Dreams - - Illustration Friday
Here's my submission for Illustration Friday's topic "Dreams". It's based upon a dream I had long, long ago. I was probably 10 or so. The figure being chased..me!... has been aged a bit too. :-)
Here's my submission for Illustration Friday's topic "Dreams". It's based upon a dream I had long, long ago. I was probably 10 or so. The figure being chased..me!... has been aged a bit too. :-)
When we took our trip to Texas this spring, it initially was planned as a trip to New Orleans. I was in NOLA for Mardi Gras about 5 or 6 years ago. I liked it a lot, but really felt that I wasn't able to see the true nature of the city, so I had always planned on going back during non-Mardi Gras times. I'm hoping that it will still be there in close to its original splendor when I do make it back.
In a related thought, last night, the thought occurred to me that if I were Bill Gates or one of the Walmart clan or _______insert billionaire name here, that I would have a staff of 100+ "do-gooders" whom I would pay handsomely, of course. When disasters were to strike or after disasters happen, I would send the staff off to clean-up, assist with evacuations, etc. They could be dispatched quickly on the private planes from my fleet. On "normal" days, they would be sent to inner city areas or rural areas to do clean up activities, painting, rebuild structures, etc. It would be like my own private Peace Corps. But, no politics. No middle man. Just me, sending out my extended hands to "do good" whatever that might be? How cool would that be?
I go into my favorite restaurant in town. The woman at the front says, "How many?" I say, "Five."
She says, "Name?" I say my last name. She says, "Orca-son?"
Now, I know I'm fat, but c'mon...killer-whale size? I really wanted to say, "Is that some sort of fat joke???" but I didn't. I'm sure it wasn't, it just struck me as awfully funny. I'm officially changing my name to "Catherine Orca-Son", just so ya know.
It looks like we’ve got a terrorist within our borders that should be dealt with swiftly. Pat Robertson has called for the assassination of a foreign government official. How is this any different than Bin Laden or _______(insert your favorite terror monger here) calling for death to the Prez of the
My friend Kimmmmmmy and I have been contacted by a documentary film group about having our photos from the Big Girl, Big Stuff Tours appear in a documentary about the World's Largest Twine Ball (built by one man) in Darwin, Minnesota. Apparently the the guy who's in charge of the twine ball museum remembered and mentioned us when he was getting interviewed. (How could he forget us? We're just so darned cute! :-) ) Sounds like .32 minutes of fame is in our future. We'll see. I could also see us landing on the cutting room floor, too!
Last night we took it to a friend's house for its "maiden voyage" at their "scone night". (If you're not from Utah, you probably are picturing different scones than what we have here. In Utah, scones are basically just deep fried regular bread dough. Not sweet like doughnuts.) Anyway, the raspberry-lime was a huge hit. Yay! Peach butter was too, but that was one from last year. (It's sooooo last year. ;-) )
From this weekend:
The Buzz Ivan and I went on a mini-road trip to Wyoming. It was so much cooler up there than in the Wasatch valley and just a gorgeous day in general too. While we were driving just past Evanston, WY, we had our windows partially rolled down. I was happily drinking a frapuccino-type drink from the local convenience store when all of a sudden…SMACK… “Aaaack!” I screamed. I had been hit. Quickly my brain tried to figure it out…did my drink “burp up” through the straw? Did I get hit by a rock? I look down and see a dead bee. I had been smacked just above the eye by a wayward bee. It died on impact. How did it maneuver it’s way in to get hit by my big fat head? Just very strange. (I know, I write a lot about insects in my blog, but I swear I have more run-ins with them now than I ever did in my life.) Luckily, I survived the accident.
Pair of Genes We stopped near a ghost town about 20 minutes outside of Evanston. A nearly idyllic area for free range cattle – lots of gently rolling hills, streams, and lots of grasses. I watched a herd of cows and their calves for a little while. It was nearing sunset, and they got up, one by one and followed the Queen cow down the knoll. What was curious to me was that after each cow, followed a calf that looked identical to it’s mother. Black cow, black calf, dark brown cow, dark brown calf, black body white face cow, black body white face calf. Eight different pairings, each had an identical momma cow/calf component. Where’s the bull in all of this? I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t know everything about genetics, but I thought dominant/recessive genes play a roll. Given that there were 8 pairs of identical cows/calves, does that mean that the bull was completely recessive? Is that possible? For the father bull, I can only picture some sad-sack, depressed bull. He’s small, about 5 feet tall, probably blond fur. He keeps his head to the grass at all times, except when he’s called to “perform”. Hmmm..maybe I’m getting depressive confused with recessive? But seriously, if you were completely made of recessive genes, is there any point in reproducing? Just made me go “hmmmm…”
Odd feeling… Ivan sent me this link. It is cool and disturbing. The mixture of technological “wow” combined with an uneasy pit in my stomach. Ick. Cool. Ick. Oh, you can "save" her by clicking and dragging her. Set her on a bubble. Help will be along shortly. You've done your job.
Two exploding things to talk about in Utah…a truck that was carrying something like 35 THOUSAND pounds of explosives blew up yesterday. When the truck carrying the explosives got in an accident, the truck exploded, taking out a huge chunk of roadway in a canyon south of here. 35 THOUSAND pounds of explosive? It could be just me, but maybe they should be carrying smaller loads of explosives? Eh? What do I know? I’ll tell you what I know! Cans of soda put in the freezer for more than just a few minutes can and do explode. I put a can of Coke in the freezer to chill it down so that it was going to be a full-fledged frosty beverage. It’s warm here. Who wants room-temp Coke in the summer?! Anyway, I put it in the freezer and promptly forgot about it. Turns out I didn’t really want a soda to drink, eh? (See the weaning from soda entirely *is* working…kinda…well, somewhat.) If you’ve never experienced the exploding soda can, let me tell you… the aftermath is really pretty cool albeit a pain in the arse to clean up. The can must have exploded when most of the contents were already frozen. The top of the freezer had coke slush on it. If it was only liquid when it came out, I figure that would have dripped down. Looking in the can itself, the sides were completely solid, but there was a wormhole of sorts through the center of the explosion. Almost as if a creature leapt from the bottom of the can and out the top. Kinda cool. Really!
What’s more empty than having a loved one die? That’s my concept for this week’s Illustration Friday topic. I spent about an hour and ten minutes on it. Very close to my goal time. I’m enjoying learning more about Flash as I work on these, too.
I sold my first photo at istockphoto.com! Yay! Yay! Huzzah and all that!
For those of you who travel by plane often, I'm sure you're aware of the new security measures being taken at our airports. One new item that I don't recall when I flew to Dallas last April is the "Cleared" TSA sticker that was applied to my bag's standard luggage tag. I've heard that all pieces of luggage must pass through x-ray monitors now. I'm assuming that the "cleared" sticker is ~proof~ that the bag is safe.
What scares me is that it reminds me of the early 90s when I worked for a company that virus scanned floppy disks and then applied "clean" stickers on them. Sure, it makes sense that the disk was clean at that point, but what people failed to realize at that time was that the sticker represented that the disk was clean only at the time it was checked. If an individual took that disk to a computer that had a boot virus, for instance, the disk would be infected, yet still bear the "clean" sticker. It was a naive sense of security for a relatively naive time, technologically speaking. The same idea was used for individuals carrying a "HIV-free" card several years later -- again, a dumb and naive idea for a new concept in feeling secure.
Now, our bags are scanned and stickered. The stickers have the tear-perfs on them to show if the sticker has been tampered, but the silly thing is that the stickers are put on the tag that goes around the handle, not around the parts of the bag that could be opened. What's the point? If my bag, which has been "cleared" by someone at check-in, but then tampered with by someone in luggage handling, and then the final handler who puts the luggage on the plane double checks to see that the bag has been "cleared", has no idea of the tampering that took place when the bags changed hands and innocently lets the bag pass. Methinks there ought to be a better way. Maybe the scanning of the bags should take place immediately before they're put on the plane? Or maybe at check-in and again directly before boarding? If not that, maybe we shouldn't be wasting money on stickers that give a false sense of security??
Shirring, also known as “rouching” on clothing. (I think that’s how it’s spelled anyway.) Why, oh, why do clothing manufacturers use this technique on shirts? Much less, why on fat chick clothing? It’s not hiding anything. It’s, instead, providing additional rolls to an already rolls-a-plenty body. Ugh. Not to mention that it just looks cheap’n’ugly. Ugh.I'll be commenting on fashion from time to time. Not that I'm a fashion know-it-all, by any stretch of the imagination, but I'm hoping at some point someone who is in the industry will actually listen. Eh. I'm sure it won't make any difference, but dang it's fun to point out uglee fashions that are being offered out there.
Oh, since I'm on the subject of clothing, I had an opportunity to stop by a Catherine's store in Minneapolis. (We don't have Catherine's in Utah.) It's been a while since I've done any shopping at Catherine's, but it's almost like time hasn't past. Every year at this time, without fail, they have their dress-the-fat-lady-in-4th-of-July-wear selection. It's always on the wall displays in the store, not just hidden in the clearance racks. Not sure why, but there it is, in all of it's glory -- the stripes and stars blazing in red-white-n-blue on camp shirts. At least 4 varieties of prints, too. It is August, right? The 4th-of-July fest is long since over, but apparently patriotism lives deep within the fat chick's heart. Don't burn the flag...instead wear it in your armpits!