My experience with the MRI yesterday. For your edification should you ever need one, or for the curious.

( MRI adventure below the cut )

delux_vivens Did you see this?



http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2009/11/24/michelle-obamas-state-din_n_369854.html

Wow.

I love her in this dress. I think it's the most beautiful I've ever seen her look.

Okay, first of all, during our conversation, she used the phrase "Gee Willikers!" which was totally enough to give me the lulz. I cracked up laughing and told her it was "awesome" that she used that phrase and I was totally going to start using it.

And then later, when were done our chat around the proverbial watercooler:

“See you later!”

ESL co-worker:

“By Alligator!”

LOVE it. I wanted to hug her it was so cute!

( and now for some SERIOUS. BIDNESS. about marital discord )

This is another art quilt I've been working on, inspired by a phrase from Jean de Brebeuf's (heinously offensive) winter hymn called "Huron Carol".

Twas in the moon of wintertime and all the birds had fled, a line perfect and beautiful in its loneliness.



Construction and clickable pics as usual, at my blog.

Thanks for looking!

cross-posted

Over the weekend, I finished up a quilt I'd started a couple of weeks ago:



( And here's the whole thing )

So, I bought myself a little trench coat a while back. I've only worn it once because, truth be told, I have a LOT of clothes and I kinda forgot about this one.

( If you're a single woman, looking for some action, have I got the coat for you! )

Constant Reader,

I've been sick - going on day ... eleven, I think? Not sure, but way too long.

I feel cranky, impatient, tired of doing nothing and inclined to snarl and bite. At the same time, I feel dispirited and over-sensitive. Makes for a really winning personality. I can't even stand my own company.

*ahem*

Precipitated by a recent desire to make snarky and/or mean comments, slash and burn my Flist and/or otherwise incur some righteous bad karma for myself; I'm going to take an LJ break until I feel more like "Kit" again. That way, the world will be bite and snarl free. At least from this corner.

Later,

A-really-ugly-persona-masquerading-as-Kit

BSP and I did a movie marathon of sorts last night and went to see Law Abiding Citizen (two thumbs down) and Where the Wild Things Are (two thumbs wayyyyyyyy up, and btw, a FULL theatre and literally, only ONE child there. lol).

Anyway, before Where the Wild Things Are a trailer for This is It came on. And I my throat closed and I welled up, and BSP asked me if I was okay, and I said "I think so..., but it just hit me. He's really dead."

And BSP said "I know. Such a waste."

And we both sat there with tears in our eyes.




It's so strange, because, it's not like I knew him or anything. But it feels like a personal loss somehow...

A friend of mine is engaged in the Practicum component of hys training at Adler International, working towards certification as a Professional Coach.

Part of hys Practicum requirements include coaching real clients with real issues. Since the guidelines stipulate that hy may not coach family members or friends hy asks that I pass this along to anyone who would like to work with a professional personal coach.

Hy is ready to start working with few clients immediately, so please let me know if you'd like to take advantage of this offer.

Cheers!

Kit

I know, I know, I just posted one on Monday - but I finished that one on Thursday, and this one was finished on Saturday, and my Singer broke, so its in the shop and I'm using my little Kenmore (she's a darling, but she can only handle small quilts), so I'll probably pump out another one or two this week, see how that works? ;)

( Blah, blah, here's my latest )

My latest quilt. This one was a stretch for me, for a number of reasons:



( not least was the colour pallette )

so couldn't work on a big project. So instead, after making quilted tote bags for other people, I finally made one for myself. Yay!



( and here's the little darling )

Okay, okay, it's not my guitar, it's my camera. I lost her last week and I miss her and love her and Mr. Right Now (BSP's camera who is definitely male and definitely not liking me and the feeling is mutual) is an ass.

Anyway! Glad to get that off my chest.

So this weekend, BSP and I went up north to see the fall colours and to - what else - play golf - so we played two amazing courses - The Rock - and Taboo, both of which were UNBELIEVABLY beautiful and one of which (Taboo) had both black bears and wolves casually wandering around (we saw one of each on separate holes), and we stayed in the lovely yet inexpensive the Marriott Suites in Gravenhurst (and loved our bed so much that we are buying one); and we ate at a lovely restaurant called " North Restaurant and Lounge" on Saturday night, that served delicious food and was full of patrons who had never seen a person of African Descent except, apparently, on television; and therefore, watched my every move as if I were, in fact, television (oh white people of small towns, how do I adore thee, let me count the ways *insert big toothy smile here*); but despite that portion of our stay, it was an absolutely amazing weekend and I wish I had pictures to show you it all: or of any of it really, but sadly, Mr. Right Now decided that he was tired, and kept turning himself off every 15 seconds or so, so I only got two pictures, neither of which are worth showing here.

So.

How was YOUR weekend?

Not cutting, sorry tl;dr folks - you'll have to scroll.

Does the Brotherhood of Fame Endow You With a Lifetime Exemption From Accountability?

When I saw the petition protesting the recent arrest of Roman Polanski in Switzerland was signed by some of my most cherished artists -- the likes of Pedro Almodovar, Ariel Dorfman, Costa Gavras, Jonathan Demme, Sam Mendes -- men who I believed to be champions of women's and human rights, frankly, I was shocked. It made it distressingly clear to me that all our years of work have not yet penetrated or changed the culture so that it understands that rape is a legal crime and a crime against the soul. As a survivor, I can attest to the fact that rape forever changes your life, robbing you of dignity, self-worth, agency over your body, and comfortability with intimacy and trust, while also escalating a pervasive sense of isolation and shame.

After 11 years of traveling the world and meeting with rape survivors across the planet I can say that the long-term consequences are multiple and far-reaching, ranging from homelessness, drug abuse, and eating disorders, to imprisonment, suicide, and early death.

The petition defending Polanski doesn't even address his crime. Instead, it calls it a "case of morals." That expression -- a "case of morals" -- takes the anti-violence movement back about a hundred years. Rape is not a question of morals. In fact it's not even a question.

Let's review the facts:

1. A 13-year-old girl is lured to a house by promise of a job by a famous and powerful director.

2. She finds herself in a hot tub.

3. She has an asthma attack.

4. The director says he will help relieve her asthma attack and offers her (unbeknownst to her) half a Quaalude as a remedy.

5. Once the Quaalude takes effect and the girl is sufficiently pliant, he rapes and sodomizes her without consent.

6. When charges are pressed, the director later pleads guilty to "engaging in unlawful sexual intercourse with a minor."

7. After spending 42 days in prison, the director flees the United States to avoid the threat of further imprisonment.


What about this clear-cut case isn't criminal? Does Roman Polanski's undeniable brilliance as a filmmaker somehow not make him a rapist? Does his talent give license to violence? Does the brotherhood of fame endow you with a lifetime exemption from accountability?

No one is arguing the genius of Roman Polanski, or even the pain and tragedy of his difficult life. But in the end, that has nothing to do with the crime he committed. Being an artist does not make any of us exempt from the laws of humanity -- in fact, it actually makes us more responsible to them.


source: our friends at The Huff...

Thanksgiving (god, is it really NEXT WEEEEEEKKKKKKKK????!!!!) and then *shudder* the holiday season will be upon us.



( so, guess what I'm doing? )

so I have a quilt to share called "...Make Something Purple":



but this one has a looooonnnng story to go with it, and you really need to be able to click on the full pic of the quilt to see it well (I lost my beautiful Sony camera over the weekend and am now using a Kodak Easy Share which I already heartily dislike - of course, I'm resistant to change... lol) blah blah.

Anyway, if you wanna see more, please check out my blog.

I apologize for doing this because I hate it when other people post nothing but a link to their blog, but next week I'll have my issues figured out. Promise! :)

I had a kick ass Belle dress when I was younger, the gold one, and I would want to wear it out and my mom would rationally say to me "Now Harper, if you're Belle today, people are gonna want to talk to you and tell you how pretty you look. Are you prepared for that?" and somedays I would accept it, and others I would want to keep my anonymity and go out in normal clothes.

It was tough being a princess.

At another time in my life, that would have been my journal title...

:)

Okay, okay, I confess that nothing following the title of this post has anything to do with the definition of the word, but I like the word and wanted to use it, m’kay? Don't worry, be happy. :D

( erratta, erratta, erratta )

So, last week and over the weekend I've been working on a project using these fabrics, along with the addition of white cotton sateen



( and from it, you'll be surprised to know, I made a quilt )