Spade-ism #17.
July 23, 2008
This is completely off-color, but even my mom laughed when she heard it…
I’m as worn out as a cucumber in a convent.
Excuses.
July 23, 2008
I have none. No excuses. I have not been hibernating. I did not take a trip to the North Pole. I am not bound and tied up somewhere.
I am just worn out (see Spade-ism #17).
At the beginning of this month, I opened my own company. Blue Media Boutique. An interactive agency that operates under a unique model. We keep the agency small, so our clients don’t incur ridiculous overhead fees. And then, we source our creatives from a mass of freelance and contract workers all over the world. People I have worked with over the past 15 years. Amazing people. Really creative creatives.
So, the new company thing had me slammed up against the wall for a few weeks. And last week, one of my projects, Needled, kept me slammed up against the window of a plane, as I flew to the west coast and back for a whirlwind video/tattoo/photo/tattoo/interviews/tattoo extravaganza with Marisa DiMattia—tattoo extraordinaire.
And then, to top it off, I got injured in Bootilicious Camp. I did something crazy to my lower back, which is apparently squeezing the nerve in my buttocks. I actually went for a buttocks massage to try and alleviate the pain, but alas, it has returned. So, I am off to the doctor on Thursday to see if he has any advice. In the meantime, I have been sitting on a variety of ice packs…all different shapes and sizes…I am trying to find the best fit for my buttocks.
So much for the no excuses thing, huh?
Spade-ism #16.
July 8, 2008
One of my favorites when describing a total whack-job:
The guy is all foam; no beer.
Needled.
July 4, 2008
One of the projects I work on for my paying job is Needled. It’s a social community site for tattoo enthusiasts, collectors, and voyeurs.
My husband, who’s a fan of Needled (probably more a fan of mine and the work I do), recently created an imeem playlist for Needled.
I thought it was pretty darn good…so good, I’m posting it here.
Spade-ism #15.
July 2, 2008
I nearly forgot to post my Spade-ism for the week.
This week’s Spade-ism is in honor of Boot Camp, something I haven’t posted on in a while. Suffice it to say I am now in my third month of Boot Camp. Yes, you heard correctly. Numero tres. Just call me crazy. I did switch over to a class that starts an hour later, so I am no longer driving to Boot Camp in the dark. However, I am no longer sleeping in either. While I do suck wind every once in a while, my stamina has definitely improved. Of course, this could also be due to the fact that I am no longer carrying around as much weight on my bones. The junk in my trunk is 14 pounds lighter. This is not to say I am back to my Bo Derek bikini days. Far from it. The ol’ muffin top, though, is a lot less muffin.
So, today we ran some sprints and yesterday we did suicides. And, I noticed that my sprints were quickly turning into jogs. My bones ached. I mean, what happened to the limber girl I used to be? I was like an 80-year-old out there. My “quick turns” in suicides were like slow-motion dance moves. Pathetic.
And on that note, I give you this week’s Spade-ism:
I have seen smoke come off of dog shit faster than that.
