Maaike's Needs

So, what you do is Google your name with "needs" (i.e. Maaike needs) then post the top ten. I had to Google, Yahoo, and Ask to get enough different ones, but you might have an easier time. The need comes first, and then my comments. Here goes:

Maaike Needs

1. Maaike needed work experience in something other than art. (I have work experience in other things, now what I need is a JOB!)

2. Maaike needs a home! (Do you have one for me?)

3. If you marry a Scotsman, Maaike, you’ll need to be the hunter/gatherer as well as the cook. (I'm game as long as he has that awesome accent!!)

4. Maaike doesn’t need much. (But I'd like a couple million dollars)

5. Maaike needs to adjust her image. (Or buy a mirror that lies)

6. Maaike needs to seek explanations. (Or do others need explanations from me?)

7. Maaike needs a hug (that came from my own blog!)

8. Other than that I’ve just been trying to stay on top of Maaike’s needs. (Who? No one's been helping me!)

9. Maaike needs very little intervention. (Oh boy did they get THAT wrong!)

10. To calculate your compatibility with Maaike you need to enter your birthday. (and your height and bank account balance.)

Old Ladies and Motorcycles

Another GREAT commercial. It's one of Kylie's favorites!

Life Is Just One Big Fish Slapping Dance

(click the title and it will take you to the Fish Slapping Dance)

I'm a nice person. I get that. I understand that. Am I inherently nice or do I force myself to be that way. I'm a Scorpio...you can imagine the inner conflict.

People assume I'm nice. That's what bothers me. Sure, I do stuff to help people--but I'm just like the rest of you, I only help people if they're people I want to help. Kylie or Daniel calls me with something, I'll be there in a flash. Some random person: I probably won't even answer the phone.

The problem is that no one will let me NOT be nice. "Oh, this girl has depression problems, Maaike understands, let's put them together in a group." "No one gets along with this guy because he's a butt-head, but Maaike's nice so let's put her with him." "She's really hard to get along with, but Maaike's so easy-going we'll just have them share an office." If these people had ASKED me first if I wanted to be put in these situations I'd have said NO! But when they just put me there, I rarely stand up for myself. Something has to push me to the edge. It's hardly fair.

I've been me for a very long time now. I've spent a lot of time "rescuing" the strays of society. Not because I felt obligated to do so, but because that's where I'm most comfortable. I'm weird. I'm naive. I'm damaged. That's where I live. I help people others don't even see.

My question is: When is someone going to RESCUE ME?!

That's why I feel like Life is just a big Fish Slapping Dance. I feel like I am constantly getting thrown into the filthy water where I find someone, pull them out, bring them up to the dry ground, where they thank me and then leave me to my Fate. And I get slapped again. Back into the water and the whole thing starts over again.

I'm tired of being Strong. I'm tired of putting on a brave face. I'm tired of HELPING! I want to be HELPED! When will someone recognize that all of this takes a LOT of work on my part! My soul cries out with all its hurt and longing and desires and all that it gets is people who need me to be strong!

Maybe that's why I identify to quickly with Elanor in "Sense and Sensibility" when Marianne says, "Always acceptance and resignation...where is your heart?" and Elanor finally lets loose with the pain inside of her. Of course I have to keep it all in: first of all because I feel that there are too many people who NEED me to be the strong one and secondly in my whole life I have discovered that NO ONE will come to my rescue. NO ONE.

Okay. I'm going to sleep now. I just needed to rant a bit. Maybe instead I'll watch another movie where things blow up. I'm in the mood for a good explosion.

Quick! Think of a Lie!... Do You Want Bagels for Breakfast?

Today was my birthday. It was AWESOME! Mom sang Happy Birthday to me, so did Kylie and Ted...and my sister. And others, too. I woke up to birthday greetings in my email box from David A., Jolene, Eric, and Aleksander. Later on I received email greetings from Serena, Al, Ryan, Jana, and Daniel M. I got a card from Brian and Michelle. Phone calls from Christina, Erin, and Chris. While working at the WomensWorks Art booth Ginger, Missy and Sally all wished me a happy birthday, followed also by Emily and Cindy! (Sally also wished me Happy Birthday every time she ran into me that day!)

Kylie sat with me at the booth for the beginning of the day. (She gave me a handmade bag with monkeys on it...and a Pirate Monkey!) Daniel M. sat with me at the end of the day. (He gave me a Sock Monkey comic and a Woodsy Owl t-shirt!) Emily and Cindy came to take over the booth for me so that Kylie, Teddy , Daniel and I could go out to Chinese food--where we all got lame fortune cookies.

We went back to my house and had some cake that Kylie made and I tried to think of a wish. But every time I try to think of a wish only two things go through my head, "I wish for love" and Dr. Suess's "I wish a fish." Instead I said, "May Fate be kind because she's going to do whatever she wants anyway."

Just after we'd finished our cake, Amanda, Kimberly and Ryan stopped by with cookies! OLE!

I also had about 13 birthday wishes on Facebook to reply to. So, all in all, I'd say it was a highly successful birthday!

Thank you everyone (especially Kylie and Daniel) for making this a GREAT day for me! I love you all!!

I Can Be Sad That A Mime Died

Kylie told me that if her name wasn't in the first two words of an entry in my blog she doesn't read them. Good thing I put her name first! Actually, I know she read them anyway.

I was talking to Kylie out in the hallway today while we ate our lunch. We were LAUGHING so much that the teacher had to close the door to the only classroom down that hall. I don't remember all that we laughed about because I didn't write it all down, but I have to say that laughing felt SO GOOD!

Yesterday was rough, crappy day. When I told her that this morning she said, "It's because you didn't see me."

"That's true," I said, "Because my happiness is in direct proportion to how much time I spend with you."

"I'm glad one of us can use big words," Kylie said, "'cuz mostly what I heard was, 'my happiness...blah, blah, blah...you. And I figured it just meant that you like me."

We were laughing so hard that Dr. Steckel said we were "out of control" which is ironic because this very afternoon Jeron also said, "you women are out of control". I suppose if I'm going to lose control there isn't any body I'd rather be with that Kylie.

The Search For Mr. Right Continues

As many of you are aware, my birthday is on November 9th. Many of you do not know that I will be 28 this year. Yes. 28. This is not where I planned to be on my 28th birthday, but, this is where I am.

So, this year, what I want, is an honest to goodness boyfriend birthday. You know, a phone call early in the morning, waking me up to a silly rendition of "Happy Birthday". He's planned the day...dinner, flowers, whatever. Just a day that he says, "I know how much you love your birthday so I've planned THIS!"

But the problem is that I don't have an honest to goodness boyfriend. There are 45 days until my birthday, so I thought I'd do some recruiting. Here are the things he MUST have:

Respect for me, Kindness, Gentleness, Intelligence, a Sense of Humor, and a variety of interests and talents.

Here are things he MUST NOT have:

any form of bigotry, a MAN-MAN sense of the world (caveman mentality perhaps), a mustache, and a fear of strong women (i.e. ME). He really shouldn't be a Republican because I've had too many clashes with them. We do not think at all alike.

I don't care about body type. I really don't. He should have dark hair (blonds need not apply) and I prefer with glasses...because I love how sexy men are with glasses on.

Now, don't worry. My birthday will be celebrated nonetheless, boyfriend or no, because I have Daniel--my friend-that's-a-boy--who has agreed to do my birthday for me. And he'll have Kylie's help of course. But, as it stands, you all still have 45 days.

Salt On My Plate & Stars On My Toes

You know when you've been a friend with someone, a really good friend, and you start thinking the same things and knowing the same jokes and all those shared experiences? Well, that's me and my friend Kylie.

For example:

Kylie and I were IMing during a game of literati as we often do. She said, "Weren't you going to come over today?" and I said, "Do you have fingernail polish remover?" and she answered, "Do you have salt on your plate?" to which I said, "HA!"

As an outsider, these things make no sense. But to Kylie and I, they are complete worlds within themselves.

Here's the translation:

"Weren't you going to come over today?"
What time are you coming?

"Do you have fingernail polish remover?"
I'll come right away! Do I need to pick up some fingernail polish remover or did you manage to purchase some since our last conversation.

"Do you have salt on your plate?"
Are you assuming that if I have fingernail polish remover that I will paint your toenails for you?

"HA!"
Yes of course, because I know how much you love me.

Does that help. Maybe not. But when I got to Kylie's she pampered me to pieces! She did a hand massage, and she made my hair all poofy with a head massage, and, of course, she did paint my toenails. They're silver, with little stars glued on the big toes.

With a friend like Kylie around, it's always best to just put the salt on your plate and give her a smile!

Apparently I Love to Cheer

Kylie is a hoot. You know that? I'm so damn lucky to have her as my friend! Today after my "imagination" class I was zipping up my backpack and realized that there was a zipper pull on a zipper that had previously been naked. I looked at it. It read: I (heart) 2 Cheer. HA! I knew immediately that it was from Kylie. (She used to be a cheerleader and I LOVE to tease her about it. In fact, once we were talking about it and I told her that I prefer to imagine her--instead of being a cheerleader--as spending those years in juvie.)

Kylie, just in case i haven't said it lately: I Love You!

Now, this is totally unrelated in subject...but it was the class I was in when I noticed the zipper pull and it's an important story.

My meditation studio (the one inside my head)...you get to it by opening a door, walking through a maze of shrubs--English garden type maze--and into an open space with a swingset, a bathtub on springs, a shed and a cabinet. It's cool, but never cold. It's fall there--since fall is my favorite season. I was wearing a wool cap, gloves, scarf and sweater, a tweed skirt with red tights and some red wellies. I wish I had red wellies. Maybe I'll buy me some. Anyway, our first task was to find our tool. I got my fanbrush out from under the bathtub where I'd hidden it and discovered through the use of it that I could paint fall. It was BEAUTIFUL. I could paint the leaves, and the branches. I could paint me and I could make little snowflakes fall. I even painted the clouds.

Next we had to find a different tool. I found a butterfly net, but I knew something was wrong with it. It was too powerful. I tapped it on the ground and out came this power that changed the sky. It was AMAZING how the sky looked and I stood in awe staring at it for the longest time. The instructions were to use this new tool for more and more intense purposes. Instead I stared at it, frozen by its power and my "unworthiness" to use it.

Suddenly I realized I was not alone in my studio. There was a man watching me. I don't know how he got in...no one is supposed to get into my studio unless I invite them. He was in total shadow so he appeared only as a silhouette. This little dog ran up to me and I decided to ignore the man. But he stood there, watching me. Finally the power of the tool I had frightened me too much and I had to break it over my knee. It shattered into dust and was completely gone.

The next step was that we were to find a third tool, one that would come to us in a surprising way. I found a little rubber snake under a pile of fall leaves. It didn't feel like my tool, but I picked it up and wondered what it was for. How was I supposed to use this? Then the little dog took it from me and ran to where the man was standing.

"You're just pretending." He said to me. "This is not you."

"This is me." I insisted.

"You're not happy." He said.

"Yes, I am."

"No. There's something you want," he said. "You want Love."

"I know!" I shouted and then realized that the tool I was searching for was my own voice. My voice allowing me to say the things that I hide deep inside under my "I have to do this all by myself" ness.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"I am Love." He said.

"Then LOVE!" the sound came out of me, from my toes, from my deepest spaces! I screamed! It was a primal scream that lasted from my first breath until my last. I screamed and screamed and screamed! The dog barked and the man...when I opened my eyes...was gone.

I don't know what this means about me. If you have any insight, whatever you think, I'd like to hear it. I don't know what this means. I'm terribly curious.

Sally and Jamie's class is amazing. I hope all of you get the chance to take it. The things I'm learning about me...even though they don't always make sense...are incredible.

Eating Lunch With Someone Else's Fork

Many of you know that I should not cook. One of the people who knows this is Kylie. That's why she cooks for me. Today she made me some soup. And some cookies. That I may or may not share. It depends. On my mood.

On Friday she made me lunch and brought it up to the language lab so we could eat lunch together. She said, "You have to meet Joyce." I was confused but I followed her anyway. At that point I realized that what she had actually said was "You have to make a choice." I chose spaghetti. Then she asked, "Did you bring a fork?" and I said that I hadn't. She warmed it up in the microwave, brought it to me, gave me a nice piece of bread and handed me a fork.

It was delicious. We sat there talking while the microwave was cooking Kylie's lunch. We chatted about this and that. Louis Perraud walked past and laughed at us...he calls us the "coffee clutch" as we sit there during the week to eat our lunches.

Kylie got her lunch from the microwave and started eating some bread. More talking. More laughing. Then I got to the part where I was just using the bread to eat the last of my spaghetti when Kylie asked, "Are you done with the fork?" I said that I was and she said, "So I can use it now?"

It was at that moment when I realized that Kylie had not been eating her pasta because she was waiting for the one and only fork! She'd asked me to bring one and I'd spaced it so she let me eat lunch first because there was only ONE FORK!

I laughed and handed the fork to Kylie and she ate her lunch.

My friend Kylie is the BEST. I love her SO MUCH...and apparently, she loves me too.

Thanks, Kylie! Bock! Bock!

Envelopes from the Royal Court of Lady 8891…

I wasn’t going to write about receiving a second envelope from someone…but I just have to. Kylie and Sally have both filled a second envelope and sent it on to me. I love these women! They so totally kick ass!

Also, my friend David A., a loyal blog reader, has asked where HIS envelope is. So, I’m sending out one to him. That will bring the total to 18 envelopes. That means as far as returns go I’m not even at the 50% mark. BUT as far as the contents of the envelopes go…I’m QUEEN OF THE POST OFFICE! Or, as one of the postal workers calls me, “Lady 8891.”

I must admit, saving little things here and there, thinking of putting them into an envelope, and sending them to one of my friends fills me with a childlike glee.

Glee. Yes. Glee. I’m as giddy as me!

An Enigma Wrapped in a Mystery Mailed in an Envelope!

Today I got envelope number four (of what is now seventeen)! This particular one didn’t have a return address so I’m going to attribute the envelope and all of its wonderful contents to Dave. There are a few hints inside of it that even the lowliest of CSI enthusiast would have to agree just lead to Dave. Or if not Dave himself then at least to the Eames-Harlan household.

I LOVE the little key chain dog whose motto is: Happiness is lying on the couch!

There was an item that caused somewhat of a ruckus. Inside the envelope was a gold scrap of paper that caused me to spend most of the morning singing, “I’ve got a golden ticket!” much to Kylie’s chagrin. (Poor girl puts up with so much!)

Thanks Dave! (Or whoever you are!)

An Evening Walk Fraught With Danger

My mom worries about me all of the time. But, she doesn’t know what I do half of the time so it saves her great worries. Besides, she doesn’t even need to worry at all due to the fact that Kylie has taken over as Maaike-Worry-Over-er.

For example, Kylie has me call her when I get to my destinations on long trips. Which makes sense; I consider it a simple courtesy and appreciate it when my friends do the same for me. She gets mad at me for not wearing my bike helmet and for driving in the middle of the street. Or when I talked to her on my cell phone while riding my bike, which was rather difficult to do, I might add.

She worries about me after dark.

This is where today’s story starts.

I told her that I wanted to go to the arboretum to get some leaves to press. It was about 7:30 in the middle of August. Summer. Right. It’s light for quite a long time. Anyway, she instructed me to stop playing literati, to go to the arboretum before it gets dark and to call her when I get back. She said to be careful of frat boys. I told her they wouldn’t be in the arboretum; they’d be in the bars (it was a Saturday night). I promised to be safe and not talk to strangers and tie my shoes and look both ways before I cross the street. All that stuff.

I entered the arboretum and was immediately greeted by TJ and Tennille Adams. They had been taking photos. Soon after that I saw a bunny. Then a couple holding hands. Then more bunnies. Then a family. And more bunnies. Then some blondes (that was probably the most unwelcome of my encounters). And, on the way out, more bunnies. Even a baby bunny. Cute as heck.

Leaves pressed, I returned home and when the door was safely locked behind me I gave Kylie a call. “Kylie, it was a trip fraught with danger. There were families and bunnies EVERYWHERE!”

She laughed.

I admit I love the fact that Kylie worries over me. It makes me feel loved and cared for.

I’ll just have to make sure to tell her and mom different things so they get an equal share of worry, but no one has to carry the full load.

Now I Don’t Have to Corral My Bazongas Into a Stupid Orange Haltertop!

This is a direct quote from Kylie—and a prefect way to introduce the second envelope that I have received from the sixteen I sent out!

In Kylie’s envelope there were a lot of cute little things and also a lot of esoteric stuff that would make her and me laugh like hyenas but just confused the bejeezus out of the rest of you. Like her having included four orange strips of paper with the following words written on them: Orange, Corral, Haltertop, & Bazongas.

I have also decided that I need to send out one more envelope…to Sally’s husband, Dave. I didn’t realize that he would have had so much fun with it, but I was wrong. And also dead curious as to what he’d send back!

So, thanks, Kylie! I look forward to filling that envelope and sending it back to you!

When Life Falls Apart...Lean on Humor and a Good Friend

maaiketd: You REALLY are a WONDERFUL FRIEND!!!

maaiketd: I just don’t want to kiss you!

maaiketd: HA!

Kylie: good, cuz I don't want to kiss you either, oh beautiful one

Kylie: but I do love you bunches!

maaiketd: hehehe! good. Right now the last thing to kiss my lips is JJ! I wasn't paying attention and SLURP! he got me!

Kylie: EEWWW!

maaiketd: yes! It was really gross!

maaiketd: other than that the last BOY to kiss my lips is Daniel in England...and he kissed me because he is my friend. So my last pseudo boyfriend kiss was in 1995! IS THAT THE SADEST THING EVER OR WHAT!!!!!!!!!

Kylie: no...sad for the SA's (stupid-asses) that don't know what they are missing

maaiketd: :D (super smiley face)

maaiketd: you always know just the right thing to say!

Kylie: i dod my best

maaiketd: you dod really good

Kylie: HA!

Kylie: what do you feel like doing tomorrow?

maaiketd: I feel like drinking large amounts of dr. pepper.

maaiketd: and using lip balm.

maaiketd: and saying the word "hottentot" a lot

Kylie: i like the "hottentot"

Kylie: so...

Kylie: let me rephrase my question

Kylie: what do you want to do with US tomorrow?

maaiketd: Can't we both say hottentot?

My BESTEST Friend!

Okay, so I was nervous about going to McCall. I really was. Going to a new place surrounded by people I don’t know, heading into a situation that I really don’t know what to expect. It was really overwhelming (since I’m a “freaker-outer”) and I kept almost talking myself out of going. But go I did.

Kylie gave me a bright yellow bag with a present for every day I would be gone. It was kind of like those count down calendars for Christmas, only it was a count down to when I got to come home. It was the BEST thing ever! The first day was a bag of garlic flavored bagel crisps (oh, how I love the crunching).

The presents are cute little things like stickers and pens, and some bigger things like a stuffed monkey and some monkey socks (I love the little monkeys!) Her presents have been lifesavers as I wake up and the thing I’m most excited about is to see what today’s present is.

One day I was sad that I didn’t have a present. Then I realized that I was a day behind and there WAS a present for me! HOORAY! In fact, it’s become such a big part of my day that when I pick up Rose in the mornings, she always asks me what my present of the day is.

Today was my one day off from my internship. Daniel came down to camp the night before and then hang out today. It was a lot of fun to see him! And he brought with him a BONUS present from Kylie! It was some more bagel crisps (mmm…more crunching is in store!), some poky, a “David & Goliath” bendy figure named Eve L., and the FUNNIEST homemade card! (It’d tell you what the card said, but it’s so full of esoteric stuff that it just wouldn’t be funny.)

Kylie, I don’t know what I did to deserve a wonderful friend like you, but I hope I keep doing it, because I love you! You’re the best friend ever!

Why Must I Make Such Dumb Mistakes?!

Okay, I do some dumb things. I really do…such as:

• Using Melaleuca Shampoo (it thinned out my hair)
• Moving to Kansas (Please don’t ask)
• Not giving Tarek a chance because of a crush on another boy.
• Watching “An Interview with a Vampire”
• Letting "Voldemort" charge things on my credit card.

But tonight…I did the dumbest thing ever. I flossed and brushed my teeth…THEN iced a cake! How dumb is that! I had to be very careful to get all the icing onto the cake, and the icing that ended up on my hands (I’m an artist, I’m used to getting my art all over myself) had to be wiped away. The spatula was used very carefully to get the icing onto the cake and then went into the sink. It was so sad. I debated driving it over to Daniel’s house to let him lick it off (of the spatula—Kylie, I can hear you) but I didn’t know how to hold a spatula and drive. That’s something I haven’t yet had any experience in. Why? Why must I be plagued by such dumb mistakes!

I’ve Always Said I Was A Slow Learner…

So today I figured out that the phrase “What are you doing?” should probably be followed by a socially stipulated response such as “nothing.” And not by the phrase, “I’m sitting here with one shoe on, one pant leg on, one shoe off and one pant leg off and shaving my leg.” This was followed by howls of laughter on the part of Kylie.

My only defense was, “At least I’m not making instant potatoes and putting them in the freezer.” Which was something I asked Kylie if it was kosher to do earlier today.

I think she keeps me around just to entertain her.

Poultry peer-pressure

Yes, that’s what happens when one gives in to being a chicken. Actually, it’s because Kylie was laughing at what I would give in on, and what I would not.

We play this game called 10,000 with six dice. It’s pretty fun and it’s a good way to pass the time. Well, Kylie can often get me to roll one more dice and risk it all. And I do, and I lose. But she knows that if she offers me a beer…I’ll say “no.”

We were trying to think of a word for the type of peer pressure that I give in to. Insignificant? Unimportant? Well, I decided to look for some help on a thesaurus.

I came across the world “paltry” but because I didn’t speak clearly Kylie thought I said, “poultry.” We giggled and figured that was exactly the type of peer-pressure I’d give in to!

Ed’s New Haircut

I’m a killer. I’ve killed before. I can’t say that I enjoy it…and the last four years have gone by without incident. But the plant that was residing happily inside of my Ed-the-Head pot is dead. I killed it. I think I over watered it. But it is dead.

Kylie gave me the plant on one of my birthdays. (I love my birthday! A week from today is my half-year birthday!) She called it my “good luck” plant because I’d need luck to keep it alive. It lived a good life. It was beautiful. And now it’s dead.

Well, since Ed-the-Head is often in charge of the apartment when I’m gone, I had to find a new plant for it. I went to the store. And wandered. Not so much an indoor plant selection as they’re making way for the gardeners and lawn-fixer-uppers. I was at a loss. I stepped out into the parking lot where fewer people could hear my stupid question. I dialed the phone and called my Mom.

“Mom, I know I’ve asked you this every summer, but does annual mean it comes up every year or that I have to plant it every year?”

With that question out of the way, and Mom giggling in my ear, I wandered into the plants. The walls were lined with choices. Some I knew. Most I did not. There was one I wanted to look at, but couldn’t go anywhere near it because there was a spider perched too near. Curse you, spider!

“Mom, there’s a spider in here.”

“It won’t hurt you.”

Silly Mom. She knows that spiders are out to get me.

“Mom what does it mean when it says ‘sun perennial’?”

“That means it needs a lot of sunshine. You want a shade one.”

Searching some more, avoiding the looks of those who despise us uninformed plant buyers and annoying cell-phone talkers…and of course the spiders and various random bugs that had taken up homes in their favorite plants. I picked up something that looked dainty and pretty.

“I found something called ‘Lamium.’ It looks like it has little purple flowers.”

“Well, since I can’t see it, it sounds good to me.”

Thanking my Mom for her patience and advice I proceeded to the cashier. I went home proudly with my new plant. Hooray! Ed-the-Head will be naked no more!

Then Daniel, (“Outstanding Junior” for his department in Horticulture) comes over, takes a look at my plant and says, “They use this mostly for ground cover.”

Well, I guess that means that Ed is destined to have a buzz cut … until I kill again!

Hi World…Meet Jack!

I was looking around my apartment thinking of my stuffed animals that surround me. Galloomph sits on a chair with his stuffed animal (who’s name I don’t know…Galoomph doesn’t talk). There’s Eddie-Phil (my teddy-bear with multiple personality disorder—who talks all the time) sitting on my bed.

There are my three art-piece women: Petey, Emily, and Natalie…(Full titles: Petey’s Body Issues, Emily Gets the Blues, and Natalie’s Weirder Qualities.) Persimmon, Jonty, Cheer Bear and a myriad of unnamed stuffed animals on my bookshelves. The string of dead things in the corner—“Unnamed Dead Things” –I think that title is going to come into play in my near future. Six unnamed monkeys…and Jaques-o-sock-o my French sock monkey.

My plant in the Alien head pot that sits on top of the fridge is named “Ed the Head.” He is often left in charge when I’m gone because he can see everything from up there. (I’m worried that the plant is on its last legs…if it dies, what will Kylie think of me!)

There’s my car named A.J. (short for “A.J. Crowley’s Burning Bentley”), my bike, Madeline, and we can’t forget my computer who’s named Chesterfield Snapdragon McFisticuffs.

And now, there’s Jack. My skateboard. His name is Jack because he has skeletons on his wheels. If you don’t get it…then you’ll have to just wonder. He has pink hardware, but he’s secure enough in his manhood to know that it doesn’t mean anything. He has Pig risers and ATM “Fast as Hell” bearings. He’s SWEET! Sure, he’s a hand-me-down from Mouse, but he’s sweet as hell. Actually, both Jack and Mouse are. (Sweet as hell, not hand-me-downs.)

So everyone, say hello to Jack! And when the other animals around me tell me their names, I’ll introduce to you them as well.