Bessy, who followed her (and I suspect helped take some of her tests through) high school. *Lumi=snow mõmm=the sound a bear makes

Christmas was all about singing carols with the cousins. This would be about 1975. Check the go-go boots on cousin #2! I am in the red shirt, flanked by cousin #3 and TG. At the time of this photo we have not yet discovered the game of John and Maria. That piano in the background is going to be in my living room in about 2 weeks.

We all thought my uncle was the greatest, funniest dude of all time! Cousin #2 struggles not to laugh, but cousin #1 is not amused.

Circa 1976. We are all wearing handmade vests and/or sweaters here. Wait ... I think TG might be wearing a vest made of the same fabric as the vest I made for Lumimõmm. Let me go check ... yup. Wow, I never realized that. [By the way -- that bin is full of some great stuff. Watch for a future post on it!] I also love that TT has her knees up inside her brand new sweater, and that my dad is dressed like Carl Sagan.

My grandparents' cider press was one of the best things they ever bought. There is nothing better than foamy cider straight off the press. Here, I am sampling for quality. TT watches my every move, for she recognizes that I am wise beyond my years.

All right, so I skipped documentation of middle school entirely. The Babe Years really do deserve their very own post, do you not agree? Here the three sisters demonstrate their love of all things furry; this is taken in the "back 40" of my grandparents' farm. Notice the similarity in posture between me & TG here and in photo 3. TT looks a little bit lost without me holding on to her. I must remember to make up for that next time I see her.

Purge 2

Sometimes I buy a rotisserie chicken and just rip into it like a velociraptor. I douse the whole thing in salt and tear the limbs off of it. I slice the meat off in huge hunks. The only eating utensil I use is a knife. Soon, only bones remain. Then I go outside and scream my triumph to the neighborhood. Well, not so much scream triumphantly, as go in the bathroom and wash the grease off my chin.

I am ridiculously vain about my hair. Strangers will come up to me and compliment my hair, sometimes, ask me where I get it done. I tell them, and smile, and thank them, but secretly under my hair I am thinking, "Hellz yeah, it's gorgeous! It is a Love Mane! I have the power! Good luck getting yours to look like this!" I am such an asshole about it. I think God (if he ever comes out of my iPod) will probably make me bald to teach me a lesson, just like He made me leave the sunglasses I was so vain about in the bathroom at Fiumicino Airport in Rome. Photo: SG & her sister TT on TT's wedding day

In my dreams, I can fly. But I never soar high in a kettle of hawks, as I should. I just get a really good running start, lift my legs, and soar for short distances across the ground. So I guess it isn't really flying, more like gliding. Yes, in my dreams I am basically a bipedal, land-based flying fish. Sometimes I crash into a bush. My dreams suck.

Years ago, at a convention in Springfield, Massachusetts, I met this man. He had one talent: the ability to hang sideways on a light post. He could hang like this for several minutes. It was quite impressive; a real traffic-stopper. I think about his upper arm strength a lot, and how handy that would have come in with all the babies we could have had together. Ha ha! Not really (yes really)!

I am just amazed by his gymnastic feats (& arms) is all.

I almost can't believe what a babe I was when I was in 8th grade. Check it out! Do you like the glasses? I still have them. I use them for starting emergency fires when I get stranded.

This has been another trip on the seemingly endless river of consciousness. I owe these entries to my longish commute; you'd be amazed what spills out of your deepest psyche when you're stuck behind a school bus for 3 miles.