Crystal Jackson

Archive for the ‘animals’ Category

shouldn’t have tried to be fancy

In animals, burger, food and drink on January 27, 2012 at 1:16 pm

Being an old pro at visiting burger joints, shacks and shanties, I should have known better. It was an amateur mistake, and it led to my not having any lunch yesterday.

Here’s the deal. I needed to hit an old school and previously unvisited (by me) burger stand so I could gather information to write a profile about it for a client. I’m the perfect person for this job, no? A few coworkers came along for the journey. It was a pretty, breezy day, just right for sitting outside and chomping on a burger.

It happened so fast. The menu (multiple pages) was plastered on the window of the stand. Too many choices. Tacos, burgers, fried shrimp, tortas. There were people in line behind me, so I didn’t have the luxury of perusing my options. I had to go for it. This is where I went off script. See, they had a sign proclaiming the arrival of chicken strips, which they seemed to be very excited about. The excitement was contagious because out of my mouth came, “Chicken strips, please” instead of “cheeseburger, all the way.” And that’s when the train went off the tracks.

Don’t know if the chicken strips they’re so excited about are good or not because that is not, in fact, what was in my bag when they handed me my order. I ended up with fried chicken. On the bone. Though I’m an avowed meat eater, I draw the line at eating things on the bone. The act of ripping meat with my teeth grosses me out. A silly thing, but a thing just the same.

I tried tearing bite-size pieces of the chicken off with my fingers, but the skin was so greasy and hard it was an impossible task. The pigeons that quickly surrounded our table seemed pretty interested, but I don’t feed bird to birds. I looked at the fat pigeons that were so barrel-chested I doubt they can fly anymore. I looked at my chicken, which was of a similar size. I made an uncomfortable connection between the two. I gave up.

The lesson here? When visiting a burger joint, don’t try to be fancy or you might end up with an order of fried pigeon-chicken.

crack horse

In animals, travel on July 19, 2011 at 12:51 pm

a horse is a horse, of course, of course, that is, of course, unless the horse is on some fucking crack

We traveled up the country weekend before last to chill with Tohner’s family and bring my niece Molly a bunch of presents for her 1st birthday. Her special day fell on the Wednesday before our visit. Since she has not yet grasped the concept of time, nor has she learned to read a calendar, we were able to have a celebration with her a few days after the fact with no repercussions. And really, what kind of person gets mad when they get presents a few days late? Let me go on record stating that I’m happy to receive a present at any time.

Somewhere past Katy, we saw a truck and trailer combo. At first I thought there was some loose fabric on the front end of the trailer because I kept seeing something flapping around in the breeze that would disappear for a bit before popping back out again. As my car got closer to the trailer, I realized it wasn’t fabric. It was a horse’s head. Read the rest of this entry »

well there goes that fantasy

In animals, awkward on June 27, 2011 at 1:45 pm

hoping for this

ended up with this

A couple of years ago, I was maybe going to write a play about a woman who gave birth to a monkey. I referred to this work-in-progress (which existed only in my brain and not on paper) as the “monkey baby play.” So when James saw a listing for a TV show a couple of years ago called My Monkey Baby, he recorded it for me. For research purposes. Read the rest of this entry »

the TV makes a joke

In animals, luddite vs. iDevice, spooky on April 29, 2011 at 8:07 am

they're here

The TV in my office at home likes to turn itself on sometimes (who doesn’t). It usually happens in the middle of the night when the house is dark and quiet. A blue-white glow will tiptoe into our bedroom, and it will sound as if someone is having a conversation in the other room. Muffled words waft over my snoring face, waking me up. Freaking me out. I worry someone is in the house. Then I remember. The glow. It’s the TV. I stumble down the hall into my office, turn the thing off and stumble back to bed. If I’m lucky, I go right back to sleep. Read the rest of this entry »

Friday list

In animals, cabin in the woods, dogs, family, food and drink, the internets on March 11, 2011 at 12:47 pm

- I need to send around this link to the entire office. We have a number of offenders who “reply all” to practically every email they get. The only problem with sharing the link is that I know a number of people will reply all to say they totally agree, and that will make my head explode.

- My recommendations on Amazon are becoming a bit…unreliable as I purchase more and more stuff for my niece and nephew. The first book on the list for me right now? My Big Girl Potty. I may not know a lot, but I do know how to go potty. Because I’m a big girl.

- I saw a Chick-fil-A billboard yesterday that featured a couple of cows writing about eating more “chikin.” You know, because if you’re eating chicken, you’re not eating cow. All of the company’s cow-related marketing features kitschy bad spelling, which makes no sense. If a cow has somehow learned how to communicate in English and hold a pen or paint brush in its hoof to write out its thoughts, it is obviously off-the-charts brilliant in the bovine world and would probably be a pretty good speller.

- This video of little kids playing guitars doesn’t look real, like maybe they’re robots or their baby heads have been photoshopped onto adult musician’s bodies. I can’t believe they have the finger strength to pull this off, not to mention the artistic ability.

- One of my favorite bloggers has his moment in the New York Times. I’ve mentioned The Field Lab before (and literally have the tee shirt – for a while he was selling gray tees with THE FIELD LAB stenciled on the front with red spray paint) (because I’m a hipster), and I find Wells’ actions out in the West Texas desert inspirational as I daydream about my future cabin in the woods.

- A man performs CPR on a dog, saving her life, and it was captured on video. Because isn’t everything? My grandfather Ted once saved his Welsh Corgi Toby’s life by giving him mouth-to-snout resuscitation. That dog hated everyone but my grandmother and spent the majority of his life under the table in the kitchen. My grandfather also saved my grandmother’s life, giving her the Heimlich Maneuver over dinner. Ted had a profound impact on everyone, dog-level on up, and was obviously paying attention during first aid classes when he was in the military.

you say potato, I say RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! THERE’S A SNAKE!!!

In animals, cabin in the woods, Houston, the outdoors on February 27, 2011 at 6:42 pm

sssssssnnake (in its natural habitat, a beer cooler)

Stella the Ratdog and I were just settling down for our usual Sunday afternoon snooze when James came into the room to tell me about the SNAKE he’d caught in the backyard. Our backyard is usually a jamboree of squirrels and birds, especially as the days get warmer. Saturday morning, there were easily 100 robins pecking away at the ground. But the arrival of a snake was not expected, nor was it welcome. At least on my end.

James has an affinity for the creepy and the crawly. There’s an aquarium near our dinner table with three albino frogs swimming around in it. Yes, I’m a patient woman. When he suggested that maybe he should keep the snake he’d caught (and placed inside a cooler that we usually put beer in), I responded with a most definite “HELL NO.” I knew he wouldn’t kill it. It was probably an eastern hognose, and they aren’t poisonous, so no reason to give it the death penalty. But I did request that he give it the far-away-from-our-house penalty. I go outside barefoot, man. And am easily startled. And have a little dog.

It’s bad enough that the flying cockroaches will soon make their reappearance. I don’t want to add snakes to the fear and loathing mix. Though, really, I need to deal with my fear of flying insects and slithering reptiles. When I have my cabin in the woods, there will be plenty of both. Can’t be a mincing wad of fear and maintain my tough exterior.

Unrelated: instead of watching the Oscars, I’m watching Morgan Freeman’s Through the Wormhole. This episode is about time travel, and Freeman just uttered the words “stygian depths.” Won’t hear shit like that on the red carpet.

Related to the unrelated: thinking about time travel reminds me of this guy Cliff I used to know. He was my trainer for the brief, glorious nine months or so that I worked out at a boxing gym (a gym where professional boxers worked out – an unairconditioned, two story metal building downtown that no longer exists – NOT an air conditioned grrrll-power puff place filled with motivational posters and tampon machines). We became friends outside of the gym, and he often made…bad decisions that I felt obligated to point out to him. We’d have an awkward conversation about whatever it was (this was back in my preachy 20s), and he’d say, “I can’t wait until a week from now when this has passed.”

I think of that statement any time I’m in the midst of something painful, unfun, awkward, scary or boring. I think about a week or a month or a year from then, the moment when whatever the situation is has resolved itself in some way. And, amazingly, it brings me a little peace. Because this too – whatever it is – shall pass. Eventually. That’s a sort of time travel, I think. Emotional time travel.

balls

In animals, the outdoors on September 18, 2010 at 4:01 pm
no squirrel, sadly, but check out the cool orb

James and I were sitting on the couch today, looking out the picture window into the backyard and watching nature in action. Our yard is chock full of squirrels (and birds and Chamus the Famous), so there’s always something happening. Busy busy busy. Today, one particular squirrel was trying to find a place to stash his acorn when I noticed some other nuts he was carrying. He had the biggest balls I’ve ever seen on a squirrel. To be fair, I can’t actually remember ever noticing squirrel balls before, so I don’t really have much to compare them to. But these things were swinging back and forth, to and fro as he dug in the yard and scampered up a tree and drank water from a potted plant. He was at least twenty feet away, and they were still easy to spot. I’d say he was a good 8 to 10 percent balls and the rest was squirrel. I only wish I could have pulled myself away from the window long enough to grab my camera.

My life = “Look, James! That squirrel with the big balls is back. Grab the camera.”

And what a life it is.

clearing the air

In animals, food and drink, housing, sartorial issues, stupidization on August 2, 2010 at 1:28 pm
  • I’m pretty sure that whatever died in our wall(s) and is decomposing has finally reached the point of not-so-stinky. It’s hard to be certain since James bought a number of plug-in air fresheners that have filled the air with the scents of “fresh linen” and “apple-cinnamon.” Going from one room to the next is like entering different smell zones. I look forward to getting back to our house just smelling like air.
  • We attended a wedding over the weekend that featured an entirely vegetarian spread. The people at our table who had come in from Tyler didn’t quite know what to make of it. I thought it was all delicious except for the tamale, which tasted like glue. I wore a dress for the first time in almost a decade and had to remember how to sit correctly. I’m like the awkward girl from the movie before the makeover.
  • Still waiting on the latest round of fight stupidization stickers to arrive. I’m happy to report that some folks who received theirs last week have already sent back photos of the stickers in place on their vehicles. Hoping more people will do the same, especially those who live in places beyond Houston (and beyond Texas).
  • For lunch today, I ate flavored tuna. It was “sun-dried tomato and olive oil” flavor, and though it tasted okay, I feel kind of gross for having eaten it. Tuna is best when it’s just tuna flavored.
  • I’m thinking about creating a website that specifically pokes fun at the stupid, ign’ant, racist, hateful, completely lacking-in-anything-related-to-reality comments that are left on every news story posted on the Houston Chronicle’s website. Is that giving the morons too much attention? Maybe the fight stupidization blog can feature a dumbass comment of the week or something. It’s either that, or I’ll have to throw my computer out the window. Don’t tell me to just stop scrolling down there. I’ve tried that. It doesn’t work. It’s compulsory.

something’s rotten…

In animals, housing on July 29, 2010 at 3:46 pm

…and it’s not my attitude (for once). I noticed a couple of days ago when I got home from work that something in the house smelled…not so fresh. I was distracted with various things, so I didn’t think to mention it to my housemate. Also, we have two dogs, so there are often scents in the air that are less than pleasant. Yesterday when I got home from work I realized that the odor I’d originally thought of as “trash” was really closer to “death” or “rotting flesh.” When I mentioned it to him, James didn’t notice it and couldn’t catch it even after a deep inhale. I thought it was just me. My dad would say that perhaps it was my upper lip.

I went to bed before James did knowing that I was the only person in the house having this wonderful olfactory experience. In the middle of the night, I was flipping around on the bed unable to sleep. Fairly status quo lately. James, who usually sleeps through my nightly routine, suddenly started talking. I don’t know why it scared me, but it did. I think I’m a little tightly wound. Anyway, he said that he smelled the odor before going to bed. Ahhh, vindication. It’s not my upper lip after all.

A survey of the attic did not turn up any carcasses, so it would appear that we have something rotting in the wall. Lucky us. According to internet sources, the odor peaks on day 4. We are on day 3. I may have to smear the inside of my nose with Vicks Vapo-Rub in order to get through the night, although the burning of my mucous membranes may be just as distracting.

I don’t know what’s up with this house, but there’s always something just a little off about it. One night a couple of weeks ago after a big rainstorm, James noticed a bubble in the wall had suddenly appeared. A wall zit. He poked a hole in the bubble and a bunch of rainwater came out. The fuck?

I blame the weirdness on the ghost of Chamus the Famous.

good day

In animals, theatre, work on June 23, 2010 at 7:11 pm

I work from home once every couple of weeks. It’s nice to not have to fight traffic and instead leisurely walk into my home office not wearing any makeup or a bra. Sometimes not even pants. Grant writing is all about typing on a computer, so technically I could do it most anywhere that has electricty and an internet connection. Pants or no pants.

Today was a good day to stay home for a couple of reasons. One, look at what came in the mail:

There my little script is, hanging out with Albee and Ruhl and Durang. They don’t talk to my script, but that’s okay. My script has good self-esteem. But it’s not an asshole or anything.

Then, running an errand at lunch, I was able to snap a shot of one of the birds that hang out in our yard each dusk and dawn. This one was standing in the street as I pulled out of the driveway and only grudginly got out of the way of my car.

James and I just refer to the birds as “cuh-CAWZ” because that’s the sound they make while hanging out in our trees. Very noisy. I’m not up on my ornithology. Anyone know what kind of bird this is?

Finally, a big summertime thunderstorm is about to roll through. When I’m in my office at work, I’m far away from windows that look outside (my office window looks out…into the rest of the office). So I’m happy to be able to hear the thunder and smell the rain.

squirrels be trippin

In animals, the outdoors on June 5, 2010 at 2:07 am

After a good rain a couple of nights ago, the next morning I discovered a new crop of vegetation in my garden – mushrooms. I was in a rush and didn’t have time to go out and pick them (to throw away, not to eat), so imagine my surprise when I got home that evening and all of the mushrooms were gone. I checked with James to make sure he didn’t pick them for some reason (he pretty much leaves the gardening to me, though he does water when I’ve gotten distracted and things are getting wilty). He didn’t touch the ‘shrooms, so that left one other possibility – the squirrels.

As I’ve mentioned before, it’s a regular squirrel and bird jamboree in our backyard every single day. And the squirrels are already pretty crazy acting, leaping from tree branch to tree branch in gravity-defying acts of acrobatics. So when they start tripping on mushrooms, I expect the show to get even more interesting. I don’t think they’ve eaten them yet – pretty sure you have to soak them in honey or something first.

(keep feeling) procrastination

In animals, the outdoors, things that make me happy on April 14, 2010 at 1:12 am

Two posts in one day? I must be staring a deadline in its cold, dark eyes. Like a doll’s eyes. (One of my favorite movie scenes ever = Robert Shaw’s monologue in Jaws. Watch it and then that statement will make sense. I have a serious crush on his character Quint. Side note about Robert Shaw – he suffered from really shitty sea sickness while they made that movie. So his performance is that much better.)

Some pictures.
How does your garden grow? Mine grows like a mofo. You’ll note the previously mentioned onions (on the left/in the middle). Still doing well. What’s kicking ass right now = potato plants (in the back). The garlic (on the right) is struggling. And the strawberry plant (front), well, I keep pinching off the buds because I read that’s what you do the first season. Don’t let the thing grow any berries. Then next year, that’s when we’ll have sweet berries to eat. In theory. Hope it works. I’m really digging having my little garden. Though I have a lot to learn and a lot of rows to hoe, so to speak, I like the potential that exists when you figure out how to grow food. It’s empowering. Even though I don’t have enough to make one side salad yet.

When I got home from work, there was a hammock stand in the backyard. We’ve had Mason’s hammock for a while but no place to put it. James set it up today, and I’ve already taken it for a spin. So has Stella. She got mad when I placed her inside.

But then she got over it, as she always does. Because she’s badass little doggie with a good attitude.

Finally, I mentioned that someone left me a surprise at my birthday party. After the last guest left, I went into my bathroom to take out my contacts and put on my glasses. Relief. When I opened my bathroom cabinet, I found this little fella:

Cute, huh? He now lives on my bookcase. I’m pretty sure I know who brought me this present (AP). It was a great ending to my party. I like funny surprises like that.

Enough. Back to work and another bottle of wine.

Mr. TuTu

In animals, the outdoors on April 6, 2010 at 3:26 pm

Dali was doing her excited bark while on her early morning pee this morning in the back yard. It’s different in tone and intensity from her “barking at the neighbor who’s trying to water her flowers” bark or her “barking at the neighbor who is hosing blood off his tuba” bark. I was trying to wait until the coffee was ready before putting on shoes to go see what she was yelling about, but I started to worry it might be something cute, fuzzy and little that she would end up trying to eat. So I hustled on out there and found this guy:


He’s not fuzzy, but he was sort of cute. And pretty big, as far as turtles that show up in your backyard in Houston go. He reminded me of a turtle – Tohner named him “Mr. TuTu” – that used to show up every summer when we were kids. We knew it was the same turtle year after year because he had an X or t marking on his back. Mr. TuTu would hang out for a while and then move on to wherever he was the rest of the year. Perhaps he was orbiting something and like a comet showed up in our front yard every summer.

[I'm happy to report that the black water in the neighbor's pool has been drained - according to the neighbor there was an issue with the pool that they didn't want to bother with during the winter. I think the "issue" may have been related to the body parts he stores in there, maybe the hair clogged a drain or something, but I didn't suggest that as a possibility.]

afternoon delight

In animals, the outdoors on March 15, 2010 at 5:59 pm

The weather this weekend was so awesomely amazing, I did yard work for two days in a row. I love Houston in the springtime. I was planting flowers and weeding and laying mulch and creating a rock garden like a mofo. Ended up with a plumber’s butt tan – my jeans were low rise and I guess my shirt was high rise, so the exposed pasty white flesh is now a rosy pink. Hot.

Took a break at one point yesterday afternoon and walked around the back 40 looking for rocks to add to the rock garden. Visited the old tuba – the neighbor must not have knocked anyone on the head lately because it was looking pretty dusty. James took a picture of it for your viewing pleasure:

I’m really glad that thing is at the far end of the yard where I rarely go. I then visited the funky old shed in the far back end of our yard (at least we only have one, unlike the tuba player who has about six). This shed is the place where the crazy serial killer would stay if we had one of those. I started to walk inside to see if there were any interesting items to add to the rocks when I saw a tiny owl sitting on top of some shelves. At first I didn’t think it was real because it didn’t move when Stella and I entered. Then I realized that I’d never seen it there before, so if it wasn’t real that meant that the serial killer was starting to move his stuff in, beginning with his stuffed owl. James snapped a blurry picture of it (didn’t want to blind it with the flash):

Cute, huh? It’s only about six or seven inches tall. Must be a baby. Funny that we left two baby owls in our backyard in the Heights and now have a new baby owl at the new place. Or one of the baby owls from the Heights followed us, which I find vaguely creepy.

While I’m on the subject of the backyard, I don’t think I’ve told you about the grave that’s back there. We’re assuming (hoping) ’twas a dog at some point. The concrete marker – a flat slab that’s about 20″x20″ – says,

Chamus the Famous
We loved you
August 1983

My brother Tohner thinks it would be funny to dig up the area around the grave and then put some bloody paw prints on our back door while James and I are at work.

I don’t think that would be funny at all.

mild kingdom

In animals, the outdoors on June 18, 2009 at 5:32 pm


James took this picture of the baby owls that are living in our backyard. Each morning just as the sun is coming up (yes, we get up that early) (sigh), we see the little owls sitting in a tree or on the power line, just chilling. Probably trying to digest whatever small mammals they ate during the night. We first saw what we think is mamma owl right after Ike blew into town. Owls are cool.

And they aren’t the only wildlife living with us. We also have a possum and at least two cats that hang around pretty regularly. There must be something tasty (rats?) under the house because there’s always a lot of activity. Especially at night. Sometimes when I’m soaking in the tub, I can hear something under the floor scratching around. Yeah, it’s as relaxing as it sounds.

the zoo

In animals, relationships on January 9, 2009 at 7:33 pm

Some of my fondest memories as a kid are our trips to the zoo, which culminated in an Antone’s poorboy by the duck pond. Antone’s ain’t what it used to be since the family sold the business, and the zoo has changed a lot too. In the case of the latter, the change has been mostly for the better.

I bitched about the demise of the old train last year, but I have to admit that I was pleasantly surprised by how nice the new train is.

(James and Crystal on the zoo train. Tried to take the shot on the down-low so as to not blow our cool cover and betray how much fun we were having. If you look closely, though, you’ll see that I have clip-on sunglasses on top of my regular glasses. There was never any chance of us – or at least me – being mistaken for cool…)

The seats are twice as wide (to accommodate larger asses), and the track seems quite a bit longer, too. The only thing that was missing for me was the tunnel at the start of the journey. I was always half scared of that thing, even though it had Looney Tunes-like characters in day-glo paint on the inside, nothing scary. An addition to the train experience that I don’t remember from my childhood is the sprinkling of homeless people/crackheads throughout the park. I kept waiting for them to run alongside the train with their hands out, begging for alms. Please sir, can I have some more. Luckily, they remained firmly in place on their picnic table living rooms.

Once inside the zoo, the smell still greets you. They still have the same shitty snack bar food, but it’s been updated with Starbucks coffee and wrap sandwiches with arugula on them. Much of the zoo is pretty much as you might remember it from a decade or two ago, but a lot has been updated.

For instance, I don’t remember seeing meerkats when I was a kid. They are hilarious to watch, often striking what seems to be a pensive pose, looking off into the distance with faraway eyes. Perhaps they are the poets of the animal world. They remind me a bit of Stella but without the big ears.

I’ve always been a big fan of monkeys. There is now an extensive monkey habitat that offers great views of monkeys examining their genitals and picking bugs off each other. Hey, I’m not complaining. That’s what monkeys do. I miss going into the gorilla house. If it and the super cool metal sculpture that used to be at the door are still in the zoo, I couldn’t find them. Talk about a smell that greeted you upon arrival… You knew you were doing something when you entered the stinky, humid gorilla house.

The gorillas orangutans we did find live outside. We were treated to this little family drama.

Pappa orangutan, suffering from ennui.

Baby orangutan, rolling around in a blanket and delighting onlookers who’d been somewhat disturbed by pappa orangutan.

Baby orangutan, interested in the people. Pappa orangutan, flipping everyone off (mentally).

Baby orangutan, going in for a hug.

Pappa orangutan pushing baby orangutan away and knocking him on his ass. Crowd laughed uncomfortably and hugged their kids as they walked away.

Ahhh, yes. Nothing like a trip to the zoo to teach you a little something about your own life. They’re still doing a lot of construction over there, so parking is a bitch. But wasn’t it always? I suggest you go before it gets too hot. Eat some cotton candy and remember the good old days. And make sure you ride the train. Best $2.50 I’ve spent in a long time.

the best/worst thing in the world

In animals, the internets on November 13, 2008 at 5:52 pm

My friend Lisa shared a link to a puppy-cam that features six fat little puppies in their doggy crate. It is the best/worst thing in the world. The best because it is oddly meditative and calming, watching these little pups slowly breathing, their tiny feet twitching with dream movement. The worst because it makes me feel like the kind of person who would do her shopping in the Lilian Vernon catalog while wearing a cat sweatshirt and occasionally crying.

dog farm

In animals on November 6, 2008 at 10:23 pm

I had a dream two nights ago that featured Dali and Stella, our two dogs. Plus a third dog. She was cute – slightly larger than Stella. Short, white hair with two brown spots around her eyes. I was in my old garage apartment in the dream, and both Dali and Stella were upstairs with me. I could see the little white dog was in the backyard through the kitchen window. I called down the stairs for her to come up, and then the dream shifted into whatever the next random thing was. Me flying a bus-sized caterpillar or something.

You know that I have dreams of living on a dog farm some day, a place where any and all dogs can find a home and run through the grass and frolic and eat cat turds and whatever else makes them happy. So it’s not entirely unusual for me to dream about dogs.

Today I received one of those heart-jerking emails from a coworker about a little dog her friend found on the side of a highway. Wanna guess what the dog looks like?

The rule in our house is the dogs can’t outnumber the people. But that sho is a cute doggie. Maybe we can find a hobo to stay in the second bedroom…

pucker up, monkey

In animals, stupidization on July 27, 2008 at 8:12 pm

There are a lot of reasons why I decided to (almost) quit drinking.* Here are a couple I found in my inbox today:


The fuck? Not only do I not remember when I took these pictures, I also don’t remember why. Why did I decide I needed a record of this activity? And why am I kissing the purple monkey from my stuffed animal play? Since he was technically an employee of mine, does this count as sexual harassment? Look at the monkey’s expression in the first picture – he knows what’s coming, but he’s not very happy about it. Was I really that unaware of his feelings? Or did I just not care?

[I'm glad digital cameras weren't around during my twenties. Purple stuffed monkeys were the least of my troubles. So maybe I've grown up just a little bit.]

* I say “almost” because I haven’t stopped completely. I still have a glass of wine with dinner once or twice a week. And the occasional scotch. I’m just not hitting it hard and heavy every night like I used to. And, man I feel better. My liver, she thanks me every day.

for the birds

In animals, dreams, food and drink, writing on June 9, 2008 at 5:16 pm

Interesting weekend. I attended an all-day artist workshop at DiverseWorks on Saturday. This was something you had to apply to in order to participate, so I had high hopes for the experience. Had it been something anyone could do that cost $250 or something, I would have been dubious. Actually, I wouldn’t have gone. But this is something that DW gets a grant for and invites Houston artists to participate in. I was blown away by the experience. My head is swimming with ideas and possibilities for the future. The presenters were from a group called Creative Capital, based in NYC. They teach artists how to manage their careers and actually make a living off their art. I was the lone playwright in the group. Most everyone else there was a visual artist. And almost every single one of them (there were 50 of us) worked in more than one medium.

Though I never expect to live off my playwriting, I do have hopes of creating a work situation that encourages more creative writing. And I’m hoping that by the time I do the extensive “homework” from this weekend that I’ll have a better game plan. Something that I thought was nice timing: on a break at the workshop, I checked my email. Received notice that Militia Slumber Party has been chosen for a fest in NYC. It made me feel like I was on the right track Saturday, especially since this is the first hit for that play (other than the original commission) since I wrote it in February. I was worried people were viewing it as too “regional.” That’s what a producer in LA told me. That he thought it was funny but his audience wouldn’t be into it. I don’t understand what my problem is with getting a west coast production. This will be the third time for my work to be done in NYC but I can’t catch a break on the other coast. Weird.

Saturday night I had a dream. I have dreams every night (as do we all – I just happen to remember many of mine) that are odd, so this one didn’t stick out. At first. I dreamt of a dead bird in our yard. It ended up being thrown in the washer with my clothes, and I demanded that my cousin (who lives in another state and who I’m sure has never shown up in one of my dreams) remove the bird. I guess he was the one who’d put it in there. He pulled it out as if it were a shirt or a towel, but it was really a dead bird. And that’s not the worst of the dream, but it’s the part that is relevant to the next day. So I go to the grocery store early Sunday morning. When I get back, there’s a little (alive) bird in the front yard. It doesn’t fly away as I walk right by it. I guess it fell out of the tree. James checks it out and while looking at that bird, finds its brother or sister. DEAD. Don’t you think it’s random to have a dream about a dead bird and then the next day there’s a dead bird in your front yard? I find it odd. But not disturbing. I’m not sure why.

What I do find disturbing is what happened last night. After dinner, I thought I saw James pinch a little piece of leftover chicken. Then I heard him go outside. He’s not giving that little bird…CHICKEN, is he? Yes, that is exactly what he was doing. Making that poor little bird commit cannibalism. I don’t know if the bird ate it or not. Mama bird has been keeping an eye on things, so she may have recognized it for what it was. The fact that it was chipotle lime chicken only adds to the wrongness of the situation. When I left for work this morning, I saw that he had put out a little bowl of water for the baby, which is still sitting on our garden hose (not that we have a garden) and mama bird is still in the crape myrtle keeping an eye on things. I hope it works out for them and one of the asshole neighborhood cats doesn’t come by for a visit. I hate cats.

800 rat dogs (that looks like a phone number)

In animals on March 14, 2008 at 8:24 pm

When I think about the future, there are two things that are constant: my desire for a writing cabin in the woods and my hope to have a dog farm. So you can imagine how my ears perked up when I heard about the elderly couple in Arizona who had 800 (holy shit!) rat dogs in their triple-wide (holy shit!) home. I can’t even imagine how 800 dogs, even of the rat-sized variety, could fit into any small area unless they were balanced on each others’ backs like the Bremen Town Musicians (how’s that for a totally random reference?).

I visited the website of the poor humane society that is now taxed with saving as many of these dogs as possible and gave them $25. I’d go get one of the dogs if I could (rat dog is my favorite flavor of dog, you know), but we’re dog full with Stella and Dali. Plus, Stella would be PISSED if I brought home another rat dog. She and Dali get along because there is about 60 pounds difference between the two of them. They fulfill different dogness. Two rat dogs in the same house is asking for trouble.

Also, people tend to flock to “celebrity” animals while other just as important animals go ignored at the same shelter. Everyone wants a Katrina dog or a three legged, blind dog because it makes a great story when people come over for dinner. You know, as a physical manifestation of someone’s overabundant humanity. So a lot of these rat dogs (the ones that survive – not surprisingly many are ill and some have already died) will probably be adopted out, much to the detriment of the other dogs at that shelter. So I gave them a little bit of money just to support the cause.

As for my dog farm, I’m picturing a much different operation (obviously). I’m thinking lots of acreage with vet school students living on the property to tend to the animals. That’s a far cry from a triple-wide.

out with the old, in with the new

In animals, holidays on December 31, 2007 at 3:05 am

Took down the Christmas tree and lights today. The tree was a fire hazard – it was well past the point of being able to drink water. It was a damn good tree, though. I bought it at Home Depot the first weekend of December, and it didn’t start looking poopy until a few days ago. It’s nice having half the living room back, but I miss the soft glow of the lights at night.

I made it through round one of a really cool potential commission. I have three weeks to write a new 10-minute play (or 10-minute scene, but that’s less gratifying). If I make it through the next round, the piece will be produced (in Houston, no less) and there will be a paycheck involved (plus the great exposure of the event itself). If I make it in, you’ll know. I hope there’s something left in my brain after having just pushed out the 50 minutes of new material for In a Jar.

Stella has a grape-sized lump on her abdomen. After a week-and-a-half of trying to will it away with my mind, I finally took her to the vet on Thursday. The vet was pretty sure it was a pocket of fatty cells (gross, but not life-threatening), and she did a needle biopsy to confirm. It wasn’t what she thought – it was a mass of white blood cells, suggesting that Stella’s insides are fighting some sort of infection. So she’s on antibiotics, which means that twice a day she takes a pill that’s hidden inside a piece of chicken, cheese or lunch meat. If she didn’t have a fatty mass going into this, she’s gonna have one now.

I have one more piece of news, but it has to wait for a couple of days. It’s cool, though. I’m excited about it. More to come.

Stella

In animals on June 12, 2007 at 4:36 am

While I’m in an uploading mood, here’s a shot of Stella sniffing a flower in the back yard.

the two videos posted below

In animals, things that make me happy on January 17, 2007 at 5:26 pm

Those of you who know me know that I think a monkey riding a dog is the funniest thing in the world. Specifically, Whiplash the Cowboy Monkey riding a border collie. The border collie is generally not mentioned by name because, uh, monkeys live longer than dogs.

Below, you will see Whiplash in a commercial for a taco place and a short clip of him in action at a rodeo. I was introduced to Whiplash (figuratively – I’ve never actually met Whiplash but I would really, really fucking love to) in the early/mid 90s when I worked in a private club at the Houston Livestock Show & Rodeo. Yeah. It was worth it just for the monkey antics.

Monkey Riding on The Back of a Dog

In animals, things that make me happy on January 17, 2007 at 5:21 pm

Whiplash the Cowboy Monkey – on the news.

taco john starring whiplash the cowboy monkey

In animals, things that make me happy on January 17, 2007 at 5:21 pm

Whiplash the Cowboy Monkey – in a commercial.

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