crankygirl productions


[ Too darn hot]

Here it is the end of July, dammit, and I've yet to craft my list of summer plans. 52 days left.

composite of images called july 31

How is it that you can take an instant dislike to someone's voice? I heard this women yelling out to her husband and something about the tone made me shudder and feel apprehensive. Similar to the way I felt as my knees buckled crossing the street yesterday where I had my accident. It's been six years now, but the terror felt quite fresh and vivid. Now this gal's voice wasn't quite so awful, but it was distasteful and I knew I wouldn't like her if we met. Next thought was "stop being so judgemental missy, how do you know what's she like, she's probably very nice..." and then the next was "quit with this voice-over stuff in your head kiddo, you've been watching too much of Taken, you sound like that precocious little quarter-alien kid".


[ Search]

The mailman (person) was generous to me yesterday, sending my life off in new delirious directions. Which made me wonder, do mailpeople have emotional attachments to the letters they deliver? Do they fret over placing late bills in the box of the guy who just lost his job, consider 'losing' rejection letters to the earnest writers, and gleefully deposit cheques?


Smart, funny, witty, neurotic, with penchant for stretching the truth; but overall likeable weirdo


[ Beach I]

Mangoes, plums, blueberries, organic apricots. These are currently on the counter, awaiting consumption.

jericho beach

She is wearing a long shirt that scoops across her thighs. Her hair is shoulder length, a mousy brown shade that's been lightened by the sun. We are on the beach, watching her. She is doing yoga postures and telling her boyfriend "I love being me", in a squeaky, exuberant voice. This statement I take as proof of her youth. She gets up and saunters towards the ocean. A few feet from the shore, she unbuttons the purple top, and lets it drop to the sand. She is naked. She stands there for a few seconds, gazing at the sea, and then wades in. Later, I overhear her say "I'm an exhibitionist", after she's done a few joyful cartwheels on the sand.


Two great talents have passed: Carol Shields, 68 and Compay Segundo, 95.

il faut souffrir pour etre belle Suffering from the infusion of a heat wave. Today I am positively reduced to jelly.

Reading: Lose the Buddha finishes a triathalon! | Mopie makes weight-loss progress | Robyn sets the record straight. Notice a trend? I think I'm a weight-loss blog junkie. It could be because I like looking at charts and statistics.

[I also read other stuff too - for the linguist within, @ openbrackets -- but then again, it is about language, which uses the tongue, which relates to food...]


[The Queen is Dead...]

So why I am still being paid to create a site that works not just with netscape 6 or 7, but 4? huh?

The godfather of the web, as I suspect some consider him to be, Mr. Zeldman, has declared the death of Netscape. Actually, many have done so, but his voice has this ring of authenticity to it, like a newspaper boy yelling out the headlines of yore.



Here it is the 14th of July, 3 weeks into the full swing of the lushness of summer, and I haven't gotten around to updating my summer plans list yet. Lazy bones.


In 1998, I was lucky enough to have a show in France, and to stay in this amazing chateau in the country. It was the southern part of France, the weather was perfect, sunny and hot. Copious amounts of fresh basil and tomatoes were available to have with bocconcini cheese from Italy. And, of course, there was wine. Abundant, delicious and cheap. It doesn't get much better than that. A minor inconvenience was that there was no phone where we were staying, and so making calls entailed a 5 minutes walk to the payphone on the road. I bought a télécarte card with 50 unités to make my calls back over the Atlantic and gloat. It turned out 50 unités was quite a lot of time, (cheap compared to the outrageous amount Telus charges for their calling cards) so I ended up with leftover units on the card. Which, 5 years later, I am still in possession of said units. This is evidence of the pack-rat within.

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