burning questions

last night i got mad at a picture.

this picture:


it was mocking me and my inability to recognize a joke. all i was trying to do was browse a few real estate listings (on a legit site) and then i saw this piece of work. i instantly felt self-conscious, 'am i the only moron who can't tell what the fuck this is about?'

reading further into the ad did not resolve any questions i had.


is someone seriously trying to sell this house? what is the entire fire department doing posing for a picture in front of a burning house? exactly how long ago was thomas edison's time? just how bad is the fire damage? who can i rob to get 55k cash?

et cetera, et cetera.

i was going to print out the picture and burn it just to make it feel stupid too, but then i figured it might be the type of picture that likes that kind of thing. and also because i might end up burning down my current home and wind up in a lunatic asylum perpetually mumbling something about fire and cash offers.

on that note, fuck you, picture. you and your weird fire scenario are no longer going to bother me, unless you want to play nice and tell me what the fuck you're all about. then i'll invite you over for tea and we can chat about property lines and vinyl siding.

i've been a good girl this year

dear hannukah harry,


please don't be pissed that despite being a relatively uninformed jew for the past thirty years i still don't know how to spell chanukka.

and also, please don't think i'm a sellout because i have a christmas tree and a menorah. that tree is so pretty and when i put a piney scented candle near it, it makes me feel all forresty and wintery.

hanuka candles never smell that good.

now that i've gotten that out of the way, i'd like to ask you to pretty please hook me up this year with a new phone. you see, the last one you got me was a little outdated, and never really got good reception.


plus it started to rust after i dropped in it the snow.

so the next year i went over your head and got myself a stylish new phone all on my own. it looked like this:


but then i dropped it into a pot of watercress soup at work and it smelled like sour cream ever since that day.

the one i got to replace the soupy phone wasn't much of an upgrade and now tends to shut off automatically when it gets mad about all the baby drool on it.

i can't say i blame that poor phone. i wouldn't want to drooled on either.

what this all comes down to is simply that if you can find a way to get me a phone that performs better than little miss's table-top phone, and even has a decent camera on it, i promise you won't regret it.

there are so many wonderful things i can take pictures of and text to you that would make you smile. the other day i saw a portrait of a man who had just told a really dirty and inappropriate joke and he was waiting for me to either crack up or smack him. i really, really wished i had a way to capture that moment and share it with you. but alas, it was not meant to be.

together, hannuka harry, you and i can change the way i share crazy with the world. i'll even make you some of the best latkes you'll ever have. if that's not enough of a bribe for you to help a girl out, than i don't know what else i can do. i'd hate to resort to threats because they take so much work, and frankly, i'm too lazy for that shit. i'll just say, do yourself a favor harry, for the sake of your reputation, please don't cheap out on me. the world is watching and the ball's in your court.

i'm ready and waiting, your time starts.....NOW!


thank you and good day. with deepest regards,

lana

it's not me, it's you, but only if your name is miss.chief

miss.chief had a brilliant idea to do a whole month of guest posts at other blogs. i took her up on her offer pretty much immediately thinking that i'd be able to bring a bit of much needed variety to my pearl hiding spot. and also because i'm lazy and i knew it'd buy me some time to create my next amazing post/vlog.

on that note, i'm pleased to present you with miss.chief:



Walking down the rain-flooded street, she thought about the story her mom once told her about when she was a small child.

She had been dressed like Paddington Bear- yellow rain boots, jacket and hat. In one hand she clutched her favorite toy dog ‘Raffi’.

With her free hand she picked up the dry dead worm corpses and placed them back into the puddles she thought they came from.

She was certain, in the idiot blind compassion of a child, that the water would re-hydrate the worms and they would come back to life. As if their only problem was dehydration and not … being mortal.

She cried when they didn’t come alive. Her mom bought her some candy and she moved on.

She later learned that worms drown in water. This is why they come out of their burrows when it rains: so they don’t drown. Not because they love the rainy weather, like she had imagined for so many years.

She probably saw that in a cartoon or something.

haunted horse (take two)

ok kiddies, i did it. i made a vlog.

be gentle...





ps. the lack of proper lighting was not intentional for effect. it appears that putting a video online will make it darker than how it looks on your camera. i guess every vlogger has to go through a learning curve.

haunted horse (take one)

last night i tried to jump on the vlogging bandwagon.

i got a solid grip with both hands, but my big toe slipped and i fell off. i think i twisted my knee as i rolled down a rocky embankment, choking on dust and shame.

i tried to get b to be my cameraman, but he was all technical and started talking about a contract and benefits, so i had to cut him loose from the vlog project. my style is more freelance and adaptive, i can't be tied down with worries about meeting the hr needs of my crew.

the next step was to try to do everything myself, production, editing, and airbrushing. just kidding, i don't even really know what air brushing is.

clearly, i was not successful.

vlogging is way harder than i thought it would be. or maybe it was just that i picked a challenging subject for my first attempt. you see, the story i wanted to share with you, the one about the haunted horse, has way more of an impact when you can see and hear it, as opposed to just reading about it. the pressure was too much for me and i crumbled under the stress.

i thought about writing the haunted horse story with some pictures to illustrate key points, but i'm not quite ready to give up on my (potentially) new path as a vlogger. i have to keep trying.

for now, i'll leave this post to be about the time i tried to vlog, rather than the time i tried to vlog about this crazy haunted horse story that goes like this.....

does that even make sense? i need more coffee...

nice to meet you crazy, i'm dumbass

i used to think that crazy found me no matter where i was. after some healthy reflection, i think i've decided that i have a tendency to not only invite crazy, but also to perpetuate crazy.

often times, i find myself taking conversations so literally that i can get lost in details and miss out on the big picture. please allow me to share the following example: the story of crazy at the dog park.

the setting was a neighborhood dog park in the level opening at the base of a hiking trail. it was february and the snow was deep enough to require some serious footwear, yet not too deep as to trouble the dogs.

an older woman, dressed in a long sleeved tie-dyed shirt, sans jacket but equipped with a pretty hefty scarf, approached my perch on the picnic table. her pen-on-a-string swayed to and fro as her long legs marched deliberately through the snow.

polite chit chat ensued, nice nice blah blah.

then she says 'the good thing about all this snow is how it freezes the biems in the ground, even when they're still hot.'

trying not to show my confusion, i attempt to process this statement. did she just tell me she freezes bagels in the ground? does she reheat them or just eat them frozen? is there some sort of 'end of days' bagel stash outside her house?

you see, when she said biem, i heard bialy, somehow mispronounced. for those of you who might not know, this is a bialy:



a weird bagel with no hole. completely unacceptable if you ask me, but that's not the issue.

only after days of pondering the strange conversation, did i realize that she mean bm, not biem. bm for bowel movement.

she was talking about how nice it was that the snow freezes her dog's poo, thus making it easier to pick up. i, however, was completely unaware of this at the time. i asked her questions about how rapid the freezing process was, depending on the size and other factors. i even went so far as to ask how often she tried that method, and with any other things.

we had this parallel conversation in which we talked about two very different things for close to ten minutes. she was happy to oblige my inquiries and seemed to get more excited the longer we talked.

if my clever little monster hadn't chosen the perfect moment to attack her poor, ragged looking mutt, i might still be there now discussing the energy efficient option of using snow as a freezer.

take that, sucker

hey reader, yes, you...

can you smell me?

i've worked up a dangerous sweat-stench that's most likely emanating from my body in visible stink lines. the noxious odor is probably making its way into my computer as i sit here type type typing away, through the nest of wires behind my ancient monitor, and directly into your private slice of internet.

this morning i had a glorious battle.

i wrestled with nature herself.

i bested a beast and made it squeal in agony.

i killed a spider.

but not just any spider. i discovered the queen disgusting spider of all gross spiders. she was rotund, with wiry black hairs covering her middle. she was about the size of a golf ball, or my hand. she moved so fast it was difficult to be certain.

she had built an elaborate web encasing the outer storm window in my bedroom, the one flanked by the pine tree that occasionally says 'hello' with a gentle scraping of pine cones across the glass.

within her masterfully crafted realm were two lesser spiders, probably males that she used as sex slaves. they were brown and skinny, small knots with little legs twisting out from their centers.

i took them out first.

as i slowly removed the web from the windowsill, i kept my eye on the queen. she darted towards my hands and then backed away slightly while circling for a better position. she was planning her attack. i knew time was running out.

in that moment of trying to keep my cool and finish the murderous job, i was struck with an idea. a notion so simple and yet so powerful that i knew i would not be defeated by the queen's venomous strike.

i reached for the hose of the nearby vacuum cleaner and switched on the suction.

the queen let out a singular wail of protest as her body was pulled through the vacuum hose and smashed into the filter. it was a defiant sound. one that makes me feel as though she may be back, vengeful and ready to rebuild her domain.

but not today.

today i am victorious.

and now, i'm going to recover from the exertion of this morning's efforts by sitting around feeling smug and superior to all spiders.