Thursday, June 30, 2005

Annual Haircut

In about an hour I'll be going in to have my "annual" haircut. That's what my stylist calls it, anyway. I don't have my hair cut often. She does a really good job of styling it, so that I can go ages without having it cut. A couple of years ago, I donated my long-ass hair to the cancer wig people. I'm thinking I should do that every 5 years or so.

But I digress.

Every time I go in to have my hair cut, I swear to myself that I'm going to put aside some money so I can have it done more often. I never seem able to do this. Is it a subconscious, self-hatred thing? Do I simply care so little about my appearance that I won't go in for a haircut?

No. I don't hate myself. I just don't have any money, and it's hard to justify the expense, when I could just let it grow out. Haircuts are really a luxury, when you think about it. So, I don't go in very often.

Except she's got me almost hooked on the waxing.

Yes, gentlemen, it's true. Some women are just into pain. My eyebrows look amazing after she's done with them; they look much better than I could do with a tweezer. And the pain is far less than tweezing, because it's over all at once.

Of course, there are other health-and-beauty related things that I could get hooked on, if I had the expendable cash. Chiropractor visits. Colonics.

Okay, I won't digress there.

Blogs are bad, mmmmkaaay?

No, not really, they're not.

But they really are.

Have you read some of the schlock that's floating around cyberspace? I mean, shit, even that last sentence I wrote blows. Totally clich├ęd. I have a couple of blogs I read, but it's hard to find good ones, sometimes.

Sometimes I surf Blogger, just to see what's out there. BO-RING. It's much more fun to search craigslist.

What's even more fun is reading the ads on craigslist. The personal ads. The funniest ones (to me) are the "gay men seeking gay men" ads. Allow me to share:


Okay, I can't share. Those ads are really profane. Oh, and many of them have photographs. Oh, yes. Photographs of penises. Penii. And buttocks.

So that's much more interesting to read than boring-ass blogs. Like this one. Go on. Go find yoruself some "fun in the afternoon." That guy's from Boulder.

too freaking busy to blog

I guess you'd better call or email me.

Thursday, June 23, 2005

Don't Be Surprised

...when you try to get in touch with me and have found I've moved to Iowa.

The past few weeks, days even, have been terrible in Denver. Two people were found dead today, outside a community rec center. Possible homicide-suicide, they say.

Yesterday, a woman was killed by some asshat who shot at her boyfriend. Boyfriend is still in the hospital, in critical condition. Some bystander got shot in the arm. Oh, did I mention this happened inside a mall?

The day before that, two people were executed, pumped full of bullets, while sitting in their car on the street, presumably near where they live. The reason? The man was going to testify as a witness in court, is the speculation.

Horrible car accidents: every day. Asshats pulling out in front of me, causing me to drive using defensive maneuvers. People dying on the road. Every. Single. Day.

I sure hope my book sells like wildfire, because I need to get the hell out of here.

Wednesday, June 22, 2005

Old South Pearl Street Farmer's Market

The following is the text of an email I sent out today. Hooray for me!

Please mark your calendars and plan to attend the official debut of:

Olde Crone's Bewitching Bath Soap


Old South Pearl Street Farmer's Market
Sundays 9am-1pm
In the 1500 S. block of Pearl Street in Denver

I can't wait to see you there!

I will be offering:

Oatmeal Honey Soap (ugly bar discount: $3.00 each)
Lavender Calendula Baby Soap
Patchouli Rosewood Soap
Ancient Times Superspa Soap (with Dead Sea Mud)
Ladies' Lovely Complexion Soap
Clear Skin Support Soap
Wake Up! soap (a fresh, citrus scent)
Bare Bones, No-Nonsense Soap (no fragrance, herbs, or additives; just soap)

aaaaand announcing:

Olde Crone's Solid Lotion

This lotion comes in a solid form, in a push-up tube. It is similar to a tube for lip balm, only much bigger. The lotion melts when applied to the skin; the tube helps to keep things neat. This fantastic, all-natural lotion contains shea butter, cocoa butter, hempseed oil, and beeswax. Shea butter is a true wonder of the world: use it to heal cracked, dry skin on heels, elbows, around fingernails, etc. Use it on your bald head. Use it on your hands. Shea butter is truly amazing. It is reputed to help heal scar tissue, help prevent wrinkles, helps to soften the skin.... it will heal a broken heart! It will increase your bra size! It will get you backstage passes to Blue Oyster Cult! Is there anything shea butter can't do?*

Please come on down (and bring several friends) to the
Old South Pearl Street Farmer's Market
this Sunday, June 26, and see me.
Mention this email, and I'll attempt to sell you some soap!
What a deal!


The Olde Crone

* Answer: Yes. There is plenty that shea butter can't do. I make no cosmetic claims whatsoever. The statements above are somewhat fabricated, and are meant to entertain and keep you reading. But you knew that.

Friday, June 17, 2005

Am I The Only One?

Am I the only person who is completely disgusted by the display of Tom Cruise's "love" for actress Kate Holmes?

I don't generally "follow" celebrity gossip. I have been known to purchase the occaisonal gossip rag, when I'm too tired to read for real, and just want to look at pretty people carrying their groceries to their cars. However, this "love affair" between Tom Cruise, age 803, and Kate Holmes, age 12, has me disgusted.

She is marrying a guy who has had two failed marriages. She is marrying a guy who, in theory, could be her father. He's 18 years older than her. She's converting to, of all things, Scientology! He's jumping up and down on Oprah about her. She's closer in age to his children than to him. And have I mentioned the age difference?

Jesus H. Christ on a pogo stick.

The large age difference shouldn't bother me. But when an international celebrity with two failed marriages, who is a staunch supporter of an international "religious" cult, in his 40s, starts jumping up and down about how he's in "love" with someone so much younger than he is, I think, "Your very public midlife crisis is disgusting to me. People are dying in Iraq, and you think it's a big deal to propose marriage to this woman in Paris. I refuse to pay attention to you anymore."

And I will start ignoring him immediately after this post is over. Which it almost is.

*makes disgusted face*

Eeeeeeeewwwww, Tom Cruise. You need to knock this shit off. It was gross to watch PDA in 8th grade, and it's still gross. Real love doesn't need an international audience to prove itself.

What are you trying to prove?

Okay, I'm done.

Thursday, June 16, 2005


If at all possible, I would advise against taking an educational psychology class.

Good lord.

Of course, I'm teaching such a class in July, and I'm preparing for it right now. If I make a good impression, do a good job, the university may ask me back for this class. At that point, preparing for it and teaching it are much less work. They pay me well, so it's worth it to put forth my best effort.

But, man. This reading is intense. If anybody has insomnia, I have a recommendation.

Friday, June 10, 2005

How Not to Do Business

Surreal experiences are not foreign to me of a Friday morning. After all, I am a public school teacher, and for some reason Fridays are the most difficult day of the week.

But I digress. I digress far and wide, because this is SUMMER, and I should not be talking about school.

I'm back.

Okay, here's the scenario: Yesterday I got a phone call about my new soap business, "Olde Crone's Bewitching Bath Soap." The person left a message specifically asking for my business. This intrigued me, because I have not been advertising as such, so I was thinking this person was referred by my group of friends who have purchased my soap.

Silly, silly me.

You see, last week I went downtown and procured my state and local business licenses. I now have to collect sales tax on my purchases, etc. etc. No big deal. I should have seen the influx of phone calls coming.

The phone call mentioned above was from a woman who works for a merchant credit processing company. She was soliciting me to set up a merchant account, so that I could receive credit cards as payment for my business. While I feel this is a good idea, I'm not really ready to sit down and pursue it, yet. However, the woman yesterday was quite pleasant and seemed to know her business very well. Unfortunately, I was on the road at the time, so I asked her to email me about a potential meeting with her next week. I have yet to receive that email, but that's no big deal; I bet she'll call me back.

Okay, fast-forward to this morning. My phone rings yet again, saying, "Private Number," on the display. At that point, I figured it was another credit company, and I was right.

*deep breath* Now, the details I am about to impart to you are a bit shocking, so brace yourselves. Refer to the title of this entry to assist the bracing:

The woman began with her spiel, and immediately I asked her, "Can you send me the details in an email, so I can read it at my leisure?"

She responded, "Oh, well, I don't know how to use the email, so I prefer to talk to you about it over the phone."

At which point, I blinked. Twice. I then shook my head a little bit to clear it, and responded, professionally and calmly, "Well, if you don't know how to use email, then I don't think I want to do business with your company." I thought this was fair; the year is 2005, after all, and I should be able to do business via email, if that is my preference, ESPECIALLY since she was soliciting me.

After I made this statement, she said, "Oh." AND THEN SHE HUNG UP ON ME AS I WAS SPEAKING.

*closes eyes, shakes head again*

Which proves that my instincts were correct about that business.

p.s. She called back immediately afterward. I declined the call to send it to voice mail. She didn't leave a message. I presume she was going to give me some bullshit about how we got "disconnected." *snort!* Yeah, right.

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

What Teachers Do In The Summer

We work.

Oh, yeah, yeah, I can hear you right-wing, conservative ass-monkeys right now: You get paid in the summer for doing nothing! What are you talking about? You don't work!

Bullshit, we don't.

I don't know one teacher who is happy with her salary and simply lounges around in the summer. It has nothing whatsoever to do with our "nature," either. It is simply an economic necessity.

For instance, consider, oh, I don't This summer, I have already:
  • started a soap business
  • acquired business licenses for said business
  • begun work on the class I'm teaching in July
  • done research for the book I'm writing.
That's just in one week of summer "vacation." Not a lot of lounging around with a cocktail. I'd love to do that, but I can't. I have to earn more money.

And those of you who think we "get paid in the summer for doing nothing," can suck it. We get paid a SALARY. Think of it as one tiny pile of money, evenly divided by 12. We are then given one of those extra-tiny piles each month. Therefore, we are getting paid in the summer for work we already did.