But Call Me Betsy

Okay, I always feel like a 12 year old girl on myspace whenever I try to take pictures of myself, but oh, well. Here's the new haircut, mother. I got it done at Ground Zero and the woman who cut it was Whitney. She was awesome. See if you can spot a fat cat somewhere in this photo. Sideview illustrating the layers and also my glowing computer screen in the background. Hopefully, I won't always have to keep one eye shut because of the new long bangs. Why do I always stick my tongue out when I try to take a smiling picture?

Here is your blessing for the day from a third grader. I give you Mother Teresa: Kitty in the window, part 568. I probably shouldn't encourage this, but there was a hole in the screen and he seemed to want contact, so...The hole got just a little bit bigger. This is part of a larger exterior wall mural. I really hate these two. The baby looks like he's the same age as the grandma, just shrunken. An extravagant back yard. If you get a chance, click on it to make it larger and see if you can find the deer. I like this cat because she just looks so worried. Cute bicycle bell man. And up close... These are two dogs I pet. The one on the right is named Hercules. I'm not sure what the other dog is named. He's fairly new to the hood. Hercules has one blue eye. I think he might bite me one day. He doesn't really like to be petted. The morning sky in South Philadelphia . I'll try to post more later, but I feel like today will be really really busy. I'm gettin...

FYI, the Google image search words I chose for this post was "Indecision." This is what came up. So, I finally got Soulseek to work and have been crazily adding all of this music to my i-Pod, including "Hazy Shades of Winter," a song by the Bangles that was also featured in the movie, Less Than Zero, based on a book by the 80s writer, Jay McInerey . Can't exactly remember the movie or the book, except that I think it was about these sort of jaded rich white kids who were trying to find themselves. As far as I recall, the whole point of the movie was that some of the characters never snapped out of their high school personas . The movie charts their lives after college, including a guy (played by Robert Downey , Jr.) who never stopped taking drugs and so he was a loser. A nobody. Washed up at the age of 23. He died at the end, I think. The message seemed to be that however you were at 23 was a sign of how you would be for the rest of your life. If you were a wa...

While lying with my feet higher than my head, biting down on a huge wedge of plastic, with my mouth held open by tools (this is not the beginning of a S&M post, I promise), I decided that the best way to survive the root canal would be to try to disassociate and think about what I hated most so I could write it here later. First, I should mention that I had trouble falling asleep last night because I couldn't remember the name of this guy I dated (the term "dated"is used very, very loosely) when I worked at Northwestern University Dental School (the program is now defunct). His first name was Armen . He was also Armenian, but we never referred to him as Armen the Armenian. He and I had this off again, on again relationship, mostly off because he was deep, deep into the first year of dental school which basically is the same year that med students take. He's the one who showed me my first dead body, because one of the times we hung out after work, he offered to ta...

My new bff, Avis, asked me if I would mind taking her to Target this weekend to help her buy school supplies. I said, Sure! I will take any excuse to go to Target. So, on Saturday, I gave her mom my cell phone number and made sure we were buckled in and off we went. Avis was a very observant and careful passenger. She let me know when the light was green, when another car was coming, when I'd missed my turn, etc. She also brought with her a special edition of People magazine with Hannah Montana on the cover. This was foreshadowing. We made it to Target (she found the parking spot), grabbed a cart, and started toward the kids sections. We found the school supplies--the folders and notebooks she needed--and then had to decide which of the 500 Hannah Montana notebooks she wanted. Until this trip, I had no idea how prevalent Hannah Montana is (insert "TM" here, as she's not really a "she." She's an "it;" a product). You can buy the follow things em...

This has not been a particularly good week for window photos, as you will notice. In fact, here you see a rabbit plant carrier, not a window. Partly, it's because I kept forgetting to charge the battery in my camera and partly, it's because I think I've taken pictures of most of the interesting windows around where I live. Looks like I have to change neighborhoods. But anyway, I like how this rabbit looks as though he's smiling. Below, please find a clear-eyed tabby--I think he's actually standing in a doorway rather than a window. He looks like Emma Carol's soul mate. What a tragedy that never the twain shall meet. Here is a Siamese cat flirting with Lisa Marie and me. I took this photo on the way back from brunch with her and John at Sabrina's. It has occured to me lately that I may be turning into a misanthrope. At Sabrina's, for instance, I found it totally irritating that when we were offered a table inside, this bunch of people who said they wante...

Met Ingrid and Celia and Bethany for book club this evening at Borders. Celia had choosen one of my favorite writers, David Sedaris . We read When You Are Engulfed in Flames and, though I hate to write use this term, many of his essays caused me to "lol." Here's an essay by him that I like; it's called " Memento Mori." It's probably bad that I think like him. I understand his morbid streak and, in this particular piece, he writes about how buying this skeleton for his boyfriend makes him keep thinking, "You are going to die...You are going to die..." That phrase echoes around in my head in some form or another pretty much every day. It's why I keep my house neat and clean when I leave. Just in case I die, I want to present myself as a somewhat neat person who doesn't live in disarray (if you discount the ants, those tiny little black creatures I don't mind killing with my fingers. They are resilient. I've tried everything. Wel...

1. As an only child, I grew up competing against exactly no one, except for my pretend friend, Katcha, who I imagined as a slightly slow girl from Russia. She and I would play Sorry together and "sorry!" but I always won. Hence, I don't really get the whole competition thing. Can't everyone win? 2. No Olympic event could ever top Nadia Comaneci's gold medals and perfect 1o scores, nor her cuteness. 3. It's difficult for me to watch any of the Olympic events, even skeet-shooting, because everyone is so tense. You just know that the athlete is thinking, Don't fuck up, don't fuck up, don't fuck up ...And then, guess what? Sometimes, s/he fucks up and then you know they will be reliving that particular moment over and over and over and over again for the rest of her/his life. 4. The announcers try to heighten the tensiosity. "Well, as you know, if Tatiana doesn't at least get a silver here, her entire family will be shipped back in a pet carri...

Finally went to the dentist today after about fifteen years. I realized that I have only visited a dentist maybe three times in my adult life. No wonder they have to now pull out all of my teeth and give me new ones! I asked for pink dentures with sparkles. I would rather have fifteen appointments at the doctor to get a series of rabies shots in than stomach than one dental appointment. You cannot escape pain. Even taking X-rays hurts because they make you bite down on a piece of cardboard. And I totally hate the scrapping of the teeth---the sound, the way it feels, the bits of plaque that fly out of your mouth. Today was not totally bad because it was only the X-rays and then her telling me how awful my te eth are and how I will have to have a root canal and also go to an oral surgeon so s/he can yank out this other tooth that fractured long ago and replace it with a $10,000 piece of metal after drilling a hole in my jaw. I would sort of love to get braces to fix my snaggletooth. I do...

Have not much to say today, but I will include a link to my latest article in Philadelphia Maven Magazine. Please keep in mind that I have to write these pieces two months ahead of time, so this piece does not in any way reflect my particular state of mind. I am totally, totally, over it. That said, I keep thinking about how I am too, too suggestible. The particular person mentioned as the last break-up I experienced also made vague references to the fact that he didn't want to date me because he suspected I was crazy. After he said that, I sat blankly for awhile and then stood up, pulled up my shirt and shouted, Is it crazy to have your name tattooed on my body after having dated for two weeks???? So, now, I occassionally take out his idea of me an examine it to see if he's right, even after never having considered it before. For instance, I realized recently in the process of clearing out my sent message box on my phone, that I had sent him the same text message 3 TIMES. 3 ...

Here you will find a photo of my neighbor, Avis, who loves animals and always wants one, but then she gets the animal and realizes that she's only nine years old and not quite qualified to take care of the beast. So, she adopted this kitten. Then one day recently, she knocked on my door with the kitten in her hands and said, My mom said you want to adopt her? I said, No! She despaired because her cousin is allergic to cats and now, they either keep the kitten in the basement or leave her outside, where she meows pitifully and is in danger of being eaten by the tougher cats in our hood. Today, I peered over the fence to see what she was being fed and saw a chicken bone lying in her kitty dish. Which the sparrows were trying to eat. I told Avis that I would do my best to find a brand new home for no-name calico. Here is my attempt. Please tell everyone you know. I can't have another cat. One more would tip the scales and push me into cat hoarder land. But if you can't help, d...

I guess I should be glad that not all the dreams I have are stressful. However, it is distressing that they are often superficial. Last night, for instance, my dreams featured Katie Holmes and Tom Cruise. And KH's mother, whom I met while out shopping. She had stopped to look at a bunch of alligators in a nearby tank (they weren't dangerous). I tried to play it really cool; everyone else was turning around to look at her and take her photo (as if KH's mother has a well-recognized face). I think I did end up talking to her briefly. After her mom had left, Katie showed up. I said, Oh, I just ran into your mom. We chatted for awhile. Tom Cruise showed up shortly afterwards, looking as he did in the movie Magnolia . We all made plans to meet in Brooklyn next weekend. Gave Liz a paper tiara for her birthday and some stick on earrings. There was a guy at the bar in a wheelchair and I think I want to write a story about some girl dating a similar person; I could write a whole book...

Just found a bunch of lost cds, including xo, the cd with one of my favorite songs on it, "Someone That I Used to Know." I listened to the song like 10 times on the way to work. What's funny/stupid though is that I can start to feel sad b/c the lyrics and the chords are sad, but then when it gets to the chorus, I'm always like, Shouldn't that be "someone WHO I used to know?" So I sing it that way instead. The song makes me wish again that I could play the guitar, because I bet I could learn that song in a heartbeat, if, that is, I knew how to play. Happy birthday to City Liz . We have planned a celebratory happy hour tonight at this bar on 12th and Sansom...McCool's? Does that sound right? Feel free to join us, C & P. For the occassion, I am wearing a brand new used dress with polka dots. Here is a blurry picture of my chest. I know you all have been dying to see this. Later: Just back from the eye doctor who was very nice and gave me a free pa...

I don't know exactly what has come over me lately or why I keep posting so many pics, but these make me laugh even though they're of cats (or especially because they are?). Below, please find Ernesto. He laid immodestly like this for about twenty minutes last night. It wasn't even that hot, so it's not like he had to air out. I don't know what his deal was. And Henri. This is the best of about 100 pictures I had to take of him. Every time I snapped the button, he would look down over move. He is bashful. The fatness that is Emma Carol. I showed this picture to a co-worker and she said, Did that cat eat one of your other cats? Look how stumpy she is too. Her legs are like two inches long. She makes me laugh more than any of the other ones because she always just looks goofy and unkept. Here, she appears to have been shot. More body parts. Someday, maybe I will post an entire photo. This is one of my favorite rings though.

For some reason, I have had a recent spat of anxiety dreams--the same kind of dreams I always have when I'm worried about something; though, in this case, I can't think of anything that's particularly stressful in my life, unless it's just that I have no real savings, own nothing, am getting increasingly older and not any cuter, still single with no real prospects in sight, own too many cats, have broken out in a weird rash (shingles? I'm kidding, no rash that I've yet discovered), will soon be blind b/c I have run out of new contacts, haven't yet been to the dentist to fix my broken tooth (have an appt . with the dentist next week), will die someday, have been reading too many Joyce Carol Oates stories, have significant financial debt (IRS, Discover card, student loan, parents), my car hasn't been inspected for over a year, ants are eating the cat food, the stray cat has been absent and will likely turn up after having birthed 15 more kittens, my neigh...

Sat next to this woman on the subway today who had black writing tattooed on the inside of her left wrist. How much must it have hurt to have that done? What if the artist accidentally hit one of the bluish tributaries of her veins a fountain of blood spouted out? It makes me squirm to think of it. Anyway, on sidelong glance, it looked as though her tattoo read "just friends." It made me think that maybe she went to the tattoo parlor with some guy who really wanted their relationship to progress, and she agreed, but decided that she would make their status clear to him and thereby had "just friends" written permanently on her wrist. Finally realized that it really read "just breathe." That made a little more sense, I suppose. I can expand my claims to regular column writings to include a writing tips piece I turned in today for Philadelphia Stories (from an adaptation of an earlier blog post about writing pet peeves). I feel hypocritical though since I ha...

That was the plan on Friday in meeting up with a bevy of girls at Mantra for happy hour. We liked it lots because the wine was only $5 and we got to sit outside to people-watch. Because Celia is such a good photographer, it ended up also being a night of photographs. Consider her the guest picture taker, except you will note that I ended up taking quite a few of her. First though, check out our adorable waitress, Brie. We left her almost a fifty percent tip and hope to see her again as she is our new girl crush. Here is Celia, demonstrating how not to pick up men. Hands-off. I can't remember why we were doing all these things with our hands. Here is my hand illustrating lovely fingernails with flecks of red polish. All the chairs outside were backless. I warned everyone that it was quite likely that I would start to fall backwards after a few glasses of wine. Celia noted that I would then reach for the table, but not be able to grasp the edge to save myself because of the chip. ...