Thanks for all the well wishes.  I’m feeling better.

Chapter 1
Little Man has been acting out a bit, so we had some serious Q.T. this weekend. Without fail, our Q.T. ends up being some variation of body painting, which is certainly encouraged in his new favorite book: I Ain’t Gonna Paint No More, a hilarious tale about a kid who’s seriously into body painting. Anyway … the design is 100% Little Man. I’m his ‘high level assistant’, helping here and there, mostly when he wants something to be “stripe-ity.” I paint a stripe, ask which color comes next, paint another stripe, and so on … I take no ownership of the design elements. This is pure 4.5 year old work.

Chapter 2
Dr. Hot and I went to the new Institute of Contemporary Art on Sunday. Strangely, I was petrified of spending time with another single lesbian. I wasn’t a total geek, but I wasn’t exactly Ms. Charming 2008 either. By way of explanation, I hid behind the fact that art makes me introspective. She was both charming and a little nervous, which was sweet. Nobody said the word “date”, but I believe it was one.

I loved this David Muller work called As Below, So Above, which chronicled the development of rock and roll and had an audio soundtrack of the artist’s music. The soundtrack was like an iTunes party shuffle on crack.

I did not enjoy Kader Attia’s work. So.freaking.creepy! I suppose it’s good art, because it evoked such a strong emotional reaction in me. But I didn’t like it one bit. {shudder}

Bourgeois in Boston was excellent. There was a description of spirals that I regret not photographing because I can’t find it online. Overall, I really like her work, except that I nearly walked out of the museum when I saw her room-sized bronze spider. I leaned over to Dr. Hot and said, “I’m going to have nightmares about this for a week,” and yes, they’ve already started. Fun times, arachnophobia. Fun times.

Chapter 3
I have been knitting on the Rhiannon sock here and there, and have completed repeat #2. I love it deeply and intensely. Cables make me so freakin’ happy. It must be genetic, because it’s completely irrational.

Chapter 4
With any luck, I’ll soon be able to blog about two mini-projects that have been flying under the blogdar for the last two weeks. I’m hoping for good news and once I get it, I’ll blog it. Oh the agony of waiting for news.

I haven’t seen you in 8 years, and good god girl, you have.Grown.Up. Wow. Yeah, I was checkin’ you out from across the bar, and thought to myself ‘that girl looks like Hot. Nah, can’t be.’ I looked and looked and looked. Did you catch me looking? I think you did. When you came over to say hello, I gasped in shock. Holy Shit! It IS You! Oh.My.God. Girrrrrrl … you look good! HUGS and Hugs and hugs that last too long. Quickly turn into something. Something? You’re wearing black cashmere. It’s tight. I can’t stop petting you. This is something. Definitely something. The bass is pumping and you keep the rhythm. hot. We try to talk. It’s futile. So I watch words develop in your little touches and the way you move to the music. You’re telling me something subtle with that body. Something nice. Girrrrrl … you’ve Grown Up since I saw you last. You used to be so shy. Those 8 years of sporadic contact brought me a stalled career, a failed marriage and this AMAZing man-child. You — with your head stuck in your books — discovered dykedom, wrote a dissertation and boarded the tenure track. All before you turned 30. Yeah, that’s hot. Real hot. Smart . Hot . Dyke . with hips pumping out the rhythm. Meow.

Say what? You’re single?

Oh …

really?

In looking through my ‘07 resolutions, I didn’t do too poorly. Especially when you consider the two huge life changes that were unexpected and largely out of my control: the divorce and being recruited into a graduate program. Still, as I look at the list, I feel a twinge of guilt for not achieving everything I set out to do. It’s silly, I know. But I’m a striver like that.

However, this year I pledge to be a realist. Life is short. Relationships are unpredictable. Everything can change in the blink of an eye. Therefore, I intend to focus more on the present, less on the future, and way less on what other people are doing/accomplishing. Accordingly, my goals are:

Human
… pay attention and go with the flow
… continue to be mindful of my body, fitness and health
… continue to love my little boy with all of my heart, and make all decisions with his needs in mind
… regularly tell friends and family how much I appreciate them

Employee & Student
… focus. focus. focus. produce. produce. produce.
… imagine. envision. create.

Home-owner
… buy a mattress & box spring
… buy a couch
… make wise financial decisions

Creator
… look to the stash (both fabric and fiber) before buying anything new
… finish some WIPs
… have fun

In looking back, I realize that I finished more crafty projects in 2007 than I thought.

It’s funny how you can forget about things that are finished and gifted away, temporary, perpetually in progress, or outgrown. If you ignore all of those items, that leaves 2 pairs of socks, one washrag, a pair of mittens, a hat, and my first skein of handspun. No wonder I’m forgetting my accomplishments!
I fudged the definition a little to allow the Dale to make the cut. After all, I finished the whole body. That’s a finished object, right?

Note to self: try to take more photos of completely finished objects before using/gifting them.

In a moment of crazy youthful impulsiveness, and thanks to blogless Deanna’s tip, I convinced Cheryl to drive across the state to Northampton tonight to see an incredible New Year’s Eve show at the Calvin: Melissa Ferrick, Erin McKeown and Alix Olson, together! There’s also talk of additional surprise guests, and I bet Pamela Means will be one of them. I am so f-ing excited I can barely contain myself!!! Happy Dance. Happy. Happy. Happy. Dance. After the show, we’ll drive east in the wee hours, crash hard, and then go to Danielle’s for the afternoon. What a way to welcome the New Year! Hoooooray!!!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

I’m trying to knit the set-up row on the Rhiannon sock, and it’s kicking my ass. It looks about the same as it did last week:

Perhaps I should stop knitting while inching along in rush hour traffic? Or maybe stop knitting while watching The L Word? Especially during scenes that make me cry like a little baby, like this one. [stupid wordpress won't let me embed this video, so you'll have to click over. argh.] But let me be clear — crying like a baby is a strange reaction — everyone else will think this scene is hot-hot-hot! You’re gonna click over now, aren’t you?

So my break from grad school apparently means knitting, beautiful actors doing lesbian sex scenes. Oh yeah, and a quiet peaceful home stocked with lots of red wine. Does it get any better than this? Seriously.

Before. After.

Click the picture for more than you ever wanted to see.

ETA: Thanks for all the early compliments.  But let me clarify — Nina Beana did the lion’s share of Phase 2.  We love her!

And I’m getting really tired of people thinking that I am. Nothing against femmes, of course, because I ADORE them. Hard femmes are totally my thing. Meow. But I am not femme. And in the last few weeks I’ve been called a femme at least 4 times, and worse yet, someone said I look like a suburban mom. Dems fightin words!

My weapon of choice — scissors!

This is merely Phase 1. I suspect that another 4 inches will be chopped off before the week is out. I have clippers and I’m not afraid to use them.

I’m in! And the Bachelor Pad is nearly unpacked too. Photos forthcoming.

As always, Suzanne has incredible timing. She posted a dirty little internet quiz today, which offered fresh perspective on my love life. Sweet!

There was big drama over the blog & comments over the past two weeks, hence the absence, but I believe that drama has passed. Different drama arrived to replace it, but ’tis the nature of divorce.

On a positive note — Little Man and I spent last weekend in Philadelphia for a pre-birthday visit with the BFF&exGF#2 and her Dearest, during which we were pampered by two of the most generous people on earth. Since the BFF has cable, I caught up on my trashy television: Tila Tequila. Dani = yelp, pant, pant, beg. Lesbian readers, pay attention - you can watch the entire series online for FREE. Trust me. Go meet Dani. You won’t regret the investment in trashy TV. And yes, I mean you Cate. Go now. She’s totally your type. Plus, there’s a major treat in Ep. 5. Go.

Ahem.

Anyway … I believe the rest of you are waiting for a decision and a prize. Right?

First of all, let me say this: Blogless Pi Grrrl was correct. I was only asking folks to share their dastardly deeds so I could engage in some therapeutic fantasizing. I didn’t intend to do anything. Really, I didn’t. But I was pushed too far. Again. And regarding being pushed too far, let us never discuss my birthday. Fun times at Chez Mafia. But I digress.

So the prize goes to …

Martha

… who not only frightened me with her insanity and used some excellent curse words. But she guessed the real deal — burning the note in a pot. Martha, you know the protocol. Email your address and I’ll send you something soon(ish).

Honorable mention goes to:

Beth S. for being super passive aggressive and snarky

Blogless Brandy for suggesting blonde nubile house guests, despite the fact that I’d trade them for salt-&-pepper pant-suit-&- heels-wearing powerful 30-something house guests with a soft curve or two. Just sayin’

Blogless Erin for suggesting the use of an evidence bag

FemiKnitter for being truly gross (love it!)

Jenn for a suggestion that’s crossed my mind a number of times over the past couple weeks

Lucia, for beginning the Alternate Mix Tape thread, which makes me think that I need to compile all these suggestions and make one. “Hello, iTunes? Can I get a credit line?”

Blogless Marisa for making me LOLcat

Mary for suggesting Skunk Essence and Red Fox Urine (where in the world can you procure those anyway?)

Melanie for her mind-fuckery idea involving bengay and STD accusations

Mote for a suggestion that involves tools. The Mafia loves tools

PumpkinMama for a simultaneous passive aggression & reality check

Rabbitch for combining a song list, Addis, blood, camel/tussah, and cocktails in the same idea

Suzanne for a scientifically educational idea involving the smell of semen (eeeeww yuck yuck)

Terry, for introducing me to my new favorite song: Before He Cheats by Carrie Underwood

Thorny for an idea involving Taco Bell, shit, lighter fluid and the word “fuckwaddery”

Now pardon me while I go drop a wad on iTunes.

A little bird has been telling people that it’s my birthday, so my yahoo box and my ravelry box are packed with well wishes.  What a wonderful way to start the day!  Clearly I have the best little bird that a mafia could ever want, and no, I won’t share.  And just to make you even more jealous, my little bird left an entire pan of brownies on my desk this morning.  Not a couple brownies, which would’ve been wonderful.  An entire pan!  Okay, now I’m bragging.

Anyway … I have no big plans for celebrating, except a lunch date with a new friend, and probably adult bevvies and knitting tonight.

I’m looking forward to being 33.  It’s such a nice round number.  Also, if you tip your head to the right and squint, 33 looks like lesbians spooning.  It also looks like my favorite hug — the sneak up from behind surprise hug.  Just sayin.