Dear John Letters #9

Today, there will only be one dear John letter. I've been storing them up for quite some time, but this one is more timely than the rest.

Dear John Edwards,

Thanks for allowing me to waste my vote. Last week, I exercised my right as an American and my privilege as a busy person by filling out my absentee ballot and mailing it off in a timely manner. When I marked the bubble that corresponded with your name, I kind of felt like I was throwing away a vote because we know California is probably going to Hillary. But I still believed! I believed you were Middle America's Great White Hope. Is the Heartland really ready for a black man at the helm? Or worse yet, a WOMAN? Women should stay at home, barefoot and pregnant. And black men...well, they just break my heart. And that's all we'll say about that.

Everyone who matters, meaning the people I was drinking with at a sports bar last night and therefore the most educated on the matter, thought you were the one who would persevere after Hillary and Obama split the vote. But no, you instead chose to give up. Quitter. Spitters are quitters too. I don't spit. Just so we're clear.

Next time, I promise not to go with the safe bet. Because, obviously, white men will break my heart too. You're a quitter AND a heart breaker.

No man is worth that trouble.


Krazy Mommy is Now Officially Old

You might notice things are a little different today. Just slightly. We're celebrating, hence the purple.

Because it's finally happened: Krazy Mommy, the Queen of Suburbia, is THIRTY YEARS OLD today.

And everyone needs to know that. So you can wish her happy birthday. Or mock her for being older than you. Go ahead, I dare you.

Also she loves purple. And I love her. So there.

Happy birthday to my OLDEST friend--we've known each other for 24 years! It's only T-37 days till we celebrate for realsies: with Bellinis and a rock wall!

This is going to be a fantastic year.


Photoblogging Sunday 1.27.08

Thank you everyone for participting in the Collaborative Photo Project. There were 6 truly inspiring entries. The one below was picked because it was the simplest to illustrate with what I had at my disposal. (I didn't want to leave the house for fear of being washed away. It's raining like crazy out there. Scary!)

From Jeen Yes:

She had something to confess to
Begging for so much more
And I don’t want you to adore me
Don’t want you to ignore me
And I’ll do it on my own

For your consideration:

Come again

The rest will come in future weeks. Some of them are going to take a bit more thinking to figure out, some will require the sun to be shining, or whatever. Capt. Chipmunk's might actually have to wait till a long, hot summer night.

If anyone else wants to participate, the comments for this ongoing project remain open.

JY, let me know if you want it mailed to you.


The Collaborative Photo Project

Who wants to help me with my next photoblog?

When I was in college, I had an assignment called 20 Lines. We had to randomly select 20 lines from any written work. They could be poetry, songs, books, whatever. And then this new story concocted from 20 orphaned lines would be the premise for the project.

I stole lyrics from songs by Hole, Poe, and U2. Something with the words "watch the cripple dance...you creep in like a whisper..." It was very noir.

At the time, the Krazy Mommy and I lived together and she was always the willing camera whore. So I shot about 4 rolls of her in a red-lit room and cross-processed the hell out of it. I then went downtown at midnight and shot pictures of the buildings all lit up (you've seen some of those shots here and here). I have no idea what sense it made when it came together, but it was very well received.

Because I'm brilliant. And it was very easy to bullshit my way through an interpretation of the 20 lines and match it up with my shots. Did I mention I'm brilliant?

So here's where I need your help--if you're up for it:

Lets do the same thing, but we'll cut it down to 5 lines. Give me 5 randomly-pieced together lines from anywhere (the more obscure the work the better), and I'll shoot it this weekend and post it on Sunday.

Whoever's 5 lines I choose to illustrate gets a signed 8x10 . If they want it.

It's a win-win for everyone!


Time for a Second Opinion

I got some bad news from the doctor the other day. My liver is compromised. That's not fun.

It's not past the tipping point, but inheriting bad genes is not helping.

And the kicker? It was probably caused by the
drugs he put me on. File that under Supremely Fucked Up.

Spanky doesn't handle medical malpractice, but he suggested someone who does. I'm not convinced there's a case here, but it's comforting that my friends are attempting to help the best way they know how.

The upside? Ceasing to drink probably would not help this condition. Wouldn't hurt either, but at least alcohol won't kill me.

At least there's a silver fucking lining.

Fucking doctors.


Betting on Celebrities

Who had Heath Ledger in the Celebrity Death Pool? Or, for that matter, Brad Renfro?

My picks usually skew much older. Like Kirk Douglas. Or Elizabeth Taylor. Who knew the trend was going to be boys in their 20s? And how why is Britney still alive?

I had intended to do a death pool of sorts for 2008 a few weeks back. But I got busy. My categories were going to be along the lines of:

- Next underaged/squeaky-clean celebrity to receive DUI: Hilary Duff
- Next celebrity to end up pregnant: Nicki Hilton
- Next serial rehab artist: Mary Kate Olson
- Next Scientology convert: Sarah Silverman (that media whore will do anything for attention)

And so on and so forth. Feel free to make up your own categories and play along in the comments.


Photoblogging 1.21.08

These holidays completely throw me off balance. That's why this week's photo is late. You'll forgive me if you like pink boxing gloves.

Come again

Knocking out cancer

Another installment of the calendar for charity. I have no idea if the pictures I'm posting here are going to make it into said calendar, I just like them. And have thoroughly enjoyed shooting them. The models were a laugh riot and I finally rediscovered how much I like playing with my little black box. I forgot how much fun it can be. And how good I am.



Overheard in the Family #10

I had dinner with my parents tonight, which is always a nice treat. There was much Pinot Grigio, so we were all a little loopy.

The conversation turned to the pictures I'd shot of them at my aunt and uncle's anniversary party last month. My mom really liked them, but my father had a different reaction:

Dad: My face looked really wide.

GPG: Dad, when you squeeze three dimensions into two dimensions, you flatten out. That's why they say that the camera adds ten pounds.

Dad: I looked fat.

GPG: When did you get so vain??? My god, did you grow a vagina too?

Dad: *to Mom* Your daughter is getting dirty.

GPG: I've had a lot to drink.

And then they both laughed. It's good to be a grown up.


Happy Birthday, Daddy!

You know how sometimes you'll drink so much while you're having a really good time that it doesn't hit you until waaaaaaaaaaaaaaay later?

One glass of scotch (I love me those 18 year olds...). One glass of Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand. I'm totally looped out. Yet I somehow managed to drive us home.

It was a good night, just me and my daddy enjoying scotch. And celebrating his birthday.

A really good night.


Are You Smarter Than This Riddle?

You have, undoubtedly, received this email already. It's a simple math problem supposedly derived from the game show Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader?

And since we here at Exxy HQ highly recommend having a college degree in order to read this blog, this should be embarrassingly easy for everyone. Especially you kids with the super advanced JDs and Doctor titles.

The Krazy Mommy and I both got it in under 5 minutes. But Big Fish, the engineer with a master's degree, was off by a gianormous margin. *smirk*

Here you go:

In a bus there are 7 girls. Each girl has 7 bags. Each bag has 7 big cats. Each big cat has 7 small cats. How many legs in the bus?

Don't make the idiotic mistake of giving all the girls four legs. That's just not right.

Also, the answer is floating all over the internet, but if you can actually get this by pure brains, more power to you.


Photoblogging Sunday 1.13.08

Because Captain Chipmunk has been giving me grief for not posting pictures, we're reinstating photoblogging. Yay.

I've been commissioned to shoot a calendar for a breast cancer awareness fundraiser. We started with four of the models yesterday. Here's one of my favorite shots.

He's just a nice guy
I forgot how much I love to shoot hot men. Lucky me, we're exploiting shooting the rest of the models next weekend.

More of these fine specimens to follow...


Why Drugs are Bad

Because I spent all day shooting a calendar layout, my brain is fried and I'm sitting at home watching the History Channel.

Tonight's episode is titled "Hooked: Illegal Drugs and How They Got That Way." The focus of this one is pot.

It's an interesting look at the history of "the weed," as they keep referring to it, in this country. Its popularity was especially high among Mexican migrant workers during The Depression. Because of this, the southwestern states wanted it banned and, by extension, the Mexicans dealt with--in other words, deported. So the government launched a campaign to pass a federal law against pot.

They bombarded the public with ad campaigns that claimed marijuana was "loaded with immorality and beastial perversions" in every seed. It was the "assassin of youth" and had to be destroyed.

At the time, most people were more worried about the rise of gang violence and the need to outlaw machine guns. Hence the aggressive and misleading campaigns. The Mexicans were simply too troublesome, so pot became illegal.

All because of some racist assholes in California and Texas.

The law was overturned by the Supreme Court 30 years after it passed. But 3 years later, a new one was enacted. And that's where we stand now.

That was your history lesson for this evening.


Where's My Paycheck?

Sometimes they pay us on the Friday before the payday (1st and 15th). Sometimes they don't. We thought we'd figured it out: if the end of the pay period falls before Wednesday, then we would get the check early.

Tuesday is the 15th. But my bank account is not currently enjoying my direct deposit.



Overheard in His Pajamas

The other night, I shared a bourbon-fueled Indian dinner and orgasms with an Architect. After much fun, we decided to take a break and venture out into the living room. Watch a little tv. Make out on the couch. Dive back into the yummy food we'd brought home.

Tip: Indian food does something AMAZING for one's sex drive. Trust me on that.

While flipping channels I opted for manly-man television. I am, of course, the awesomest chick on the planet. Also, it was his house, so I figured I should put on something he'd probably be interested in watching. Since he was letting me control the remote and all.

GPG: Ooh, Inside the NFL!

Architect: I love football.

GPG: Me too. But I'm more into college than pro.

Architect: Actually I used to hate football.

GPG: Because you're gay?

Architect: Because I was a total punk kid and totally anti-anything popular. Like football.

GPG: You mean you were gay?

Architect: No! But I like it now, so it's okay.

GPG: When did you start to like it again? 5 seconds ago when I said I like it?

To which he just laughed and made faces at me.

I love that I can tease him like that. He also, much to Jack's approval I'm sure, indulges my whiskey-lovin' ways.

Rebounds are so much fun.


Overheard during the BCS Championship Game

Having spent the entire season dating a man who absolutely loves LSU made it kind of difficult to ignore them tonight. I thought about calling him up to catch the game, but that would have been a really bad idea.

So dad and I watched it together instead. Which is almost as fun, except my dad doesn't yell at the tv. I think I prefer it that way.

With 9:04 minutes left in the 3rd quarter, the Tigers were running roughshod all over their opponents. There were 20 points between them and the Buckeyes. We laughed at Ohio State's misfortune:

GPG: 30 unanswered points. They're not coming back from that.

Dad: Ohio State needs a miracle.

GPG: They need more than a miracle. They need each one of the LSU players to get electrocuted by a freak lightning storm. Then maybe they can come back to win.

That made my dad chuckle. With 1:50 left in the entire game, we decided even a freak storm wouldn't be able to help them. The Buckeyes went on to score one last time, but no one cared.

I'm still tempted to call Monsieur and celebrate the title win...if there was ever going to be an opportunity, it would be right now. When I know he's ecstatic. Then maybe it wouldn't feel so hollow.

No one else I know is so deeply emotionally invested in college football. But the celebration wouldn't last. There's really nothing that's going to fill that void.



December by the Numbers

2008 is finally here. For the first time in a long time, I actually don't feel like the last year flew by in a flash. I know I've complained about time passing faster than I can keep up, but the truth is, so much happened in the last year that I feel like I finally got my money's worth.

A recap of the year may be in order, but for now, lets concentrate on the last month:

8 days in the office
3 Xmas parties

1 iPod shuffle
11 days of vacation
2 weeks spent packing

4 hours spent moving
75 square feet of storage fully packed with all my crap
26 miles moved
5 broken nails
2 stubbed toes
3 cuts on my hands

9 days spent adjusting to the new living situation
0 days spent missing my old living situation
27 days single
1 possible new player in the mix
1 evening of tequila-fueled hilarity
2 entertaining lunches
1 case of mistaken celebrity
80 minutes massaged
3 hours shooting family portraits in the wind

50 dollars for rented lighting setup
0 minutes spent using it for fear of lights falling over
30 dollars for the rented background set up
60 minutes before it fell over due to the vicious wind
80 million laughs over the absurdity of the elements
9 amazing pictures that made it all worth it

2 visits from the Phoenix Suns
1 Clippers game missed due to moving exhaustion
3 family members moved to San Diego
4 hours spent getting to San Diego

2 hours spent returning
50 years of marriage celebrated
1 set of wedding vows renewed

60 minutes spent in church (without bursting into flames!)
23 shots before my flash unit quit
264 shots eventually captured throughout the night
94 printed
3 hours playing board games on New Year's Eve
5 glasses of wine imbibed beforehand
1 glass of champagne as the ball dropped

Good-bye 2007. Hello 2008. Is anyone else having trouble writing out the date?


Happy New Year

I promise a December by the Numbers is coming. And probably some Dear John letters. And the year's resolutions, which include bitching out all the vendors who piss me off (I did that to two of them today. It was quite cathartic.).

And maybe some thickly-veiled stories about a new boy. We'll see. Maybe I'll drop names about running into a Hollywood personality while out with another blogger. And something about slamming beers at the post office.

But for now, we're going dark. Enjoy your time off. I have to go be famous.

Back next week with the regularly scheduled shlock.