Purchasing Lipstick for Pitbulls

My last paycheck was one out of which only a couple of small bills were paid and, now that I’m full time, I did what any red-blooded American consumer would do with extra pocket money: I blew it. I bought a pair of silver, four-inch heels from BCBG that were on sale on Amazon.com.
I got two yellow rotary-dial telephones exactly like a couple I had a few years ago when we still had a landline. Since I and most everyone I know only have a cell phone at this point in life, I figured finding some would be as easy as it was ten years ago when I used to decorate my house with them; a powder blue one in the living room, an avacado one in the kitchen, a white one for my bedroom . . . But I went to about six different thrift stores in three days and didn’t come across a single one. I was somewhat shocked to find out how much people are selling them for, especially considering how useless most people thought they were for the past thirty or so years. On eBay, I saw some selling for $40, $80, and even over a hundred dollars.
After a weeklong, intense search for an elusive “orange bag,” I purchased a handmade one with sparrows from Etsy that I think I love more than anything Nine West, Kenneth Cole, or Target could come up with.
I bought a graphic novel for Charlie to thank him for just being Charlie, and some fun tights for myself.

But I also made a deal with myself: for every dollar I spent I had to donate to charitable or political organizations. I gave to MoveOn.org’s effort to register young voters, Obama’s campain (and I bought a hat for Charlie, a yard sign, and a pin from them, as well), Bitch Magazine, and the Humane Society. In fact, thanks to the wonders of credit cards, I think I gave more than I actually spent, especially when I found out Bitch was in a financial crisis and needed money to put out its next issue.

Last night we went to a preview of Chuck Palahniuk’s latest novel-turned-film, “Choke,” at the Keystone Arts theater. It was pretty funny, once you suspend your disbelief, and since it had been so long since I’d read the book that I forgot most of what happened. I know it strayed from the original story quite a bit, but I was at least entertained for free. Unfortunately, Palahniuk’s latest book, Snuff, is about a woman who’s apparently going to get intentionally screwed to death by 600 men on the set of a porno (in an effort to leave her porn-love-child enough money to live comfortably). Of course, the story isn’t told from her perspective, but from that of her assistant, and three of the men who intend to bang her. This is one of two novels being released this year with the same premise. Something tells me Chuck really hates women.

I was all set to sit at home this morning and have coffee, but we had none (oh, the irony), so I went to the store where Sarah gave me her copy of Rolling Stone to read an article on Sarah Palin. While I can’t seem to find it online (after only six seconds of searching), I did find a copy transcribed by a pothead here. It was really funny, witty, biting commentary that makes me hopeful. In essence, the author, Matt Taibbi, describes what a sad caricature Sarah Palin is and how easily Americans seem to lap up her ridiculous sound bites and lies.

I haven’t picked up an embroidery hoop in several days. My suspected (as in, undiagnosed by a doctor, but obviously that’s what it is) carpal tunnel syndrome has gotten bad enough that I can’t feel my right arm whenever I wake up in the mornings, and being on the espresso bar at work is sometimes excruciating. Taking notes in class makes my fingers numb, and I have to take breaks from typing every few minutes to relieve pressure. I know I’m probably going to end up having to wear one of those huge, hideous supports, but for now I have one someone at the pharmacy recommended.

I’m scheduled to put up my artwork at the store in December and I’m not happy with everything I have so far. I guess the insecure side of me is worried what people will think. I haven’t done exactly what I intend, because I know that will be “too much” for the coffeeshop. I don’t want to misrepresent myself by displaying things that are merely “cute” so as not to offend anyone, but I realize that isn’t the vehicle I should be using to really explore what I want to do and people’s reactions to it.

Essentially, I’d like to study how the crafts movement is and has been considered “women’s art” in the sense that it isn’t “high art” — and that the art women produce is considered merely functional (scarves, embroidered napkins, quilts) — along with the idea of women as sexual objects. Initially I was planning on embroidering some abstract, deconstructed images of pornography, until I found out upon a visit to the IMA yesterday that someone else does the exact same thing. I haven’t seen it and I don’t remember her name, nor do I want to. At first I was surprised, then I realized I’m not that original, but I’m still disappointed that I didn’t come up with someone all that creative. It won’t stop me from doing it, though. I like what I’ve been doing in terms of gifts for friends; some slightly cute-but-scary framed embroidery, but there’s more that I can and want to do with it.

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