Mind Vomit by the ikss

getting just three hours of sleep apparently does strange things to my sense of grammar

OK, kids…let’s talk about the Pine Hill Haints and the Guilty Hearts, shall we? Because they f’n rocked the Redwood Bar last night.

http://www.myspace.com/pinehillhaints
http://www.myspace.com/theguiltyhearts

Sadly (for me, not for Alabama), The Pine Hill Haints are from Alabama or some place very far away from Southern California and they were just passing through. Can I just say that any band who has a chick playing a saw is one of my favorite bands? Plus, they were just really rad. Traditional music, but with a unique flair and a whole lotta foot pounding drive.

Plus, their drummer looks like The Motorcycle Boy. And don’t think I didn’t tell him that. Of course, he had no idea what I was talking about.

Eh, kids today. I tells ya, they got no fuckin’ culture.

I won’t talk about the fact that Dr. Niece had no idea what a haint is. *sigh* You see what happens, Mom and Dad, when you move the family away from the South?

The Guilty Hearts kicked my ass. I danced til my feet were begging to be let out of my shoes. Luckily, they be local so I can sees ‘em again soon.

(Why am I writing in this strange language which only resembles English?)

So obviously I had me some fun last night. Dr. Niece and recently-married Niece were with me, also having fun.

Today, however? Not so much fun. I is tuckered. Mucho tuckered.

about my boobages

The underwire of my Victoria's Secret bra busted at about 10:00 this morning. So I'm walking around work today with a friggin' underwire poking in to my boobage.

Oh and also? If you look very closely at said boobage, it will appear that I have a dent along the side of it. Or possibly a tumor.

Luckily, nobody at work is looking that closely at my boobages.

Shut up.

showin' a little leg

OK, I honestly did not realize when I put it on this morning how much this skirt would ride up when I sit down.

It was a perfectly professional length when I walked to my car.

So needless to say, I am sitting very close to my desk today so that my legs are shoved under it. I am also hoping that not too many people need to swing by my office to discuss anything of vital importance.

Especially that guy from Accounting who I already know has a not-so-secret crush on me. You should see how flustered he gets around me. He’s adorable, really, and the only fun I have around the Friendly Flower Place is on the occasions when he finds an excuse to stop by my office. You know, to drop something off or to answer an email I sent him, rather than doing so in a one line emailed reply. I will never forget the look on the poor guy’s face the first time he actually came all the way in to my office. He saw pictures of The Old Man on my desk and his face fell to the floor. I felt so bad for him.

*sigh*

One of these days he will find a nice young hottie and fall in love and I shall be heartbroken. He’s very good for my ego. And about ten years younger than me.

I do, however, have a meeting at 10:30 this morning. And salesmen will be there. And you know, salesmen in general don’t exactly need any encouragement to look at a gal’s body as if it’s a plate of chicken wings.

Perhaps I didn’t make a very wise wardrobe decision this morning.

In other news - are you all watching Hung on HBO and Nurse Jackie on Showtime? Cuz if ya ain’t, ya should be.

updates, art shows and moves

Hello, old blog buddies of mine.

So I’ve been spending an inordinate amount of time writing these days. I mean, really writing. As I may have mentioned here a time or three thousand, I am working on a novel. Hence, my noted absence from this blog of late – all of my writing energy has been poured in to said novel. And while you may not think it takes much energy to create blog entries which begin with the words, “You would not believe the dream I had last night…” it does. Take energy, I mean. And that energy has recently been channeled elsewhere.

The good news is, I have written 215 pages of my novel, as of last night. Two hundred and fifteen friggin’ pages, mein peeps!

I am astounded.

And pleased. And excited. And excited that I am still excited about this.

I have gotten some feedback, finally, most importantly from two people whose opinions I trust and value, as I know they are being honest with me. I am therefore no longer in a constant state of panic over the thing, although I am already dreading the day when I am finished with it, because then I won’t have anything to be this excited about anymore.

How sorry is that, by the way? I am nowhere near done – especially if you consider the editing yet to come - and am already bumming about the prospect.

Anyway, my main reason for stopping by today is to let you all know that my niece’s brilliant husband Jared Schorr is showing a couple of pieces in a group show here in LA. The opening reception is this weekend. If the prospect of some really fine art is not enough of a draw, I shall be there Saturday night and who doesn’t want to hang out with me?

Show Details:
The Kids Are Alright
Opening Reception
Saturday, July 18th
7:00 pm – 10:30 pm
Black Maria Gallery
3137 Glendale Blvd.
Los Angeles, CA 90039

The show runs from July 18th – August 8th if you can’t make the opening

After the show, I’ll be going to the Cinema Bar to check out Tony Gilkyson, who I haven’t seen in years. But he shares a certain bass player with Mike Stinson, so Dr. Niece and I are going to check them out.

Speaking of Mr. Stinson…heartbreak has come to my little corner of the world, as I discovered that he is going to be moving. To Texas!

I can not even tell you how sad that makes me. I mean, good luck to him and all, but crap! Now I have to find a new honky tonk hero and let me just say that they are few and far between (although there is a remarkably large pool from which to choose here in the Southland).

l is for liza

OK...in last night's crazy-ikss dream, I was driving around in my Jetta with - wait for it...

With Liza Minelli as my passenger.

I was telling her how funny and cool she had been on the phone with Kathy Griffin a couple of weeks ago on My Life on the D List. Then it turned out I was driving her to appear on a variey show hosted by Mary Tyler Moore. Another guest that evening? Mitzi Gaynor.

The hell?

je ne regrette rien

Well hello there my peeps.

As you can see, the ol’ ikss is not dead, nor has she decided to forgo all things internetty and abandon her blog - at least not today. No, I have just been rather busy of late. Also, frankly, I really have nothing entertaining, amusing or bitch-worthy to write about. Or if I do, it’s not the sort of thing I really want to write about on a public blog.

I know, right? Who knew I had a filter?

Last weekend, I went to see my bro-in-law’s band play in Tustin. This was my first time going to see that band since The Halloween Incident, 2008. I actually had a great time. I danced so much my thighs were sore for the next two days. Two sisters, Dr. Niece and several of redheaded sister’s friends showed up, which was ample enough buffer between me and any ne’er do well types who may have been in attendance and eager to run me over with their pick-up trucks. I felt sufficiently safe, is my point. That’s always a good thing.

The band still sucks, but one can’t expect miracles, now can one?

On Saturday, my brunette sister hosted June’s Movie Club night. It was Dustin Hoffman night and we watched The Graduate and Little Big Man. I slept through half of LBM so I can’t really give it a fair review; but I don’t think it was the movie which put me to sleep. It was more likely the mere three hours of sleep I had the night before which was the cause. The Graduate was every bit as funny and great as I remembered it to be. I hadn’t seen it in some years, so I was happy to view it again. Oh and we had paninis. Love!

One last thing which happened this weekend? I dyed my hair. I am no longer a redhead, although some of the red remains (for now). I am now a brunette. It did not come out as dark as I wanted it and that shall be rectified the next time I have it dyed. I want my hair to be pert-near black.

I know – just in time for Summer!

Ah, me…I’ve always been a rebel.

I have also decided, after 40-plus years of living tattoo-free, that I am getting a tattoo in July. I almost hate to say it, let alone do it, because everybody and his brother has a tattoo nowadays. But here’s the thing – one of the many drawbacks to having somebody try to kill me last year is that I have been left with many scars on my body. I decided to turn one of those scars, which is on my right shoulder, into a tattoo. It is going to be a dreamcatcher, which has significance for me not just because I am obsessed with all things Native American but because I am also plagued with nightmares and night terrors (I know – I am seriously fucked up and a whole lotta fun to sleep with). Maybe having my own private dreamcatcher on my shoulder will take those things away and pass them on through to the other side.

I know, but it’s worth a shot, right?

The dreamcatcher is going to be surrounded by the words: Je Ne Regrette Rien. Yes, it’s a song, in French, made famous by Edith Piaf. More importantly, it means “I Regret Nothing”.

‘Nuff said.

perky todd

OK, I know we all hate those blog entries which begin with the words “I have to tell you about the dream I had last night.”

But seriously – I have to tell you about the dream I had last night.

In my dream, I was starring in a stage production of Sweeney Todd. Which was being performed…in the nude. So there I was, prancing all over the stage singing songs about baking meat pies – completely sans clothing.

And the topper? Robert Pattinson and Jackson Rathbone were in the audience.

Of course, you could tell it was a dream and not reality because my breasts were about half their normal size and extremely perky.

my life in movies...well, kinda...actually, not really...at all...

Last night was awesome. It was Elia Kazan night on the Turner Classic Movie channel so I watched On the Waterfront, followed by East of Eden.

*sigh*

I thought life couldn’t get much better, until the sex happened, also.

Plus, I got a lot of writing done! Although the writing was actually interrupted by the sex, but not all things in life are perfect, now are they?

because apparently I did not get enough wine in napa

I am going to a champagne, cheese and chocolate tasting this evening. By the ocean. Doesn’t that just sound divine? The only thing which could possibly make it better would be if George Clooney were serving said champagne, cheese and chocolate. Wearing only a grin.

Afterward, you will of course find me at the closing reception for Christopher Sweeney’s exhibit at the Azteca Gallery. Drop by and say hi. Oh and also see some great paintings.

I’m unsure what else is going on this weekend. I desperately need to get my car washed, but Mother Nature is supposed to sprinkle some rain on So Cal over the weekend, so really – what would be the point in that? I am truly hoping to catch up on some sleep and also my netflixed movies, which have been sitting on my nightstand for two weeks. I know that sounds like just too much partying for a woman of my advanced years, but I gotta live now, don’t I?

Have a lovely weekend, kids.

*peace, love and smooches*

in which the ikss draws a precarious line from napa to shooter jennings

I’m off to Napa again this coming weekend. I know – I should totally own property up there. *sigh* If only… (yeah, if only that stupid Cheryl Smith hadn’t stolen my HGTV Dream Home!). I leave Friday afternoon and come home late Monday.

Too bad I am poor as a hobo right now, so my wine purchases will be few.

On the flip side, I belong to so many friggin’ wine clubs that I will still get to taste lots of wine - for free! Plus, it should be lovely up there right now. It’s not too hot yet and, well, it’s the Napa Valley (and Sonoma. I tend to lump them together, which is not fair to Sonoma – especially since I actually prefer Sonoma to Napa). Oh and yeah – I will get to spend lots of time with my crazy, but ultra-loveable, family; but whatever with that. I go for the vino. :)

I spent all of my “fun money” this month on art. I bought a portrait of my niece, done by Christopher Sweeney, and I bought three pieces done by my other niece’s husband, Jared Schorr. I need to take photos and post them here, don’t I? Cuz they are rad.

Oh here is one of the items I purchased from Jared. You can buy one too and be just like me (admit it - you long to emulate the ikss)!

I also purchased one in the same style, which is of an octopus, and a much larger one which has a circus theme and tiny elephants. Trust me – it totally rocks. Or it will, when I can actually pick it up and hang it in my living room. That’s the problem with purchasing art. Often, the artist needs your piece for a show or whatever.

In other news, I am listening to Shooter Jennings right now. He frustrates me. He’s so inconsistent. The songs of his which are good are really f’n good and I adore them (Gone to Carolina, 4th of July, Lonesome Blues, Sweet Savannah)…then there are songs like Alligator Chomp and Bad Magick . Sheesh…

I am almost loath to admit, though, that I find Shooter to be sexy. It must be the latent hick in me who appreciates his long hair and extreme amount of facial hair. Plus, with the ever-present sunglasses, I don’t think I have ever seen his eyes. I don’t even think he showed them when he played his daddy Waylon in Walk the Line, did he?

I don’t even like guys who can’t bear to remove their sunglasses! It’s so lame and pretentious and I don’t trust people who won’t look me in the eye.

Ssshhhh…don’t tell on me. My baser instincts are so embarrassing.