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

Saturday, November 17, 2001

After about nine years, we finally moved the headboard onto the back of our bed! Now our bed looks like our bed instead of just a large square thing in the middle of the room, and our bedroom looks more like a bedroom. When we bought the thing, we were still sleeping upstairs, and we didn't know it at the time of purchase, but the headboard would not fit up the stairs as the stairway curves at the top of the landing and it's rather narrow. So we had to store it in the kitchen all this time. The cats loved it...it was their favorite perch. Now they're a little confused. Then in July when we were finally able to move into our bedroom that we'd been working on since we bought the house, we realized that Big Sur didn't cut the headboard support thing (the thing the headboard sits on) the right height...they cut it to the height of the bed including the mattress, not to the height of the underdressers. So Stan had to trim the support down to size which he was finally able to get to this past week. Tim helped Stan move the headboard on last night. It's quite nice, except for the various cat claw marks it has endured for being a kitty perch these past nine years. Now all that is left in the bedroom is the curtains. A long time ago I bought the fabric for the curtains, a shiny grey chintz that would be covered by blue and black lace, but realized I am a terrible sewer. So I asked my mom if she wouldn't mind sewing them for me, sort of as a graduate school graduation present since it was around the same time and she didn't know what to get me. Since sewing is no big deal for her (she makes everything herself it seems) I'm sure she was glad to oblige. But the big project now is making the curtain rods. We bought all the materials and will do it ourselves because want something nice amd customized. To get really nice curtain rods one has to spend a lot, unless you want to settle for the cheapy fake brass ones.

Stan told me it's also about time to donate the Monza...I guess the transmission is starting to get old and it is just not worth it to fix it at this point. He said something about donating it to the Kidney foundation...someone at his jobs knows the details about this. Actually it'll be a relief to have only two cars again, but I hope there aren't many instances where we'll wish we had that third car. Lately a third car has really come in useful when one car is in the shop or torn apart by Stan who's repairing it and another stalls out somewhere.
posted by Ann-S-Thesia at 10:31 AM || link it email me


Sequence of events was a little confused in my dreams last night, but I'll try my best to recount: I was in some class, like a civics class, but it was more like it was in college or at a job or something. Someone was saying something really ignorant and misinformed, and I was laughing at what they were saying. Somehow I made a bet with someone that the ignorant person would say something stupid, and they did, so I won the bet. Then for some reason I was really mad at Stan. He was in some building in a room I don't know where this was, and it looked like he was working on art, but I don't know for sure. I start telling him how mad I am at him and I was hoping that would make him come around and apologize to me, but he kept ignoring me. Then he transformed into an Asian woman. Weird. Then I was leaving East Towne Mall in Madison on foot...I was walking home, which is like three miles. I was crossing all these intersections that were not intended for pedestrians (you know how automobile-centric suburban areas are...ick) so I was running across them. I was carrying something large, like matboard or something. I remember running down East Washington until I got to around the highway 51 intersection where that underground crossing is...except it was really strange in my dream. It was like it was a footbridge in a park in the Rocky Mountains or something...it was made out of that metal fence mesh material, but in order to get to the footbridge, I had to pull it down, but in order to do that I had to step over this area where there was no bridge...it was rather tricky. Then this woman who I used to work with at my former employer appeared; she was sort of a busy body tattletale and she started asking me about my civics class and whether I had taken a pre-requisite civics class the semester before. I wanted to tell her that I can't always take all the classes in a neat and orderly fashion because I have to work and sometimes my work schedule interferes with class time, but instead I say that I hadn't taken a civics class since the 8th grade (which is true...I hated civics). She then goes on this spiel that I really should take the prerequisite classes because that would give me an understanding of why some people are ignorant in the things they say...her reasoning seemed backward, like *they* were the ones who should be taking the prerequisite classes, not me.
posted by Ann-S-Thesia at 10:13 AM || link it email me


Tuesday, November 13, 2001

I got stung on my butt cheek yesterday by a yellowjacket (I sat on it!). The stung spot swelled up a lot; I don't know if that's because I have a lot of fat in that area anyway or if I would've gotten stung on a finger it would've swelled up just as bad. Anyway, it's probably the best place to get stung if one is to get stung; it is rather funny other than the initial pain and an occasional twinge and annoying itching. We're now really suspicious that the hive we thought was honeybees inside the siding of the house is yellowjackets, as I got stung in my studio on the side of the house where the hive is. The stung area is warm to the touch, much warmer than the surrounding skin on my body. I also had a lot of whacky dreams last night, so I suspect the poison is causing a little adverse reaction in the form of hallucination and fever.

Whacky dreams last night:

Dream 1: I was with Stan and we were going to be travelling with his (adopted) mother and her twin sister. We were driving past them and they were wearing matching brown polyester leisure suits like old men wore in the 70s. We went into a driveway to wait for them; their car was getting filled up with other people. Some teenage guy with blond hair was sitting in the front passenger seat and I asked Stan who he was and he said he was a cousin. I had to go to the bathroom really bad and couldn't wait any longer so I told Stan I would be right back as I left our car and went into a nearby restroom. I was wearing a long white dress, like something hideous from a wedding, although fortunately there wasn't any crenoline or anything as it draped fairly naturally. The restroom had no actual toilet stalls; just a very strange white tiled ledge with a fountain; people were supposed to sit and pee on the tiled ledge. I sat down and then a woman sat next to me. I couldn't pee. Then a guy sat down next to me and I still couldn't pee. Finally the woman left and I was able to pee and the guy started watching me pee. He put his hand under my stream and said "Ameritech." (I find this extremely funny now, however I just thought it odd in my dream) I wanted this pervert to go away. It seemed like I peed for an incredibly long time. I must have gone back to the car, but I think the dream sort of ended then.

Dream 2: I was upstairs in my house, I think, and heard a strange noise downstairs. As I went downstairs, I noticed that there was water boiling on the stove, but as I got closer, I realized that there was a large old fashioned tub in the kitchen and there was a flame underneath it and there were women bathing in the tub. I turned the flame off because I didn't want the tub to boil over. Then it was like I was at an interview for a college art position and the people doing the interviewing were my ex-grad school profs from the UW. They were interviewing one guy that let it be known that he was Italian, although he was rather light complected (sort of like Stan's [bio] mom's side of the family). Then it was like I was on stage as a comic, and I was saying things that made people laugh hysterically. I was doing an entire skit about working as an art professor, and putting the system down, and everyone in that room, except the profs themselves thought it was funny. I especially remember telling them you better hire the Italian guy because he'll get the mob after them if they don't and also saying sarcastically that maybe he doesn't really want the job because he'll make less at it than I make being self employed selling my graphics (which is not true...even a non-tenured professor makes quite a bit more than what I make...however probably less than what Stan makes as a cook). Then one of the profs, I believe it was Pistol Packin' Pat (see dream on November 8) says that they're finished and that'll be enough interviews for the day...she seemed mad that I was making light of their "serious" interviews. Then she and her husband start discussing whether they should pick up tomatoes at the store on their way home.

Dream 3: I dreamt Tim was driving! Now that's a scary dream (he can't get a license because his eyes are bad...funny that I have one considering he sees a lot of things I miss). He was driving a blue minivan. I asked him if he had a license, and he skirted around the issue. I remember him not seeing the car stopped in front of him so he had to put on the brakes quickly as he approached it. I was thinking that I'd rather be driving with Stan, (Stan was taking another car...weird) but that maybe it's a good thing that I'm with Tim so I can be his backup pair of eyes.
posted by Ann-S-Thesia at 9:59 AM || link it email me


Monday, November 12, 2001

What is it with those massively-sized "Garden Centers" (as big as a Home Depot) that feature a tiny, tiny area of actual houseplants in the offseason, and the rest of the store, the main part of the store, is filled with Xmas crap? Ribbons and bows and bells and tinsel and baubles and hideous conical-shaped traditional Euro-Satans Santas and paper mache reindeer and synthetic evergreens? Aaaaaagh! I cannot believe what the American public buys. All I want are some houseplants, dammit. I still cannot find a Rosary vine or a Watermelon Pepperomia in a small/starter size pot or a Variegated Pepperomia or a Silver Tree Pilea...is that so much to ask? I checked out three stores in the Milwaukee/Racine area yesterday and they were the most hideous. Under normal conditions in the summer they would be completely tolerable with plants and supplies for the outdoor garden, but after Halloween this transformation takes place from great gardening resource to Disney Witch Headquarters. All these large-sweatered women (and it wasn't even sweater weather yesteday, OK? It was a lovely, lovely warmish fall day deserving of normal clothes and a jacket, not an overly stuffed and embellished acrylic sweater...but you know why they were wearing it, not for warmth but for SHOWING OFF) bumping into me without an apology because all they care about is buying buying buying buying accumulating acquiring crap that they will use to decorate or give as gifts that will end up in a landfill the next year.

What a scary culture we live in. I simply cannot relate.
posted by Ann-S-Thesia at 9:38 AM || link it email me


Sunday, November 11, 2001

Oh, but of course Stan's relatives would look like people from Moby Dick...the family name...Starbuck. That's rather amusing, actually, that I actually thought of that connection in my dream.
posted by Ann-S-Thesia at 9:25 AM || link it email me


I dreamt I had a bunch of paintings exhibited in a public building, something like The Lincoln Center in Fort Collins, although I had been unaware they were being exhibited. They were small, about 24x24 inches. I noticed I had sold one, and someone had put up a little listing of whom I sold it to, which happened to either be a Mary Kay associate or the Mary Kay corporation. Someone then asked me, "how does it feel to sell art to Mary Kay cosmetics?" I wanted to say "not very good," but then I thought that it really doesn't matter whom I sell art to as long as they like the art. Then someone pulled back a curtain that had a longer list of people who've bought the paintings, and I noticed I sold about five of them. I was pretty shocked, but grateful because I needed the money. Then the dream went on...I was standing on a platform with a bunch of other people, possibly Stan's relatives. It was moving, like it was on the deck of a ship. People were coming on board...I remember seeing Stan's adopted sister, Marcia, and then later her daughter Hanna and husband Danny. They were wearing all black, as if attending a funeral. They hugged Stan and me. I remember Danny looking like a townsperson out of a Moby Dick movie...he was wearing a black hat...maybe like a captain's hat or something. Everyone looked austere and old fashioned. Danny and Hanna went back into the ship or building or mobile home or whatever it was and were playing with Hanna's toys, and Marcia stayed talking to Stan and I. For some reason, I was expecting "him," i.e., the object of my many dreams lately, to call. (OK, I'll call him "Lenny" to avoid any confusion here) There was an intercom in the vessel, and then I don't know if it was Danny or another person (a friend of Lenny's...ok I'll call him "Norm") started speaking and said that Lenny didn't need to talk to us and then started going on and on about how Lenny was busy and if there wasn't anything new going on in our lives that we needed to tell him, that he had to get back to work. I didn't like hearing Norm's voice, and I didn't like the fact that he was possibly in the back of the vessel, but Stan decided to go back there and he and Norm started talking and asking eachother how they were doing. Then Lenny appeared and I started talking to him, and I couldn't figure out if he actually was glad to see me or if we were taking up too much of his time.
posted by Ann-S-Thesia at 9:18 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.