a new crib for 130 bones

MeMaw came through with her decorating expertise this weekend. in less than three days, we assembled curtains for three of our rooms, added two new rugs (and gave new life to an old model), rearranged the dining room, added a fabulous set of asian-esque pottery barn plates to our serving stable, replaced our raggedy laundry baskets with a nifty pair of cloth bins on wheels, repaired our ghetto mattress with goosefeather heaven and hung 15 fabulous old skool record albums in the living room. with $130 on my end (plus Mole's blood bath & beyond/linens in strings gift certificates) and MeMaw's generous purchase of the rugs and curtain rods, we now live in an adult version of our former sparse abode. Mole feels like our home is now the best he's ever dwelled in, and i have to say that i'm very, very pleased with the results. once my instapaint arrives, we can get the den of love finished and that should put an end to our apartment updating for awhile, at least until we try to organize the arrival of the chaise lounge. why MeMaw couldn't have upped that thing into my possession when MrBojangles drove the wurlitzer and cane rocker up in here in that $350 u-haul expedition is beyond me. The WeatherBird has been chastising her about this as well, so the point has been taken.

made friends with two of the coach house girls on saturday night while we shoved their tiny ride out of an ice bank on our street. we was like a human team of sled huskies, shoving that car's grill in reverse with the power of eight hind legs. surprising that we hadn't ever really seen them to be introduced before, given that they've lived there for a year, but apparantly it is so. in a strange twist, within minutes of successfully releasing their trapped auto, i hopped in to move my own and got into the same predicament. a dashing young neighbor of eastern european flavah appeared from the shadows and did all of the steering for me through my open driver's side window in between occasionally murmured instructions, "move up" or "now, go back. stop." CoachHouseGurl cha-cha'd out of her waiting taxi to check on us and methinks was trying to chat up the Mole out on the street. before flouncing on to her evening's activities, she asked Mole if we knew each other and my cute man said, "yes, we are lovahhs!" and there was this fleeting look of disappointment on her mug that i surely can get down with, cuz i know i've been there on the prowl and it's a drag to find a man you're putting the flirt on has a lady -- and better yet, is really happy with her. feel free to look, but don't get greedy, my sistah. i'll cut you for real! :)

this week is turning out to be a busy one right off the bat. taking a day off work is sure to make the remaining four days rush by quickly. getting back on track at la cheetah with a yoga class tonight and believe i can stay on task from here on out. it's really a matter of just getting my dragging ass out of bed earlier in the morning and getting a jump on my day. have to feel good about netting another $7000 gig for march. that really made my day today. now, if i could just get a few more dates locked in for april, i should be able to go past my numbers for that month too. things are indeed picking up in agentland. if i can score this date for the SleepyComedian, it will mark the first national act booked by my hand, not to mention my first in fivefigureville. let us pray!

i was noticing last night that our current roll of paper towels in the kitchen proclaim the "simple pleasures of life" with some sailboat graphics and i can't help but wonder how one acquires the job of creating paper towel wisdom. is it an in-house position or some ad agency copywriter's plush assignment? the former man of my now minneapolis pal, LadyJ, was an addy copywriter who got to whip up all the kids' puzzles and quizzes on the back of some our finer sugary cereal boxes, so it's possible. i'm telling you, if you paid me to spout off my random thoughts on a roll of bounty, i'd have *plenty* of advice to share. for the environmentally conscious, "second only to dishtowels!"; commanding, "keep it muthafuckin' real!"; wonder, "sweet mystery of life, at last i've found you"; safety, "please use your turn signal"; simple courtesy, "if you sprinkle while you tinkle.....". i'd be sweet and cowtow to the inane demands of my sure to be superb clients, until they pissed me off and i decided to shag. then, look out, because i'd drop in some anti-war and bullshit on discrimation slogans and perhaps a tip on how to file complaints against the corporation with the better business bureau. bet those consumers don't know how about the asbestos they're smearing onto their kiddies faces with a bad batch of towels from a funkified factory that was swept under the rug. i'd find a way, on my way out da door. :) oh, the messages that could be spread about our country's landfills!