tobermory's Diaryland Diary


More Pee Patrol

So, as usual, everything in my life craps out at the same time. My Jeep needed a new radiator and Toby has some sort of bladder inflammation/infection. $500 for the Jeep and $200 for the cat. Thankyaverymuch. Hey, if it will stop my beloved Jeep from overheating and the cat from peeing on the sofa I will consider it money well spent. Toby had to spend the day at the kitty Gulag (ie the vet) and he managed to pee of his own free will therefore avoiding the Big Squeeze from the meaty handed vet tech to get it the other way. The pee was Not Normal. No major problems, but there were some abnormalities so now I get to spend the next ten days jamming antibiotic pills down his gullet. Toby is the most addle-brained of the three cats and Im sure this whole deal the pills, the locking him in the plastic shrouded room when Im not home, and me trailing him around the house on Pee Patrol is not making him any more sane or boosting his fragile self-esteem. I guess its better than swapping him with a lookalike cat at the shelter.

On the upside of things, Steve and I had a nice (but expensive) weekend. We went back up to Milwaukee to a gallery and bought a couple of pieces of art. We visited this gallery when we were up in Milwaukee a few weeks ago and saw some stuff we liked and after some discussion decided to make an acquisition. Or two. I think Ive mentioned that Steve and I like outsider or self-taught art. Yes, some of it is crap that looks like a child scribbled on a piece of cardboard, but some it is amazing and lovely and fascinating. Part of the appeal is the story behind the art. Some institutionalized guy creates an illustrated manifesto, an autistic man paints Nabisco cookies over and over and over, or a recluse sculpts intricate dolls for his make-believe world. One of my favorite recognized artists is Joseph Cornell and what is his work really, but outsider art? Cornell was a crabby recluse who lived in his childhood home and painstakingly put together dioramas and shadow boxes that were often paeans to long dead ballet and opera stars. Nutty? Yes. But also brilliant and inspiring. So, this is a roundabout way of saying that we bought some outsider art. Per se. The gallery we went to carries both contemporary and outsider art, but when we went in there was no outsider stuff to be seen. But, I started talking to the guy in charge and apparently I used the right code words: Intuit Gallery Chicago, Folk Art Museum NY, Art Chicago, Stray Show, blahbity blah blah. And these words were they key to getting him to open up the flat file in the back. There were a few things that were interesting a small Howard Finster head, some work by an institutionalized Belgian man.. But then he opened the lower left drawer almost as an afterthought and there was this amazing stuff something I never would have though of before but once I saw it I was captivated. Vintage tattoo flash art. It is so cool, and it appeases my latent desire for a tattoo. The flash art is from the 40s back in the days when a tattoo parlor would have a particular artist and hed draw up designs that he could do as opposed to now when its mostly computer generated. For me this was an exciting find. But also a kinda expensive one. Not a major expense, and definitely worth it. Were heading up next weekend to pick it up and I cant wait. Whee!

This past week has been really busy. Between running, spinning, the shelter, and being on pee patrol, Ive had a full plate hence few updates.

I did get a call from my friend Ken (who somehow or other mysteriously found this journal Hi Ken!) who is coming to town later this month. Always good to see Ken, and although I suspect it secretly drives Steve nutso, I can always brag about my ex-boyfriend who is uber-successful and writes for Esquire and writes books and knows Rudy Guiliani and had a magazine (and Im not just saying that because he might be reading this I really do brag about having dated such a smarty). He let me know that my previously mentioned collegiate unrequited crush Jason is engaged. To a former stripper. Wah. Not wah that hes getting married thats a good thing. I love being married it was the best thing I ever did and I picked (or he picked me) the best man for me that I could have ever found and I sincerely hope that everyone who wants to get married is able to find someone compatible that they love. But does that person have to be an ex-stripper? Boo hoo. To me that says, HA! You never had a chance in HELL! You average bodied gal, you! I know that sounds weird, but thats just how my brain works. Its not like I ever wanted to marry Jason. In fact, when I had my crush on him I was relatively inexperienced with even the whole sex thing so Im not really sure what I wanted anyway. And in the ensuing years I was only in contact with him a few times mostly to beg copies of bootleg and unreleased Del Amitri CDs - so its not like I was actively pining away for him. Ill just stop now in case Ken wickedly decides to forward this link to Jason and then I will have completely embarrassed myself. I mean, someday I might want to hit Jason up for a CD of Right Profile stuff and then where would I be? Too shamed to ask thats where. A girl needs to keep her options open.

Im off for now another busy weekend is (over) scheduled. Dinner tonight with my friend Alli, archery meet tomorrow morning, going to see Supersize Me! tomorrow night, orienteering on Sunday morning and then my nephews high school graduation on Sunday night. And somewhere in there I need to mow the lawn and weed my garden. And try to (finally) do an update from home. Well see Ill keep you posted.

11:00 a.m. - 2004-06-04


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