Altered Suitcase

Dear Diary,

I think I'll pack my little suitcase and run away. Not far, and maybe for just a day or two. Just long enough to realize "There's no place like home."

I made this little suitcase for my youngest Sista, Sarah Ann. I got the idea from the first Haute Handbag magazine.

The scrabble pieces do spell out some family sentiment.

Most Sundays we would go for a family drive. First, my father would drive us out to the country to see Granny, then, after visiting her we would go for our drive. Before we even left the house my older sister would have fights with my parents because she wanted to wear blue jeans. They didn't want her to wear blue jeans when she visited Granny.

I often got car sick and had a deathly fear of getting lost. Most times we would get lost. My father would say, "We're lost," then I would start freaking out. I can't believe I really thought we were lost as in never going to find our way home lost. I guess he just meant that he didn't recognize the area. I'll have to ask him about that.

On one trip our baby sista was eating an orange in the back seat of the car. I think all four of us sista's were crammed in the backseat except maybe Janice. She liked to sit on the floor board. She never got car sick and once when we were kids she smoked an entire cigar and did not puke (but that is another story). Well, Sarah Ann started choking on that orange and we started laughing at her. We laughed so hard till we realized she was in distress! Luckily, she coughed up that orange. We still talk about that incident.

My husband and I love to go on Sunday drives but we don't do it much because the dog gets car sick and pukes plus the kids (ages 14 and 15) are whining and bitching constantly behind our heads. It takes some of the pleasure out of the drive.

I can understand now why my parents quit taking us on our Sunday Drives.

Graceful Aging

Dear Diary,

I laughed so hard reading Marsha of Tumble Fish's comments on my Altered Barbie Post. I never dreamed I'd have flabby arms, back boobs, gray hair, a mustache, and wrinkles like crevices on my face! But hey, I'm beautiful! The lady at the drive through window at Wendy's says I look like Elizabeth Taylor. (But I've never asked her at which age.)

Altered Barbie

Dear Diary,

This is my first rejection. I submitted this altered Barbie to the Art Doll Quarterly Altered Barbie Challenge. It hit me hard that it was sent back even though my sistas didn't like it and said she was creepy looking. They tell it like it is and I love them for it.

My friends at school and I were talking about when we were young we had one Barbie we played with. Girls now have so many Barbies. I counted my daughter's once and she had 60. (Shame on me) They were all undressed and had haircuts.

I don't remember when I got my Barbie but it must have been sometime in the sixties. Janice, my younger sista, got one just like it so it must have been on our Birthday because we have the same birthday, but different years. She came with three wigs and fabulous blue eye shadow. My Barbie had a full and exciting life as a world traveler, movie star, fashion designer, teacher, and mom. Although she was always barefoot, she often wore original designs made from Kleenex, tape, and sometimes fabric. She was so alluring and exotic!

My Barbie went to the attic and stayed in seclusion during the 1970's, 1980's and early 1990's. She returned to the public eye in 1996, when my daughter was three. Barbie was just getting her life back (wearing new clothes, traveling with the family) when the tragedy occurred. She was left outside overnight and mauled by our dog, Chuck. One half of her body was chewed beyond recognition. I was crushed and devastated! John, who was 13 at the time repaired her body with duct tape and shish kabob sticks. Her new look was "Exotic Bionic". But, sadly, her fashions didn't hang right on her new frame. I threw away her bionic body and tossed her head in my jewelry box.

When I read about the Barbie challenge, I got so excited. I love Barbie (She used to be one of my addictions but I've moved on). I thought about altering one of Elizabeth's Barbies but she had played beauty shop with them and I had my Barbie that really could use a comeback. I had some beautiful wood chairs in the garage that were not sturdy enough to sit in so I built her body out of one of the legs. She no longer had the hourglass figure. Her curves were now multiple and wide like mine. I gave her new arms. The new arms had belonged to Esmeralda's boyfriend, Phoebus, from the Hunchback of Notre Dame. They were large and flexible and strong enough to support a tea light. I like her rich and natural look and when I light the candle, the flicker gives her a mysterious glow. I keep her inside and up high so she will stay safe.

ADDICTIONS CONTINUED

I think I should have put as my #5 addiction:

Buying supplies that I might not ever use. Listing Skyy Vodka as an addiction is not quite true. It makes me sound too hard core. Don't get me wrong, I do enjoy my cocktail when I have it but if we are honestly listing addictions, I need to change that one. Plus I read other friends addictions and theirs are not crude.

Plus I forgot to tag five people so I am going to tag:

Leslie (Who replied on my Blog)

S. Belle (Who can reply on my blog)

Kim at http://pariscowgirl.blogspot.com/

Jennifer at http://jennifersviews.blogspot.com/

and

Judy at http://www.myartisticside.blogspot.com/

NAPS ARE GREAT, BUT NOT ONE OF MY ADDICTIONS

Dear Diary.

I've been Tagged!

Sweet Patty, a very talented artist and one of the designers at Mystic Paper tagged me to confess my addictions. She also gave me an award earlier on in my blogging and I need to post it but don't know how! I never get awards so I need to flaunt this one. (I'm usually first runner up! and can only assume the title should something dreadful happen to the winner......) Just kidding. I've never been in a pageant.

BUT, that reminds me of a story.

When I was a teenager in Columbus, Ms. in the 1970's, I answered the phone and this lady asked to speak to me. I answered, "This is She!" as I was taught, and then she proceeded to ask if I would like to be in the Miss Columbus Pageant. She said that someone had given her my name as a candidate. I remember saying, "Are you sure you mean me, because I have no special talent! Would you like to speak to my sister. She's home. " My older sister was home from college laying on the couch probably hung over or stoned. (Yes, The ex-champion swimmer!) Their conversation was a short one.


Red is a good Addiction Color

#1 CHOCOLATE

#2 COSTUME JEWELRY

#3 MY DOG, BUDDY

#4 FORTUNES FROM FORTUNE COOKIES

#5 SKYY VODKA


That about says it all..........

I Can Swim Like A FISH!

Dear Diary,

I found this picture of a mermaid doll I made of my older sista (I have 3 sisters and we like to call each other Sista.) She was a champion swimmer! In high school she was on the swim team. She always had a great tan and was real cool. She held some state records in backstroke and maybe something else. (I'll have to call her so I can write it down for posterity or maybe prosperity.)

I haven't sent her the doll yet. I added some stuff to it because I was told she needed some embellishment. Actually, I like her better with the tail with out the do-hickeys hanging on it because I love the different fabric and needle work but I guess some people prefer bling.

Haven't finished my other two sista's dolls. One is an accountant and the other is a mechanical engineer. I couldn't figure out how to dress them. I guess if I make them thin with big boobs that is the important thing. There were some fabulous sea, pearl, doo-das at merchants square that I purchased today. I think I'll make them mermaids too. I really need to finish these dolls and move on. I thought about transfering their faces to these cloth dolls with blonde hair and shiny clothes that I bought on sale at Walgreen's but that would make my sistas look cheap and slutty which actually might be fun!

Anything Goes!

Dear Diary,

I have not had the time or the inclination lately to ponder over our existence. I've been too busy to think about it lately. But one day I was looking at a picture of my niece, Abby and something deep inside me said - "I've seen this child as a grown woman, but how, when, and where?" Then this song popped into my head - "There's no business like show business!" and it hit me. If this isn't a case for reincarnation I don't know what is!