Sweet Thief

Last night I was listening to a radio piece about art heists, and the speaker was explaining how the thieves aren't the suave, handsome characters from film, but rather look and act like regular schmoes. He insisted that these people don't "wear baklavas and smoking jackets..." and I thought, "Baklava wouldn't be a very sophisticated disguise." However, given further thought, a burglar disguised as pastry is a concept I can endorse...it's genius, the height of deception, and delicious!

Potat-owl

While I was peeling potatoes to make a curry this weekend, I found this growth in the last potato. I'm not a big believer in religious images popping up in oil slicks or french toast like some more fervent people, but this is my equivalent. It's a perfect owl!! I have a mild owl obsession that started in my childhood. I was completely infatuated with Greek mythology, and I had a particular affinity for the really kick-ass goddesses like Athena and Artemis. Athena's animal is the owl, and one of my favorite incarnations of this was Bubo, the mechanical owl from the movie "Clash of the Titans." The character Wall-E kind of reminds me of Bubo in mannerism and aptitude for bumbling cuteness.




I recently remembered the character Archimedes from "The Sword and the Stone." I'm not a huge Disney fan, but this movie was part of a pocket of time when the animated films were quirky and odd and far less slick than today. I loved Archimedes crusty, fussy attitude, and I would imitate his voice to the best of my little-kid ability.




It's kind of embarrassing that I'm posting about owls, but it's probably time I admitted it. My husband gets a little spooked when I bring in more owl stuff, but it's fairly rare nowadays. I did have a really intense dream months ago that I was walking in a forest with a talking owl. I guess that's an indication that the animal is a part of my totem. Owl medicine is connected to communicating wisdom and guidance, and I value that. Plus, they are such physically interesting animals, both eerie and charming. It's written that the owl is the messenger of death; not necessarily actual, physical death (!) but a dying of a part of oneself to make way for new growth.

Old man winter is a big fat hobo

So....winter. Do you have a minute? Can we talk? Come into my office....

I get it. It's cool. You can't help yourself. You just feel compelled to dump snow, and blow shit around and freeze over so that I literally slip OUT of my car. Hey, I know somebody's got to do this job. But could you stop begin such a *dick* about it? Please? That little snow emergency prank you pulled was really cute, but I don't have $200 dollars floating around to spend on a tow fee. Are you going to work an extra shift for me?

*sigh, eye roll*

February, I know I posted about this last time. But man, it's a painful month. I'm really anticipating some birthday celebrating this coming week. I just have to get through a shift tonight and a critique in class this week before I can go into party mode. I think lots of people need an excuse to play lately. Whenever I see friends, there is always a weight that keeps us trudging along, shoulders slumped and brows furrowed. Times are tough!

However, I was reminded of something last night that takes the edge off:



Now see if you don't giggle a little bit.

Most boring note ever.

February...not a terribly exciting month, even though I was born in February. The weather is so complicated, so dreary and contrary. The snow is melting and I can start to see all the litter that my neighbors have left like gems to be slowly revealed. Yuck. How does a whole cupboard full of snack bags end up under our pine tree? Could it be the same way that the fish heads wrapped in newspaper (?!?!) ended up by the fence? Who litters anymore? Haven't the PC police infiltrated every demographic of America by now?

Gotta take the oldest cat to the vet. Gotta drink more water. Haven't seen most of my girlfriends in ages. Somehow my bangs have grown over my eyelashes in a week. My husband and I have a surrogate Valentine's Day dinner planned for later this week. Good god what else. Off to dreamland...

NSFW: Christian Bale might flip on a dude, but at least you can dance to it?!

(Warning: bad, bad language)

Things that happened in NYC on our trip

-saw the Marlene Dumas show at MOMA
-refused to roll around at the Pipilotti Rist installation. I'm not a dirty hippie.
-dog-watched from a bar while everyone else drank whiskey in the afternoon
-ate a delicious banana cupcake
-watched a woman barf in a terrible Irish bar in midtown, check her hair for remnant puke, and then shake some dude's hand
-reacquainted with a high school friend-of-a-friend who owns a gallery in the Meatpacking District
-saw the William Eggleston retrospective
-ate oysters with Rob, Emily and Scott (*they were much better than the ones I had at the bull and oyster roast in Maryland in 2001)
-walked and walked and walked in the cold cold cold
-had amazing brunch with friends in Brooklyn
-ate slices of pizza late at night so I could keep drinking
-had vivid dreams while sleeping on air mattresses
-had a romantic cab ride with Rob in the upper East side
-thought that I saw Maggie Gyllenhaal walking in the East Village with a yoga mat under her arm, but it probably wasn't her
-spent time with some lovely, sweet, generously accommodating friends
-had to wear so many layers of clothes that I felt like I was wearing a fat suit, or like I was that kid in "A Christmas Story" who "can't put his arms down!!"
-was eating dumplings when the plane crash landed in the Hudson
-split a bottle of champagne with Emily-it was fun having it at our end of the table!
-fell even just a little more in love with my husband

Modern Interpretation

Portia and Tim as somewhat inspired by Reuben's Sampson and Delilah