Yahoo? Fuck You.

Forget Everything Else I've Said Today - Everything.

Please re-direct your prayers here:

French Quarter


This is a broken levee, leaking and inch of water/hr into NOLA

Canal Street, two hours ago

The Treme (NOLA)

The 8th Ward, NOLA

There but for the grace of God go I.

The Dawn of a New Day

This is it, folks. This is the dawning of a new day.
In precisely as-soon-as-I-finish-my-coffee-minutes, I shall be driving the familiar road, then driving beyond my previous work place and on to my new job.

Will I veer left on Haywood and run screaming to my boss, "Please take me back?" Will I pull into the parking lot, listen to a few minutes of Monsters in the Morning for old-times sake, then head on my way?

Or, will I drive by and fling my middle finger out the window, laughing maniacally on the way past?

Yes, probably that last one will do. Let me tell you, yesterday (my LAST day of freedom between jobs) I went to pick up my paycheck. I ended up STUCK there for several hours (almost a full day) because apparantly they can't live without me and it's all going to hell in a hand-basket. Nice!

But today... today I'm nervous as hell. I hate starting over. I.HATE.IT. My old job was okay - well, except for the evil co-worker and my flatulent slob of a boss. I'm going to miss blogging at work. I'm going to miss doing homework at work. I'm going to miss having my not-evil-co-worker braid my hair while we enjoy our morning coffees. I'm going to miss knowing my job requirements so fucking well that I could (and often did) do them in my sleep. I'm going to miss knowing so much about what I do that no one could possibly think they could tell me how to do my job.

In precisely right-after-this-next-cup-of-coffee, I'm going to be heading down the road to become the newbie. The new, green, un-skilled, un-trained, bottom of the totem pole kid on the block.

Why did I quit my job again?

Oh fuck. Wish me luck.

Sleep? We don't need no stinkin' sleep...

So I've got this problem, see... not many people know this, but occassionally, for no apparant reason, I'm struck with a mild case of insomnia. It's mild in the sense that it hits only occassionally, and it's only MILD ENOUGH TO KEEP MY FUCKING ASS AWAKE.

Why is it that the weight of the world decides to rest itself on my weary shoulders, right as my head hits the goose-down? WHY???

This week should prove to be something of a challenge, and I need my FUCKING SLEEP.

Interestingly, cursing at the blogosphere does NOT in help.

This week I:

Send off my first contract - yes, finally, I've sold a song. Well, "sold" is a relative term. Let's say this; some company is interested in obtaining the rights to my song to maybe sell it - maybe. You know what? I don't give a shit. Sell it - loan it - roll it and smoke it. I recorded this project four years ago and those songs have been gathering dust while my producer watches Oprah. I suppose though, the anticipation of what this might mean has me awake.

Then again, I start my new job on Thursday. I've worked in the same joint for 3 years, but I've worked in the school systems for 9 years. I'm out. I'm done. I'm sick of abstinence-only education and teachers who don't teach because they have to drill kids to take stupid fucking tests. Where was I? Oh yeah - new job. Shit. New. Job.

Well, it's any wonder I'm blogging at 3am.

Here's a picture of Kati. Mama likes her some photoshop. I'm going back to bed. Wish me luck, and wake me up before you go-go.

Saying Goodbye to Kati, and Hello to Old and New Friends

After an incredible morning, I said good-bye to Kati. I truly hope this isn't the last I'll see of her.


Garrison and I headed down to Bloomington to have lunch at the Trojan Horse - the most fabu Greek restaurant I know of. Cheese'parer...mmmm... But it wasn't the food that led me there; rather, it was the opportunity to meet a new friend and fellow blogger, Mamacita of Scheiss Weekly. Joining us would be my old friend, Scott of The Other Side of Straight (formally known as The Once Exciting Now Boring Life of Me). I fully intended on shooting tons of pictures to share with you, but as Garrison and I reached Bloomington, the heavens opened up and rained down upon us with a vengeance. It's quite possible God was none-to-happy with the cemetary shots, but I really think that when Kati straddled Old Man Thompson, he wasn't minding in the least.


So we trekked through puddles (with cameras in safe, DRY cars) and arrived at the pub and hugged and coo'd and oo'd with our old and new friends. I honestly wish we could have stayed forever, but after several hours of stories and conversation, we had to be on our way. I was so thrilled to finally meet Mamacita in person - she is just about the loveliest, sweetest individual you could hope to find in Bumfucked, Indiana. I truly look forward to meeting her again soon! Saying goodbye to Garrison was not fun - but I think we'll be seeing each other again soon.

Photo courtesy of Scotty at The Other Side of Straight
I have no idea how Scotty's camera added 500lbs to my frame, but left Mamacita and Garrison looking as gorgeous as they are in real life.

After lunch, Scott and I hung out like old times. We shopped, we drank wine, and we talked smack about everyone we know. His girls were there for a bit, and oh my god have they grown into fantastic kids! JP, Scott's partner, showed up after the party was long started, and joined in the rant. 'Round about 1am I had to call it a night, as I had an early flight and JP and Scott were bickering like a couple of old married men, trying desperately to get FunkyB to take sides. FunkyB will do no such thing, but she thanks the boys for their hospitality and friendship.
My only regret of the weekend is due to crossed wires. I was supposed to see my friend Jodi (doesn't blog! The shock!) but she thought I was due in town the following weekend, so I never heard from her or hooked up with her. That is tre' sad, as she is MY GIRL and I was looking forward to shooting the breeze/shit with her a'la old times!

And that, friends, is my five part weekend in review. Regularly scheduled ranting/bitching will resume next week. Have yourselves a fabu weekend!


Oh yeah - you like that sig? You head over to Lu's News and commission her to hook you up! She is one talented gal - no doubt about it. Get in on the ground floor before she's booked through next year!

The Things a Girl Will Do for Garrison

After Kati's second shoot, the strange onlooker approached us once again. He made some obligatory remarks aimed at Garrison regarding his camera, then he turns to Kati and says, "You look like a model."Um, yeah. That's what I was thinking. Kati's ever-so-gracious response was, "Well, he's taking pictures." With that, we retreated to the parking lot so that Kati could change for her last set of the day. Mr. Onlooker (obviously not well-versed in taking a hint) follows us and proceeds to wait in his van (yes, he drove a van...what a shock). This forces Kati to climb into her car in the hopes that Mr. Onlooker will assume we are leaving. Did I mention she's smart? It worked, and it was on to the next set, clad only in a full-length leather coat and those kick-ass boots. My first thoughts were to continue observing and stay out of G's way, but when I saw her hair against those ropes, well...

I fired a few from a distance, and then...well...You may recall from an early post that I've prescribed near saint-hood status to Garrison Steele. Quite possibly, his kind and generous spirit would drive a girl to do just about anything to make him smile. In reality, I have personally witnessed the lengths, and heights, a girl will go to in order to please this Marquis de Sade:
This little Igor is quite grateful the master has such a big whip. (Oh shit - that didn't come out right, but it was funny as HELL!) At any rate, Igor-bug is ever so grateful to the fabulous Garrison Steele for letting her share in his visionary talents.

As if this experience weren't enough, it wasn't long before we were off to Bloomington for lunch with Mamacita and Scotty...but more on that tomorrow!

Enough Kati?

Na...me neither.

So where were we before my ADD/OCD kicked in? Oh right...ass-crack of dawn.

I didn't mention that I agreed to meet G in the lobby of my hotel at 5am. I placed my wake-up call, then set the alarm for back-up. At precisely 4:47am, I wake to the sound of none of those things. It was, instead, G calling my cell phone to let me know he was a tad early. This disclaimer is offered, due to the condition of my appearance in the following photo (and yes, over-sleeping DOES make my ass look fat).

Aside from my aforementioned flash failure, my wide angle lens turned out NOT to "fit most cameras" and I was forced to work with a kit lense and a standard zoom. GRRRREat. Nervous as a cat, I set out to at least LOOK like I SORT of knew what I was doing. If you've ever checked out my flicker stuff, you know that the things I shoot stand still. Real still. For a real long time. Kati does NOT, in fact, stand still. My first thoughts were, "Jesus God in Heaven, please let the time go quickly."



















It did.

Unfortunately.










Before long, I had some 70 shots and the sun was fighting us fast. With narry a moment to spare, we sped off to a playground for Kati's next set. She whipped on a very very mini-skirt with a black corset and a long blue duster. To top the look, she zipped herself into some knee-high leather boots. I chose to sit this one out in order to watch G work. I wasn't the only clown in the circus that morning; a middle-aged man studied Kati for several minutes as she negotiated some playground equipment in the most erotic of manners. Our on-looker approaches me from the other side of the fence and asks...
"Senior portraits?"


(c. Garrison Steele)

No, I am not shitting you. Stunned, I shook my head from side to side. A few seconds passed, and I turned to him and said, "Sir, if you know of a high school nearby that would allow senior portraits of this manner, could you please give us directions?" With that, he beat a hasty retreat. He will return again in a few minutes, but we'll save that for tomorrow's shots/tomorrow's post.

The Weekend Review (and yes, more Kati) - Part 1

How much mileage can one crack photographer get with one little ol' Hoosier?


Jesus, yes. That much mileage.

Friday hit like a ton of bricks. Smart people pick out their clothing early, and they make sure their camera equipment is fully functional. Funky Bugs find out their flash doesn't work about four hours before their flight leaves. After rushing like a mad bitch, I dropped down some cash on a new flash and made the flight. We pick up a clunker, er, rental and drive 90 minutes north from Louisville to Bedford, IN. I park the kids at their dad's and hit the road for another 90 minute drive to Indy to meet Garrison, my mentor for Saturday morning's shoot. Halfway there I slowly begin to realize I have ZERO idea where my hotel is. Here's how the blogosphere works; Garrison actually drives to Indy and scouts out my hotel for me! I meet him in the lobby, hug him furiously, then we head to dinner. After dinner we head over to Howl at the Moon, a dueling piano/sing-a-long bar. I won't say the night was a disaster - far from it, as G is about the nicest, most interesting person I've met in a looooooooong long time. The bar, however, was fairly sorry. Imagine your typical college meat market, with really really really bad live music. Now, multiply that by, oh, 10,000 and you have Howl at the Moon. Can you believe it was STILL fun?!?!? G just made it that way. 'Round 'bout midnight, G walks me back to the hotel and offers to meet me at the crack ass of dawn so I don't get lost on my way to the shoot. We make it with time to stop for a (much needed) cup of coffee on the way. Kati arrives shortly thereafter, and by 6am, I've got my camera aimed at a real model. Both G and Kati made it effortless...well, actually, my first 20 shots suck ASS, but then they get better. I think. Well, see for yourself:

There's more to the story, and a hell of a lot more Kati, but my ADD/OCD is acting up, so I'll save the rest for another day.

A Little Bit of Kati...

...goes a long...


...long...


...way.


I'm dying to share more, but these things take time. Time is that thing I have very little of right now. Time is also that thing well spent this past weekend, and I'm looking forward to sharing that with you as well. In the meantime...

One of These Things is Not Like the Other

First, I want you to take a look at these:

































Now I need you to take a look at this: Really, you won't get this post at ALL if you don't follow the link. I'll wait.
Okay - fine, here's one for those of you that don't follow links OR directions:


Okay - my point? The first set is a recent shoot I was commissioned for. The second set is the fabulous Kati, represented and photographed by the uber-talented Garrison Steele.

Now - one of these things is not like the other. Can you tell me what's missing in my shot? (If you say "talent" I want you to think LESS CRITICALLY.) That's right: The fabulous Kati.

But not for long. The uber-talented Garrison has, for reasons I cannot fathom, taken it upon himself to mentor me as I progress from chick-with-a-camera, to artist. I sent Garrison my cemetary shots, and in exchange, he offered me constructive criticism and praise. Then he offered me Kati. Literally. Kati has agreed to pose for me as part of a teaching experience that Garrison has, without ever asking for compensation, graciously offered me when I go to Indiana this weekend.

Holy.Shit.

Stealing Access

Let's be brief, as what I'm doing is likely to upset my neighbors.

I am stealing someone's service. In the furthest corner of my property, I can pick up just the barest signal. As such, there will be no pictures. As such, though I miss you all dearly, I will not be able to visit your homes.

LoveBug promises me I will have my access when I return from Indiana on Sunday. I will make rounds then, as withdrawal is at an all time high.

I'll be flying to Indiana to see Scotty, Mamacita, and Garrison on Friday. I also hope to see my friend Jodi. If you're reading Jo, e-mail me about Saturday night! I'll check from work on Thursday. I hope.

When I return to the blogosphere on Monday, I'll tell you stories, share some very exciting news, and of course, offer pictoral accounts of my visit with old and new friends.

Involuntary Hiatus - Experiencing Technical Difficulties

I'm posting this from work - bad FunkyB! Well, it's not the first time I've posted from work, but seeing as I'm moving to a new place of employment in about a week, I'll probably be training for the remainder of my time.

This wouldn't be a problem if our DSL hadn't blown up on Sunday. LoveBug is in the process of working out the kinks, but as of this morning, I still don't have access to the network.

In a nutshell, I may be experiencing an involuntary hiatus this week. Please keep checking, if you'd be so kind. Also, contributions for my campaign are currently being accepted. Cyber donations may be left in the comment box below.

One final note: I went back to court today. We had a different judge, and he was awesome! It was totally Judge Judy comes to Polk County. My co-worker was issued her injunction, and the respondent (read, BITCH) was humiliated when she tried to argue with the judge's ruling. A good time was had by (almost) all!

I'm Starting to Feel Like the Prom Queen

Double-linkage is GOOD!

Through no effort of my own, I have been written about on two different blogs, just in the last 24 hours. Do you have ANY idea how good this is for my ego? Damn - I need to go buy a lottery ticket. Oh, your interview is below...just had to say thank you to:

Chase of My Father's Son & Scott of Purpletwinkie! Now, go read about how wonderful they think I am. Honest to God - maybe I should run for office or something. Is there a Mayor of Blogdom? Does she get free beer?

Interview with a Vamp - Part 5 of 5

No food or drink in the world is bad for you, gives you cancer or makes you gain weight. Give us an example of what a daily menu would be like in the Bug House?

Breakfast: Cheese
Lunch: Cheese
Supper: Cheese

What - that's not enough? Okay...

Breakfast: Cheese and ham omelet, with extra cheese, topped with cheese... a side of perfectly toasted bread with butter and strawberry preserves, and a big glass of cold milk to settle my stomach.
Lunch: Grilled cheese sandwich on Texas Toast with a side of pickles. I'm not eating the pickles, but the juice left behind is sopping into the corner of my bread...a side of cheese sticks with creamy ranch dressing.
Dinner: Tomato Caprese (beef-steak tomatos with buffalo mozzerella) drizzled with real balsamic vinegar, homemade lasagna with LOTS of fine Italian cheeses, and a luscious red velvet cake with homemade sour cream icing for dessert.
Snack: Tuscany Cheeses with a well-aged Chianti.

Or should I have just stuck with "cheese"? Dammit - this question made me hungry! Amy, thanks for the blogging material! You rock - did you miss your calling?

It's been a whirlwind week for FunkyB - finals are over, 4.0 remains intact, and a new job awaits. I can't begin to tell you what your finger crossing, encouraging e-mails, and general support/cheerleading have meant to me. That virtual strangers would send me prayers, positive energy, and happy thoughts is beyond my comprehension. I am humbly grateful.

Y'all have the most fantabulous, food-filled weekend now, ya' hear?

Interview with a Vamp - Part 4

4. What is your strongest childhood memory and how has it shaped the way you currently live your life?

I'm in second grade and my mom is serving as the assistant librarian at my elementary school. While I wait for her to finish her training, I wander the playground. Large oak trees take up residence in the far corner of the school's property, and it's here, surrounded by massive trunks, that my strongest childhood memory materializes.

Growing up the bastard child of a sailor, being raised by an abandoned and heartbroken woman and her new husband is something of challenge for a child. The history is spelled out in black and white, but the emotions attached to the story are really too mature, thus quite abstract for my adolescent mind to comprehend. Rather than wallow in the misfortune that was my birth, I romanticize the man I do not know. I imagine him sailing the high seas, dreaming of the daughter the never knew. I begin singing to him:

"Daddy where are you, I'm here where you left me
I'm not so far away that you couldn't come home.
Daddy you love me, I know that you want me
I'm pretty and smart and I'm waiting for you."

I'm singing those lyrics over and over, wrapping my toothpick arms around the trunks of a surrogate oak. I'm dancing steps I imagine a ballerina would envy, twirling euphoric as the sun moves behind storm clouds.

Though my daddy did not come to me, the realization that a child's love is so pure and strong that she can love a parent she's never met has shaped the way I view not only my childrens' relationship with my ex-husband, but my relationship with children. Further, by accepting at a very young age that it is NOT okay for a parent to abandon their child, that it is NOT a pain that a person ever outgrows, and that in spite of never having met him I love my dad, I am able to live each day without him, as a whole person. The child inside me still sings to her daddy, but the grown woman encompassing her can harmonize and kiss away her pain.

Tomorrow's (Last) Question: No food or drink in the world is bad for you, gives you cancer or makes you gain weight. Give us an example of what a daily menu would be like in the Bug House.

Oh HELL yeah!

I GOT THE FUCKING JOB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

*edited to say...

Fuck ME! This day just keeps getting better! I just got my grades back - aced both finals and my 4.0 is intact! Goddamn... I hereby declare August 10th as national Robin Fucking Rocks Day.

okay - now go read today's post...

Interview with a Vamp - Part 3

If you had to choose between a live-in housekeeper, a full-time chef, or a personal trainer, which would you choose.

I've chosen to answer this question pictorally.

My house (during finals week):























































My Food Supplies (during finals week):
























My fat ass (pretty much all the time):































Obviously, all services are needed here at Bug Manor. However, since I have a penchant for designer purses, my funds limit me to one slave, er, persona de servicio. If I hire a full-time chef, I'm only going to need the trainer all that much more. So, I've opted for a live-in housekeeper. After combing through Craig's List, I've chosen this man to service me, er, my household:



Antonio de Medici - my live-in housekeeper.

Being that there are no extra bedrooms, I've graciously allowed Antonio to share my bedroom. It's not as crowded as it seems - you see, my husband travels weekly for his job and is out of town at least two nights a week. So while Antonio must sleep at the foot of my bed most of the time, he will have the luxury of downquilting at least part of the time. Antonio, deaf since birth, is immune to my snoring. Also, being slightly near-sighted, he is unable to appreciate the fullness of my person, and thus thinks I am his patroness-goddess. I realize that Antonio has his work cut out for him, and will have to work many long hours toiling and sweating to restore Casa de Destructo to it's full glory. As a courtesy, I've selected a uniform that is both functional and practical for the task:


Tomorrow's Question: 4. What is your strongest childhood memory and how has it shaped the way you currently live your life?