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Below are the 25 most recent journal entries.

	2008.09.04  21.24 loving the alien apparently, i am married to the brunette johnny bravo.  one of his students made the observation that he resembled the cartoon doodle yesterday, and the kiddies latched on to this idea.  at the end of a lesson today, the kids started applauding, shouting out "BRAVO!" mister. bravo! could be worse, it could have been the tick.  or perhaps....  homer simpson.  Mood: amused Music: why don't you love me, david duchovny?

	2008.08.24  23.35 camping with the queen of sheba happy five year anniversary, gregjaw!  now you get the real deal, makeup optional.  fooled you into thinking i was a beauty queen 24/7, eh?!  soon i will be belching in public, and then the world- she ends.  make your peace & say your prayers.  disclaimer: this photo was actually taken on august 1st, but we're busy folk.

	2008.08.12  22.41 Coyotes! Yapping it up, outside the loo window. Coyotes! Music: Coyotes!

	2008.06.18  00.06 dancing queen dancing queen Originally uploaded by netochka disco budgie! party chez jawvanova, tuesday night edition.

	2008.03.26  19.18 I might be running under the wire, conversationally; but this doesn't make me defunct or idle. Let's just pretend I am playing hard to get, and that the payoff is a full-release funtime. Was it just last Friday when there were no less than five humans moon-walking in our living room? I joined eventually, awkwardly using muscles disused since 1984. Back to baking chocolate cake for the resident male, who earns this sort of treat every day we have together. Luckily for our fat, the reward isn't daily, 'else we would be quite corpulent. I now return you to your regularly scheduled mania, already in progress. Mood: busy Music: «White Lines (Don't Do It)» - Melle Mel and The Furious Five

	2008.01.07  09.04 what happens to you when you don't listen to MOTHER. You make fabulous vids. Artful, even. This video was made by a man who calls himself Peter A. Benedetti. Mr. Benedetti is an ARTIST, and don't you forget it. My man is the one in the pig mask, in addition to the bassist and lead leer'er in this moving picture show. We have since mounted the mask on the wall in the same manner as some folks do with decapitated deer heads. We call this trend in interior design "prefab rural." The video? If you insist. Special points for anyone who can find me... Mood: touched

	2007.11.14  20.09 facial hair + cigarette holder + smirk = total hotness. There are only two reasons to see the film "Factory Girl," the palette used in recreating Edith's room and this man. Cary Elwes, you are brilliant as usual*. The facial hair + cigarette holder + smirk = total hotness. Now that you have seen this picture, you really don't need to see the movie, as I will be stealing the gauloise blue & burgundy scheme for my own playroom and you can just come and visit me. *no, I did not see any of the Saw series, and I don't think I will. Thanks for asking. Mood: sympathetic

	2007.11.08  09.27 breakfast of champions Pumpkin pie, mocha latte, vitamins. Granted, it is a vegan (tofu) pie with low-glycemic sweetness. And the latte is made with fair-trade coffee and chocolate, unsweetened soylent green and agave syrup. Vitamins are just veg-vitamins. Later, we hike in our first freezing morning. The house temperature is in the 50s F, all the tropicals are in the loft-studio, which pools the warm air. Snow is expected later this week, if only a touch. Strange to think of my recently relocated brother sending me photos of dolphins nosing up in the wake from his boat, located in a tropical climate. He named the boat after me (and my mother, who tucked her name into my full appellation). This is pretty cool, you have to admit.

	2007.10.15  13.56 two of hearts Mondays, to the 9-5ers are usually met with dread and derision. I woke this morning to my second wedding anniversary, and a day to spend with the mister. Considerate husband got out of bed to brush his teeth straightaway and then return to bed to present me with a sonnet (Shakespearian-format, natch) in a pretty frame. While much profession of love and tenderness was presented, the use of the phrases "gore swaddled" and "fire walking" make their appearance, proving it to be original from the mind and hands of gregjaw himself. Have I mentioned lately how fortunate I am to have a lad who understands how difficult my life is just now? He is the perfect fit. This year, we have attended two beautiful weddings. The most recent one was a few weeks back, and this is one of the photos the instamatic machine at the reception location spat out. Mood: loved Music: http://tinyurl.com/2z89cw

	2007.09.06  10.33 why don't you love me, David Duchovny? eat it!

	2007.08.30  09.57 file: what I did with my summer unvacation Dirty! Originally uploaded by netochka You know you want some of this temping contagion.

	2007.07.24  08.59 get you Weekend report: celebrate good times, white shoes and suit, picking marzipan slabs from a wedding cake, say anything scenario, herbal centerpiece, s'mores pit, beaut, no I won't take your photo, pomade, champagne for your real friends - real pain for your sham friends, barn dance, gliding through the night with a carload of sleeping librarians, Olana - the self claimed center of the world. Mood: refreshed

	2007.07.16  17.40 *g* La passerelle des Arts smirk, just for you.

	2007.05.31  10.17 Fresh figs and champagne is far better than burgers for breakfast. Springwatch Nightshift is the best game in town, hands down.  What a better way to entertain you while you drift off after a hard day's slog through Greyville than to watch owlets (still in cottonball stage) hang out.  Try to put out of your mind their fraternal cannibal natures; it is all natural.  Thank you, BBC2; thank you mes amis.  Back to chapter eight in the life of netochka  Please stand by. Mood: okay Music: boeing 767-200 engine

	2007.05.07  01.33 five miles meandering with a mazy motion     Today I was taken care of.  He made certain I ate delicious things and cleaned up the mess while keeping out of my way when I needed to do the things that get in the way of the usual silliness that fills the day most happily.  While I worked away at not-so-random, semi-esoteric information; he sat at the next table, considering syntax and spelling.  I would randomly shoot a phrase at him of our breed of nonsense, and he would reply in kind, amusing my confederates.  "Cute," they call us.  Dammit, we are, and have been for years now.     Later, he wouldn't let me do the things I had asked him to stop me from, dare I consider them.  I respect him for that, and thank him for listening when I assured him that I wouldn't take his face off for keeping me from being bad.  Instead, I recorded us singing along to the Olivia Newton-John film, Xanadu; a childhood hit for both of us.  The sound on the TV is on the fritz, and so I put on the subtitles.  The result?  Karaoke in the worst way.  Who knows, Gastric Pink may have its next hit.  Mood: awake

	2007.04.26  23.28 In girum imus nocte et consumimur igni

	2007.03.25  20.43 "I'm ready for my close up, mister DeMille" What I did with my Saturday, by netochka, age __ .  Wrapped in Plastic, with special guest Gregjaw as stagehand Oh, the horror! Music: Psychocharger

	2007.03.07  14.03 Forgive me, friends; for I have sinned. It has been one month since my last el jay confession. Furthermore, I have started blogging anonymously elsewhere.  SIN upon SIN.  I simply needed a place to speak out loud about where I am currently, and where I am headed.  I don't need an audience.  People who know me have many ways of taking my temperature, and I love them for it. And now, a diversionary image. Thank you for holding.  Shall we continue? I feel a million miles from the full time adventuress and part time art dilettante who started this patter many moons ago.  I'm a married madam, for crying out loud.  My work is focused on the living and dying rather than the dead or artificial.  Usually.  I should be carving out an interaction recording, but instead I am listening to Joel Grey warble through "White Room."   Contradictions make reality, eh?  I'm still hot for art, don't misunderstand.  I just don't feel the compulsion to share myself anymore. I feel as if many of you are strangers, and although I admire many of you, I'm not feeling tied to this quasi-interactive medium. That's all I have got for you at the moment, personally.  Thank you for your attention. Music: White Room - Joel Grey

	2007.02.11  19.20 tea was served and snapped up by the cold children, and maps were shared showing where we had been Today was quite lovely. the three best parts were waking up with someone I love, having breakfast in a semi-private dining room with my parents and hearing them thank my husband for being such a good man, and ice skating near the place I married that man in a beautiful pavilion with Sherlock Holmes watching. Seriously....! There is a historical recreation group from CT* who visits the 'Haus twice a year to "kick back and relax" Victorian Stylee. Imagine ice skating in full length skirts, raccoon-skin furs and perfectly coiffed hair under imaginative hats. Coincidentally, I was wearing a long plaid pleated skirt, a fitted velvet jacket and matching hat and woolen stockings and imagined I looked like someone's adolescent girl with my hair in long curls. IN ANY CASE. One fellow was wearing a deerstalker and cape, looking ready to climb up the Reichenbach Falls. He'd be fun at a party, eh? I don't have photos as I don't have a decent camera anymore. Ye olde digital's battery holds a charge for all of 7 photos, and is therefore only one step up from carrying around all the caboodle for wet-plate photography. To replace the battery is about 1/3 of what I paid for the camera new 5+ years ago, and so I am shopping for something compact, tough, and with a good lens. I'm considering the nikon s10, but I'm considering other options. And for the record, yesterday was rather neat as well. AKS took me & the mister out for Breakfast at Tiffanys at a local theater, and we took HER out for sushi in retaliation. Why is she so close, yet such a rare treat? In any case, there is cake to be eaten and the rest of the evening ahead. *Anyone know anything about this group? A quick search online yielded nothing.

	2007.02.09  23.48 listen for the mourning doves If you want to see a GREAT movie that nobody saw last year, go see HOLLYWOODLAND. Ben Affleck is great (I can’t believe I just wrote that), and the whole thing is lovely to watch. The sound, sets, cars and costume are on; and the story rolls along with the sadness of a (possible?) suicide, laced with manic giddiness and a bit of that which makes us hop into bed together. Really, lovely. Adrien Brody is ok, but second fiddle in this flick, no matter how prominent his mug was on the posters. In fact, it was his scenes that slowed the progression of the film. If his character was such a good detective, why did it take so long to work out the angles? By far, it was quite superior to the “other” noirish flick of ‘06, duh Black Dahlia, which I only recommend watching with the sound off. While doing something else, perhaps tipsy. In other unrelated news, I just read an article with the 10 sexiest professions and had to write my mum to let her know that all her children & their s/os are “sexy.” Teacher, Doctor, Nurse, Bartender, Airline Hostess. Mood: awake

	2007.01.26  16.29 synopsis, an·he·do·ni·a über alles Tuesday, there was a heart beating, a comfortable arm's breadth from my gazing eyes. The sternum was cracked and retracted, the pericardium was parted, and it pulsed along, unhindered. Wednesday, I had strange dreams that I was leaping over viridian hills, hand in hand with a man I had seen smash the back of someone's skull in with a wooden cane. We were looking for a place to snog, and I carried the broken cane in my free hand as we covered ground. My very scientific husband explained that I was connecting with my animus, and didn't bother to show even a flicker of jealousy. Also on this date, someone posted mp3 which caused major flashback-time. These were songs from an album that was released only after one of the key members died, a band I saw more than a few times and who effected me each and every time. That fellow was a friend of mine, and of the man who was mine at the time. I could remember the inside of my car, how far back from the lead cars we were during the funeral procession, who was in the car, and what we were listening to (Johnny Cash on 8-track- hey, it was a Lincoln Mark IV, the very height of 70s class dragged forward to the late 90s) I can remember how people acted, looked, even the clothes they wore. I can also recall the times I would run into this fellow on the local thoroughfare, and how we would sit together and try to eat something, and how polite, sweet and hopeful he could be. I remember how he would jab at his guitar as he played, and how he would make the most tortured sounds with his voice. Ironically, I'm reviewing JUST NOW how to deal with chemical dependence, sitting in on AA/NA meetings and working with recovering addicts while preparing for a gauntlet on Monday which will test my ability to act when someone is ODing or detoxing. I keep thinking of him. This timing befuddles me. I always remember the date of his passing, as it is in my calendar yearly, and in my mind as the weather turns cold. He was the first person who passed prematurely in my life that I felt hadn't come close to fulfilling their potential, artistically. I grieved for those who loved him and I still cry with his recorded voice when I think of what he should have done, given more time. I really don't have anyone who can understand what I am feeling at this time in my life. I try to reach to those I imagine would understand, and nobody puts their hand back towards me. I wonder if his parents still live in the same place, and if I went there again, would his mother put her arms around me and try to make me feel better. She was stunning, really. Thursday, I made it through on autopilot. Having a semi-shrink for a husband is handy. & anyway- Today. I have somewhere to be, five minutes ago. Mood: cold

	2006.12.04  12.00 uses for Moxie soda, found in the recesses of your fridge: drinking! “Welfare Mom”, which consists of equal parts Diet Moxie and Allen's Coffee Flavored Brandy “County Girl”, a drink made up of one part Bourbon and two parts Moxie on the rocks, with an optional lime garnish. wiki wiki I was bundled up like Ms. Ostriche in this photo all weekend. She was an early spokesmodel for Moxie, which is why I tossed her img here. I am not the spokesmodel, but I think I may put in my resume to their HQ, now that I think on it. The mister + I were powerless, deep in the woods, as a result of a strobing, blustering stormfront this Friday evening. Nothing like a tornado warning after nightfall to put a little adrenaline in your bloodstream. The temps dropped from the abby-normal 70s to the low 30s in a 24 hr period, and we packed ourselves up in the house for warmth. The fridge began to defrost, so we packed all up & hid it in the bear-proof rockstar van. Before returning the goods, a thorough exorcism was deemed prudent. This 6-er of Moxie was sent to me by a New Englander who knew I had a fancy for it. Whenever I was in their area, they would run to the shops + pick some up for me. When I stopped my visits, they sent some via post to tried to lure me back. Tempting. Synopsis: if you have to be off the grid for any amount of time, do it in a home with a sympa lad, lots of books + art supplies + a radio + batteries, a bathtub filled with water, and a gas grill. Cell phone + intoxicants are optional.

	2006.11.21  02.08 Sssh. Don't tell anyone what I am doing this Saturday. Me & Zeff, at the Met. Not bad. New York City. Only 90 miles due South, but it feels further than France. I go back for a few days, and the gutters fill with possibilities. Almost like a light switching on, there it all is again. I'm free from now until mmMonday, and resolve to get in as much of the Kultur as I can in a short amount of time, utterly GUILT FREE. I may even get to spend time with my husband. Radical!

	2006.11.16  17.35 It's a baby! Sorry for the radio silence, but I have been terrifically busy. I can't believe I will be applying in the next 2-3 months for a real jobby-job, but it is TRUE. Courses are going swell, and I'm still remarkably undamaged, even if I am currently in a labour/delivery rotation now. I am not a baby person, no offense to all the wonderful 'rents reading this. Sitting around waiting for someone to show up (let alone pop) isn't my speed, and I am glad that there are people especially suited to screaming, swearing & sweating. This is how I spent MY morning, how about you? http://www.or-live.com/hartfordhospital/1352/ disclaimer/hint: the OR in OR-live is operating room, not o r-ly. Not terribly work safe, unless you work in a place with free-flowing body fluids. This isn't THE surgery I was in on, but one quite similar;, as in both, everyone is happy in the end. Enjoy your meal!

	2006.09.21  11.28 get this sadness Today, I'm up and dressed (by noon, when I am due to tutor weasels). My hair is one big tangle, which can only be dealt with quickly by pulling into a big ol' pomp. Inspired, I pulled a hawaiian shirt & 'beater from my man's side of the closet, and I'm betting I will finish it off with my creepers, which gather dust in the bottom of my closet. I'm sure the students that come to me for tutoring will assume I'm dressing as Wolverine, but inside I will know that when I go home & see my awakening man, he will hope it is just a nightmare. You know things are sad when you do the following: 1. dress like your spouse in a twisted homage 2. schedule in "make the love, bedtime" in your calendar god ol' night/day schedule differential. good ol' edumacatin'. In other news, methinks tonight will be a time-waster. Hollywoodland. Why? It might not be the epic of the year, but it has two things, guaranteed: a Fake Superman and Good Hair.