Untitled

So my computer is injured. It is a cute little Toshiba laptop and is of the variety that is old and persnickety and so it would prefer to be plugged into the wall. This of course negates the convenience of a laptop. Additionally, I used the hell out of the tiny mouse-nub above the space bar, so now I have two problems: 1) the space bar is totally jammed and this renders my computer useless for writing more than one-worders in searh enginges and 2) the cursor flies around the screen because it is willed by demons. I have started using my ho-hum plug-in mouse, further binding my sexy old laptop to the wall. Just thought you should know.
I am currently borrowing Bill's fancy new computer and I can hardly find the delete key. At any rate, Ruth and Bill both have new, pretty, and efficient computers, and mine seems like it's on its way to the nursing home. Just thought you should know.
My excitement for today includes three downtown real estate people, a pseudo-mystery-burglar, creaking floorboards, cops, and some newspeople. I was helping move some art around the gallery (one of my favorite activities) when the real estate folk from across the hall came to pay a visit. Now, they visit often, usually one at a time for coffee or a chat, but never en masse. So they just showed up, 4 or so of them, said that they shut down the office to avoid the police and the local news.
What?! I looked out the window, and men in navy shirts with POLICE printed across the shoulders were walking around the parking lot, searching. I guess there was some shady character that snuck in my building and snuck in to someplace he shouldn't be, and he scared someone in an office down the hall and maybe he was a suspect for something else somewhere else but I really couldn't say because I don't know anything about it. Except there were police in the parking lot and this was our excuse to have a mid-afternoon, let's-shoot-the-shit, eat some candy and make jokes break. While the "suspect" is being sought. So this is when I go to the downstairs gallery to do some work and the creaking floorboards come into play...
And then.... Can this be like a choose your own ending book? Here are your options:
1) I screamed and almost totaled a ceramic piece
2) I found the perp in the storage area going up the elevator
3) The cops came in and questioned each of us, then ate our candy
4) make up your own version and you are the coolest.

A little language of mine

I am still enjoying working at my heavenly job, even though heaven is pretty busy. This week we are taking donations of artwork for our benefit auction (over 200 pieces over 4 days. We have only one day left and over half the pledges left to go!!) . Auction, Auction, Auction. Auction Time! Auction Day! Auction Reception! The word is sweetly burned into my brain and on my tongue.
It's a good thing I got rid of some of my Maryville vocabulary to make room. No more student union, mid-term critique, Culture of Quality, 71 Highway, Mug Nite, and, the death of all word-deaths, "Bearcats." Hmm, typing them is strangely cathartic.
However, I do consider myself very lucky that I am in an environment where I can keep a lot of my art school vocab rolling. It's quite a kick 1) to say "gouache on Rives BFK" to a coworker and be understood, and 2) to get paid to spell it correctly.

A sketch

Apparently my New Year's resolution was something other than keeping my blog polished and shiny. Oops. Of course I have no excuse, you see, except that I have been kidnapped for a fortnight by the person who thought it would be a good idea to put four hours of television onto one DVD. This is probably the same person who invented Costco and supersizing of beverages and french fries. Damn them, one short little hour-long show just doesn't cut it for me anymore. I need mass quantities of Sex in the City and the O.C., as well as someone to blame it on.

My biggest funnest news is that I spent a weekend visiting two out-of-town friends (Sarah and Emily, very good to see them!) ---and I had my body cast into a plaster mold. This experience kicks nude modeling for drawing purposes' ass (hmm, ass and everything else that was revealed). And soon I will be receiving my payment, a paper-pulp cast Julie, in a box in the mail. What to do with that? I am thinking I could make it into a lamp...