Molly Goatwax

Proud Sponsor (I hope)

I am designing the postcard invitation for my art opening, and am trying to ready a file to plug into the printer's template. It may be frustrating and time consuming, but I get to make it look all professional n stuff by re-formatting and inserting this logo from my new pals who are supplying the free beer:

 

WHEEEEEEEEE!

feeling the dread

Do you get the feeling that, as you are waiting for the other shoe to drop, it is going to be an anvil rather than a shoe?

and yet I plug away

I went by the gallery where I have wood cuts displayed this afternoon, with my contract and with the intention of collecting any unsold works and/or monies due. I was talked into letting them remain, and to deliver some goats which the gallery owner has not yet seen. She also wanted to see a CD of the work to be shown in December at the municiple gallery, as it will be up for grabs after that. In addition, the woodcut in the window was righted and I was given 2.25. That's two dollars twenty five cents.

not one of them revealed a cookie

If you were odd, like me, you might walk into your studio and open one of a pile of cigar boxes to find;

an old brass gas jet

a bobbin, some key holes

and drawer pulls shaped like a monster face

under a small booklet

all about artichokes

including recipies

and some delightful engravings.

A new adventure

I awoke before the crack of dawn to arrive across town, in uniform, to bathe and dress a ninety eight year old woman. Oh, she fought a little bit, but we reached an understanding. After a while she sang yiddish school songs for me. I wonder if they'll fire me when I wheel her to the corner bar? (Big Sigh.........) Better not. She'd get more positive utility if I watch out for some cake. She likes cake.

no one asked me

My head feels as though it will pop. My present mortgage on my primary residence is at 7%. The current market rate is hovering around 5.5%. I called the company holding the paper to see if they would reduce the interest rate to ease my pain. They would not, without a fully documented refinance loan for which I would not now qualify. I have never been 30 days late on this mortgage payment, so I don't qualify for the principal abatement offered in the latest government bailout plan. They would not consider a loan modification request without a 100 dollar application fee and a minimum of 10,000 dollars towards the principal. I told the representative I could apply additional payments towards my principal anytime I wanted, without a letter or an application fee. She then referred me to a religious charity for payment assistance. At that point my blood pressure shot up at least 50 points and I asked to speak to her supervisor. She asked me why. I told her I didn't need to tell her why I wanted to talk to her supervisor. If I were a veteran with a VA loan or if I had an FHA mortgage, all I would need would be 12 months good mortgage history to roll into a lower interest rate loan (with the settlement costs held at a ceiling and included in the new loan). In the refinance heyday of 2002, I did that with my conventional loan. Now, it seems, my mortgage company has more interest and assistance for me losing the house* on pennies for their dollar than simply reducing my interest rate. What is wrong with them?

*Not going there, just ranting on the phone.

Witness

After I asked the parents whether their newborn was ready for his portrait, I wheeled my cart into the mother's hospital room. As I entered their information into the computer on my mobile studio, the dad slipped his son into a football jersy identical to his own, except, of course, it was at least twenty times smaller. "Wow," I said, "We've got a new fan!". The boy was alert and clutched a tiny football as he peered upwards towards the camera and its flashing light. It must have been serendipity, but the little bruiser looked as if he were ready to make the pass, much to his father's delight. They didn't want the wallet sized prints or 8x10s or refrigerator magnets, Dad wanted the team themed announcements with the new player's stats for his rec room. Now here was a guy who woulda bounded to work with a box of cigars a generation ago. Mom didn't particularly care, but the twinkle in her amused eyes let me know that she was glad baby daddy was finding his own way to bond. I could tell what a smart lady she is. I'm sure she'll get her rack 'o rocks, biding her time.

Hottie or Nottie?

 

Central Image courtesy LAPD

Let Paris tell you how HOT you really are! OMG! This is sooooooo obvious. I mean, don't tell me I'm the first to stick a thermometer and hygrometer on Paris Hilton's mug shot!