Painter's Palate

One of my favorite creative outlets is painting. (I also enjoy cooking, listening to music, dancing, and long walks on the beach. Actually, not really. Walking in sand is difficult.) Recently, The Paint Cellar opened up over at Southlands Mall and I have been there several times. I've been to both the instructed sessions and open paint sessions, and I'd have to say that I enjoy both equally. I've gone with friends and on my own, and again I enjoy both occasions. Now, I may be biased but I think I've created some pretty stellar pieces, most recently a painting of the moon through the trees. Well, you'd think that based on the glowing report I've given thus far that I love every part of the process. If you think this, you'd be wrong. The part I like least about painting is the GIGANTIC ASS MESS I make, specifically on my paper palate...and my clothes...and my hands...and my shoes. There is an abnormal amount of paint mixing that goes on in front of my canvas. Most people take the basic colors and make it either darker or lighter and move on. Oh no, not me. I have to make it lighter with a tint of some other color, and then slightly darker because it was too light and then it needs some blue and then...I think you get the point. So what starts as a normal sized spot of mixed colors turns into a crazy sprawling blob of color that goes from light to dark and back again several times. Sometimes I need two palates. TWO. The normal painter (aka any person I've every gone painting with or see at a paint place or most likely anyone reading this blog) needs one palate for paint. But not me. I need TWO. But this process of mixing, lightening, adding blue, darkening, lightening again, etc. usually results in a beautiful, one of a kind piece of artwork. Does that count?

If you'd like to receive one of my creative masterpieces, leave a comment on my blog or hit me up on FB or Twitter. I'll see what I can do. You may even get a picture of the palate I used to make your painting! 

TV as an Emotional Evaluation

Every morning while I'm getting ready I put Bitty in his bouncy chair and put the tv on to the Disney Junior channel. He doesn't really watch tv, but the background noise is kid friendly and he sometimes likes the music. I've realized over the past few weeks that the shows on Disney Junior, actually my reaction to the content therein, gives me a pretty good gauge for my attitude that day. Let me explain. For example, one morning last week Doc McStuffins was helping a toy feel better, and said that you could still be brave even if you asked for help. I literally almost teared up. I thought, "You're right, Doc. I'm still brave. Even brave people (or dragons as the episode may be) can ask for help sometimes." Sadface. I realized that I was feeling a bit tired and emotional that morning and planned accordingly. I wore a super cute outfit to work and had some peanut butter. Peanut butter makes everything better. (So does cheese. I'm pretty sure that queso is what holds the pieces of my soul together. That may be another blog post topic. Stay tuned.)  Well, not all mornings are that emotional. A few weeks ago we were listening to Special Agent Oso help a kid make breakfast or something. After he completed his mission, the mom asked if Special Agent Oso could stay for breakfast. Oso replied, "No, I've got to get back to headquarters." I replied, with more immediacy than I realized I was capable of that early in the morning, "And because you eat people for breakfast because you're a bear." The hell is wrong with me? That's so snarky, and not even remotely appropriate for a kids show. "Sorry kids, Special Agent Oso is now wanted by the FBI for EATING THE JOHNSON FAMILY." Yeah, I can really see Disney getting behind that episode. Sometimes I'm even more than snarky. While listening to the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse show last week Mickey kept asking Goofy to say the magic words. Goofy messed up the magic words several times in a row. Each time he messed it up, Mickey would ask the audience if those were the magic words. Then the obligatory pause for response from Mickey...and then, "You're right, those aren't the magic words!". Now, the first time Mickey asked this question I didn't think much of it. By the third or fourth time he asked though I had the RAGE*. "No those aren't the magic words! Come on, Goofy, get your shit together! Seriously!" I had to remind myself that this was a kids show and I probably shouldn't change the channel aggressively and chuck the remote. Who gets that emotionally revved up over kids shows? Honestly... But I try really hard on those days when I'm especially snarky to improve my attitude before I leave the house...and sometimes I just roll with it. I feel like I should have a warning button that flashes "SNARK MONSTER" on it on those days. Does that count?

*For more information on the RAGE, check out my blog post on Jerk Carpet Tacks.

Cheese to Ketchup Ratio

Ever since I was a young lass, (I'm part Irish, I can use lass) I've preferred the simpler things in life. Tap water instead of sparkling, a house salad instead of Caesar, flip flops instead of shoes and socks, a pull through parking spot instead of having to inch my car back and forth to get into a spot that it doesn't actually fit into at this angle because the a-hole next to me can't park his car, heck even peanut butter and jelly WITHOUT THE JELLY. Simple, right? Another simple food I've always ordered is a cheeseburger with only ketchup. (If you're one of 'those' people who call it catsup I'd love to hear your thoughts on how that's even correct. Moving on.) Well, as simple as this order sounds--a cheeseburger with only ketchup--you'd be surprised at the number of ways this can be screwed up. Usually what happens is I'll get a hamburger with ketchup. This irritates me to no end. How hard is your job order taker person and/or food maker person? A CHEESEburger with only ketchup does not mean I want you to take off the cheese. Cheese is a glorious, glorious food and I'm personally offended when you feel the need to disregard part of my order and deny me what is honestly the best part of the meal. I usually end up eating the burger, but I'm not happy about it. Sometimes what happens is I'll get a regular cheeseburger, with all of the other crap and no ketchup. Or a ketchup packet on the side. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? There is nothing wrong with those other ingredients; I like them all separately, sometimes a few of them together in other foods, but just not all together. I didn't order a salad on a bun with some meat and cheese. I like it simple, remember? The most irritating screw up of this rather simple order though is when I get a cheeseburger with ketchup. How is this a screw up you may ask? Isn't that what you ordered? Yes, yes it is my fine reader. But I didn't ask anyone to REPLACE ALL OF THE OTHER THINGS that usually come on a cheeseburger at any given restaurant WITH KETCHUP.

Who in the hell wants to eat a GALLON of ketchup? If I have to start ordering a cheeseburger with "only cheese and ketchup, but with the normal amount of ketchup you'd put on a cheeseburger and not a lot of extra to take up the space of the rest of the stuff you usually put on there" it becomes too complicated and I've lost all interest. Who wants to be THAT person at the counter/drive through/table? Certainly not me. And I'm pretty sure if I started ordering it that way they'd start leaving off the bun or the burger or something even more ridiculous. The whole thing is just exasperating. I just want a simple cheeseburger with an appropriate amount of ketchup on it since everything else in the world seems so complicated, does that count?  P.S. To my friends, cousins, and husband who continually think that this order is "weird": no it's not. It's my cheeseburger and I'll eat it any way I want. You're weird.