A Site of Beef by Ann-S-Thesia
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10/29/2000 - 11/04/2000
11/05/2000 - 11/11/2000
11/12/2000 - 11/18/2000
11/19/2000 - 11/25/2000
11/26/2000 - 12/02/2000
12/03/2000 - 12/09/2000
12/10/2000 - 12/16/2000
12/17/2000 - 12/23/2000
12/24/2000 - 12/30/2000
12/31/2000 - 01/06/2001
01/07/2001 - 01/13/2001
01/14/2001 - 01/20/2001
01/21/2001 - 01/27/2001
01/28/2001 - 02/03/2001
02/04/2001 - 02/10/2001
02/11/2001 - 02/17/2001
02/18/2001 - 02/24/2001
02/25/2001 - 03/03/2001
03/04/2001 - 03/10/2001
03/11/2001 - 03/17/2001
03/18/2001 - 03/24/2001
03/25/2001 - 03/31/2001
04/01/2001 - 04/07/2001
04/08/2001 - 04/14/2001
04/15/2001 - 04/21/2001
04/22/2001 - 04/28/2001
04/29/2001 - 05/05/2001
05/06/2001 - 05/12/2001
05/13/2001 - 05/19/2001
05/20/2001 - 05/26/2001
05/27/2001 - 06/02/2001
06/03/2001 - 06/09/2001
06/10/2001 - 06/16/2001
06/17/2001 - 06/23/2001
06/24/2001 - 06/30/2001
07/01/2001 - 07/07/2001
07/08/2001 - 07/14/2001
07/15/2001 - 07/21/2001
07/22/2001 - 07/28/2001
07/29/2001 - 08/04/2001
08/05/2001 - 08/11/2001
08/12/2001 - 08/18/2001
08/19/2001 - 08/25/2001
08/26/2001 - 09/01/2001
09/02/2001 - 09/08/2001
09/09/2001 - 09/15/2001
09/16/2001 - 09/22/2001
09/23/2001 - 09/29/2001
09/30/2001 - 10/06/2001
10/14/2001 - 10/20/2001
10/21/2001 - 10/27/2001
10/28/2001 - 11/03/2001
11/04/2001 - 11/10/2001
11/11/2001 - 11/17/2001
11/18/2001 - 11/24/2001
11/25/2001 - 12/01/2001
12/02/2001 - 12/08/2001
12/09/2001 - 12/15/2001
12/16/2001 - 12/22/2001

Friday, June 29, 2001

Weather permitting, Stan, Tim and I will go up to Devil's Lake tomorrow. I'm feeling a bit strange...I do not have a swimsuit and haven't had one since I've been unable to fit into my old bikini. I've just used shorts and a tank top. It's not like I swim or sunbathe, so I really don't need one. I feel fat. I think I'm the fattest I've ever been. I know I don't look fat in this latest picture, but I'm not wearing skimpy summer clothes in it either. I used to be incredibly thin. I used to worry that I'd never be built like a woman...that I'd always be a rail. My mom would talk disparagingly about her mother-in-law who never weighed over 100 pounds, like it was a bad thing. So I did not want to grow up to look like that grandmother. As it is, I'm turning out to look like my other grandmother and my mom...a little too plump. Ironic, isn't it?

One thing I've noticed about people is that it's really hard to find someone who's just sort of averagely-built. Despite my perceived over-plumpness as of late, I know I'm probably actually pretty average, especially for someone who is almost 40. Stan's pretty average too, but he's more of a mesomorph (I've always been an endomorph because I have small bone structure, but I'm becoming more like endomorphic bone structure with ectomorphic skin coverage...if there is such an animal). People either seem like they're either one end of the spectrum or another, especially here in Wisconsin, the fat capitol of the world interspersed with health-nut overexercising yuppies.
posted by Ann-S-Thesia at 8:36 AM || link it email me


Thursday, June 28, 2001

As the detailed layers are peeled back of Stan's ancestry, it becomes more and more like a Kurt Vonnegut novel, with Nabokov and Burroughs thrown in for spice, complete with twists and turns and absurdities and coincidences and even war stories.

Detached. That is one of the keywords that describes Lou Reed over at allmusic.com. That is how I feel. Detached. It is someone else's story, not my own. I'm just sitting back and watching it all happen and recounting it. It's hard to sing melodiously and passionately when your emotions have been sapped of strength. All I can do is talk the lyrics.


I woke up this morning with tears in my eyes and I was crying. I can't remember the dream. It's strange how when this happens, you can't stop crying, even though you have no idea what triggered it.

We took Natasha to the vet yesterday. Stan had clipped off some of her matted fur before we went as she's not cleaning herself like she should. He accidently clipped skin...in all the time he's been clipping her matts, this is the first time (almost typed furst time) he's clipped skin. The vet put a stitch in it. Poor cat. Even though it seems like she's been eating well since we started her on the special diet, she's actually lost about 9 oz since her last appointment. This is not a good sign, and points to cancer. The vet said the growth on her chin might be an abscess, although she said it doesn't really seem like an abscess because the teeth don't show any problems and the growth is too hard. She gave us some antibiotics for her nonetheless, just in case it is. I'm not holding my breath. We told her that we don't want to put her through a lot of tests at her age, that we want to make her life as comfortable as possible right now.
posted by Ann-S-Thesia at 8:44 AM || link it email me


Wednesday, June 27, 2001

I'm working on a very tedious, awful, grueling database thing for my fonts again. It's painful.

It's very hard as an artist to think in the mindset of a corporate executive, accountant, programmer, demographic statistician, etc. People need to realize where their strengths lay and not try and be all things because then they end up doing neither well. Having to stretch my mind and try and understand business lingo and plan my creations in terms of what will be profitable etc. does nothing for my creativity, in fact it's deleterious to it.

This is why television as of late is in such a state of suck...there are so very few creative individuals creating shows for network tv anymore. It's not that they don't exist. They are out there. The tv execs are just not using them because they are clueless. They base their decisions on the lowest common denominator syndrome, surveys, demographics, instead of striving for excellence, beauty, creativity and vision regardless of what they perceive the public wants.


I am having a lot of anxiety with Stan's newfound family situation. It's good anxiety, not bad, but it's anxiety nonetheless. Always wondering "what if they think we're longhaired potsmoking hippie freaks." Well, they'd only be right on one account...we're longhaired. And that's about it. I suppose the freak part is subjective, and IMHO Shorthaired Macho Man with the ever-enlarging pickled liver in his SUV and Cellphone and bad aftershave masking smelly armpit-sweat-infested polyester dry-cleaned with chemicals dress shirts is far more freaky and unhuman. Yet I digress.

It's really hard to have no relatives and be suddenly swept up into a situation with lots of them.
posted by Ann-S-Thesia at 10:42 AM || link it email me


I'm sorry Ray Davies:

I met her in a park where her owners were
She was a little Pug with all black fur
her name was Lola...L-O-L-A
Lola...A Pug named Lola...

Oh my goodness that was such a cute little pug. I've never seen an all black pug in person before. Her fur texture was quite different than fawn pugs like Hieronymus...much smoother and closer to the body. She was such a sweet petite little thing. Tim, Stan and I fell in love with her. What a sweetie. And driving home from Tim's we saw a Boston. What an odd coincidence...a Boston and a Pug in the same night. I smelled like Lola when I got home but Plato didn't seem to mind; he just licked my hand. And before I went to bed I checked my messages...both Stan's half sisters on his dad's side called! Wow...this is intense. We might even meet the one who lives in a neighboring state if Stan can get several days in a row off. Ugh...dog boarding...

OK, I want a black pug. It would go so well with our taste in clothes and furniture. I guess they're rather hard to find.


What a weird experience this morning. Stan got up to go to work, take Plato out for his early morning pottybreak and take Hieronymus downstairs. I turned on the radio...BBC news on NPR. I dozed back to sleep and woke up to hear "As it Happens" come on the air, but dozed back to sleep. I fell into a dream...something about me either writing a book about, starring in a film about, or actually being a person who named all her sons after rock stars' last names...like Cobain or Morrison. As loony as it sounds, I actually considered it if I ever became a parent, just because I'm not big on traditional names or trendy names. Other possibilities were naming them after colors like Blue or Viridian, perhaps more in keeping with myself as a visual artist as opposed to myself as a music fan. Yet I digress. Back to the dream. Other names came into focus in my dream, specifically Reed and Dylan (again, does the appearance of those two names have anything to do with Stan discovering he is not Jewish, especially since those aren't the birth lastnames of Louis Firbank and Robert Zimmerman, who were born Jewish? Am I overanalyzing Stan's discovery?) In my dream I am debating someone about the validity of these names...whether this is an actual person in my dream or if it is just an aspect of myself, I do not know. But I decide against the name Dylan because of its current trendiness, but decide Reed would be a good name (although I have met a Reed IRL I rather didn't care for). Then the dream progressed...I was colouring my hair with eyeshadow, making it a dark brown copper color with highlights of all sorts of eyeshadow colors...it actually became semi-permanent and I wondered why I didn't think of this way of hair colouring sooner. I also remember as I was doing this I was at my parent's house, in their bedroom, but they were away. I was looking at myself in my mom's mirror over her dresser and happened to see a small fancily wrapped gift in their closet. I assumed it was for me. Then the weirdest sensation happened as I came to...I started hearing Lou Reed's "Perfect Day." As I awoke, indeed, "Perfect Day" was on the radio. "As it Happens" had some sort of segment on what songs dairy cows in England supposedly like, and some farmer somehow determined they liked "Perfect Day." (They gave more milk? I don't know...I slept through the actual story). Did the mention of Lou Reed's name on "As it Happens" trigger my rock star name dream? Or did I dream it before the dairy cow segment? Weird. But it was so good to wake up to that song.

There's just something about hearing good music when you're in that halfway asleep/halfway awake stage that is one of the rare pleasures in this world. It's not quite as powerful when you put a CD on as you know what the songs will be. What's the best is when it comes on unexpectedly, like when you're listening to the radio, fall asleep, and slowly wake up to something unexpected that you love.
posted by Ann-S-Thesia at 6:56 AM || link it email me


Tuesday, June 26, 2001

"As it Happens" had people call in with their favorite rock and roll car song. They got a lot of calls for "Roadrunner" by Jonathan Richman and the Modern Lovers. That sure felt good to hear at 5:30 am this morning. It's the kind of song that gets caught up in your dreams after it's over and keeps playing. I dreamt that I was talking to Stan about the song, and I actually was *thinking* in my dream, trying to think of what Velvet Underground song it reminded me of, and I actually realized in my dream it reminded me, musically, of "Sister Ray." It's amazing that one actually thinks in dreams, that there's actual working logical thought processes and not just random ideas surfacing that make no sense in reality.

The Modern Lovers were one of those groups I didn't know about in their time, and embarrassingly, the only song I do know by them is Roadrunner because of the Sex Pistols' cover version.

"with the radio on..."

I need some music in my life right now really badly. The Eagle, our only car with a CD player, is out of commission...Stan has to fix things on it to make it seaworthy for our trip this fall. Sometimes the only time I have to listen to music is in a car. If I had money to spare, I'd get sound in the van, but I don't.

"You should have two radios in case one breaks." --Lou Reed

Stan had a turquoise blue Chevy Bel Aire he bought from his grandmother when he was in his teens. We christened it The S.S.Scurvy when we were in college and painted it black and scary with splotches of blood red and plaid. It was one of the first painted cars in Colorado before they got trendier in the late 80s. We were into this punk pirate thing. It had no sound, not even a radio. If we wanted sound, we had to take along a portable tape player. One weekend I was out visiting Stan at his parents in the summer of '83, I think (he lived with them in the summer and worked as a housepainter while in college). We were driving around in the country with the tape player on playing the Sex Pistols. We found a toad in the road and stopped and took it for a ride. It was a very memorable moment...driving around in the old car with the Pistols playing on the tape player with a toad sitting on the back seat listening. Eventually, the batteries started dying, the Pistols started slowing down, and we dropped the toad off at a pond.

We always try and rescue toads and turtles in the middle of the road. The other week we rescued a snapping turtle of all things. Stan picked it up by its tail and took it across the highway to the other side where it was heading. It was quite a nasty beast, hissing at Stan. Too bad it didn't realize he probably saved its life.

Yesterday Stan found a large dead silkworm moth on the asphalt by his bank. I'm glad I wasn't with him. Sometimes not everything can be saved.
posted by Ann-S-Thesia at 8:37 AM || link it email me


Sunday, June 24, 2001

Stan attempted to analzye my dream of the previous night. Although he had nothing to say about the Yassir Arafat aspect, he did offer up a philosophy in keeping with the Jerry Divine character. And I paraphrase...

"It doesn't matter what your actual history was...what matters is the legend that builds up around your mythology."

Or something like that. If you've never seen Velvet Goldmine, this won't make a bit of sense. Of course, neither will much of the things I write about for that matter.
posted by Ann-S-Thesia at 8:51 AM || link it email me


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Copyright 1996-2001 Ann Stretton. All Rights Reserved. No part of this web log may be copied or reproduced, however text may be quoted if a link is given in return. Permission is not given under any circumstances to use any of the graphics or art on this site, however If you ask first, I may grant permission at my discretion. Please check the link above to my Ann-S-Thesia site for web graphics if that is what you need.