Hi ho, neighbors. It's Pollen Season, which means I am miserable. MIZZ. ERR. AH. BULL. Filthy filthy plants and their filthy filthy plant sex! I'm looking at you, cypress tree. Night-blooming jasmine, you're also on my shit list. I'm developing asthma from all this crap in the air. BAH.
In other news, I'm smaller than I used to be. I know this, because these pants don't really fit anymore, unless they're fresh out of the dryer. I was able to wear the Skinny Pants to an event on Saturday, and the Spanx weren't for gutsucking, they were for warmth (I needed another layer between my ass and the night air, as the Skinny Pants are very very thin). Aqui esta los Skinny Pantalones (no hablo Espanol).
Taking a picture of your own ass is not easy. It's less round than it looks in this pic. I have Pancake Ass syndrome. I don't care, though. Also, I am fond of this scarf. Stars.
The event Saturday required a bit more than my usual heinous stylings, so I opted to don the medium anime hair (aka my usual 'do, only with bigger buns). Giant Turbo Anime Hair is twice the size, and purple. Purple stains the bath towels. It's reserved for the most special of occasions (like never).
|My student's don't recognize me without a version of this hairdo.|
I believe in fake hair. I believe in it utterly, totally, completely. This 'do is anemic without it. Majestic panda head.
Okay, on to the bragging. I'm not bad at bragging, generally. I'm terrible at taking compliments (just say thank you, just say thank you, just say thank you), but I will toot my own horn. Of course, I'll also cut myself down pretty quickly, but it's always very honest. I like to think that I just state facts. I'm a good cook, but a terrible gardener, and such and so forth.
SHIT I'M GOOD AT:
I'm a really good teacher. I can figure out a way to explain damn near anything that I understand myself. Today, I explained pH as a molecule party. Some molecules, like water, are mellow. They just wanna hang out. If you pour them in your eye, they're cool, man. Some molecules, like hydrogen, like to start fights. If there are only a few of them at the party, no big deal, because they can't cause too much trouble. But if there's a lot of them, they'll just start swinging on anything they come into contact with. We call those things "acids, " and the more angry hydrogens there are, the stronger it is. If you pour lemon juice in your eye, those hydrogens will beat the crap out of your eye. Hydroxides are also angry, but in a slightly different way, and we call them "bases." If hydrogen likes to punch, hydroxides like to kick. Both are not things that you usually want invited into your eye party. Sometimes, if you mix them together, they'll beat each other up and run out of energy. Yeah, it's simplistic, but they're fourth graders. Tell me that's not an entertaining visual.
|Leg bone's connected to the hip bone...|
Speaking of entertaining visuals, here's me teaching the Comparative Anatomy Show.
I am a very good animal caregiver. I can handle some gruesome pet health business. My cat has chronic kidney problems, diabetes, and food allergies. My dog has an autoimmune disease, lingering corneal damage from Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever, and occasional bouts of pancreatitis. Damned if they're gonna waste away and suffer on my watch!
|Screw you, kidney infection.|
|Yes, the dog is wearing an amulet pouch.|
Cone of shame, and bandage of shame. Nope, nobody dies from fixable ailments. Not in my house. For the record, they're both hale and hearty at the moment, but the cat has a lump that feels suspiciously like a kidney enlarging. We're going to the vet on Thursday morning.
I am very good at calming people down. I don't get upset very often, and I can usually use my unemotional, neutral personality to drag people out of hysteria and spiraling thought patterns. Come, let's be calm together. Caaaaaaalm. Caaaaaaaalm. I don't have an illustration for this particular skill, so here's a picture of a cocktail.
|Delicious delicious booze.|
I'm good at making things. I suppose you could call me an artist, but I think that sometimes implies a certain temperament or method of creating things. I don't think I have an artistic temperament. You know how some artists can give you a highfalutin sort of description of what they're doing and why they're doing it? I just stand there looking confused, point at the object, and say "I'm entertaining myself. You want one? I'll make you one."
Sometimes I sew. Here's a bat bunting for an infant. Sometimes an idea pops into my head whole. This is one of those times.
|I'm not breeding. My friends are.|
Sometimes I paint. It's usually in acrylics, and is rarely very large.
Sometimes I'll do a series of something. These were little plastic toys with a terrible paint job, about five inches tall. The first one was the original, the rest are my paint jobs. Each of the owls and butterflies is a different, possibly identifiable species. I have a whole box of these little girls, waiting for pretty dresses. A few of them are self portraits.
|Witchypoo #2: Crayola|
|Witchypoo #4: Nocturnia|
|Witchypoo #5: Jardin|
|The S is for Swing. Not really.|
I have been known to sculpt. Here's me and a goblin named Derp. He's also a self portrait.
I also do beadwork. This was a hair thingamajiggy for a bride.
|Even when I try to do something different, they all end up looking like this.|
I'm not very good at photographing my work, and I often forget to do it altogether. I have many creations out in the world, completely undocumented. You'd think I'd learn, right?
Anyhoo. I could go on, but this is already too long. My laundry is almost done, and that means it's almost time to wash this awful pollen off my body, and go to bed. This is, of course, provided that the dog calms down and gets it through her skull that we're not going on a second walk this evening. Sorry dog, still can't breathe. Bedtime is coming early for Girl and Dog.