Small Fortunes (and an even smaller misfortune)

Dan and I have been working for the last few years, lackadaisically, on a project we called "101 fortunettes."

We started collaborating on art when we were dating, and after we broke up, we had our first show, at the Hopvine in Capitol Hill.

I hope you'll join us - we'll be celebrating Dan's birthday and our cute little art at Hooverville, 1721 1st Ave S, Seattle, on NOVEMBER 25th at 6pm.
There will be snacks. And lots of love to go 'round.

So - when we were counting up what we had done, what we had left, how many frames we had, etc, we came up 6 frames short. Not too shabby for a three-year unorganized project, neh? So I went to Ikea to pick up 6 more Raket frames. Guess what? Raket frames were taken off the market. Why? Because Raket frames are dangerous. (I cut my hands countless times framing the first 65 fortunettes, then I learned how to wear preventative bandaids.)

So we are scrounging around our houses - it's just sort of unthinkable that those last six frames could run us $30 - they are on eBay- as they were originally $1.99 for three.

If any one reading this has any 4"x6" Ikea Raket frames, i'll totally give you a free fortunette.

It only took four years...

I have finally become the gentry. All of my neighbors are moving out, apparently convinced that the housing market is at its peak, and now is the time to realize dreams of quarter-millionaire-itude.

Like, all the neighbors.

I doubt I've scared them off - except for the duplex, I've got seniority in this end of my block.

I have lived, in my home, here, in south park Seattle, for longer than I've ever lived anywhere. Which is neither a great feat nor a particularly shabby one. Pretty mediocre feat, actually. I've lived other places for 3andahalf years, I've lived here for 4andamonth years.

But I feel like it's time to move, because I've now *and will continue to* live(d) here for longer than I've lived anywhere else.

I'm interested to see how that time-schedule manifests itself. I don't think that I've gotten off track, but I have been really having the wander-jizz in my dreams. I've been having a recurring dream that i am roadtripping in italy with either my mom or scott or dad (they being the three most important people in my life) and I come to a town, which is renown for its exquisite and completely unique cooking style/ I enter the town and it is like driving through stucco hallways and white wrought-iron gates.

I eat, with my companion, and it is always super succulent tentacle-d things, blue grains, churning fruitcocktails - really worth whatever it is i KNOW i gotta go through, and then the exits start closing while my companion and I are discussing the tip, or something equally nonessential. The exits close, sometimes we have the opportunity to escape some other way, but I always end up in the servant-class, thinking, "Why - why didn't I just look for excitement someother way??!!!?"

And that's the moral of the story. I am scared of finding excitement in the routine. After years and years and years (26 or so) of looking for the next novelty - I have to seek the bliss that comes from constancy. and it's harder than I would have imagined.

why not every day?

I can only imagine that Halloween was a slightly different cultural phenomenon when Jello Biafra sang about it on the 1982 Dead Kennedy's record (Plastic Surgery Disasters, which is scarily NOT first on the google results). If Halloween were every day, the number of sluts in the nation would octuple. Coverage in the news media has focused on how slutty Halloween costumes are. Some recent articles I've read have made a point that Halloween is time to let your "inner bad girl" out.

I have often been a fan of the slutty costume. Not every year (I've gone as a mechanic - NOT a sexy mechanic - and an acid casualty) but often. This year, I definitely rocked the slut.


I went as Raggedy Annie Sprinkle. I brought titprints to hand out, though mine didn't turn our nearly as well as hers. Perhaps I can chalk that up to experience (being a first-time-tit-printer and all). Scott went as Raggedy Anton LaVey. (shown here with Chris Farley)

Saturday was the annual Compound Halloween party - So Much Fun!
I hope that some of the eighty-million people who took my picture will email them to me.

By Tuesday, I was not up to rockin' that dress again. I felt grateful to whatever laws of physics I bent and didn't want to press my luck. (I somehow managed not to have a nip-slip for the 10 hours i was out wearing that dress, thank you physics) So Scott & I dressed up as goths and went to Capitol Hill. Not a tremendous stretch. but a costume, none the less. Then I put on Dan's groucho glasses.

The weather was cooperative this year - no rain to speak of until after all good children should be home anyway.

I'm totally sick of people now, though. I am planning on hermiting-up until November 25th, when I will see all you at Hooverville.