beyond the pale

Stage and film actress. Starred in Paramount Studios first talkie with William Powell. I just love her whole bohemian femme fatale look.

Why won’t my hair do that?

Wee pity party below.

Eh, whatevs.

1) The man who owns the business My Beloved runs is a liar and a cheat and a pig and a “Christian.”

“But, Tracey, those sound an awful lot like opinions to me!”

To which I say, “Oh, no. NO. These are facts. Facky-fack-FACTS. Well, except for that last one — which I would say is more of a delusion, really. God only knows. I only know that his heavenly mansion had damn well better NOT be next to mine. And THAT’S a fact, Crackie.”

Anyway …..

2) Last fall, we fronted the business $25,000, using some equity in our home.

3) Liar-Cheater-Pig has accused MB of stealing from the business when any and all empirical evidence points to the EXACT opposite.

4) He has yet to pay us.

5) Our adjustable rate mortgage has now doubled.

6) Our formerly great credit is now in the toilet.

7) The dudes next door have had their townhome on the market since last November — for less than we owe on ours.

8) This does not help us.

9) Refinance guys just laugh and laugh at us — all while choking out their chorus of firm “no’s.”

10) The phone rings a lot from people wanting money we don’t have.

11) Liar-Cheater-Pig took back the car the business had given us to use.

12) We have one car now. Oh, it’s in the shop.

13) Liar-Cheater-Pig laughed at the “please pay us now” letter we sent him.

14) He is threatening to shut down the business entirely.

15) We HAVE talked to a lawyer.

16) We don’t want to — but might have to — go to court.

17) Or lose everything.

18) Or both.

19) The Beanhouse has just been sold.

20) And I may or may not have a job, however meager that job may be.

21) Honestly, I just want to box everything up.

22) Throw the keys in the house.

23) Stuff ourselves in our car.

24) And run, run, run, RUN AWAY.

25) We’re just too tired and it’s too much to even care about anymore …

So set up your guest rooms and balloon beds. Tracey and MB are comin’ fer a nice lonng visit! ‘Mmkay?

Upside for you: I make a nice cappuccino. Downside for you: What if the old saying is literally true and house guests really DO stink after 3 days???

Well, you can just stand there and let the train run you over OR you can jump on and enjoy the ride!!

The original Kramer?

Um, Dino? Honey? WHAT are you doing? You don’t want HER. LOOK at her giant, pill-shaped feet! She is obviously a freak. Take MEEE instead!!

The gorgeous silliness of the man

My relationship with one of my very best friends revolves around frozen yogurt.

You see, we have crazy, opposite schedules, so it’s hard for us to get together. Carving out time requires conscious, committed effort. So twice a month, for almost ten years now, we’ve had a date for frozen yogurt and hot coffee and catching up on every teeny little tidbit of our lives. Actually, now that I think of it, we’ve never had a meal together. We’ve never gone shopping together. We’ve never seen a movie together. Strange, I guess. But we just don’t do the usual things that most close girlfriends do. We meet for frozen yogurt. That’s what we do. That’s our ritual. Our thing. However simple. And I love frozen yogurt, but I almost never eat it apart from seeing my dear M. She, on the other hand — a creature of near-obsessive habit — eats it every day, stays as slim as she can be, and possesses what I can only imagine is the healthiest colon in the world.

Actually, I think I love frozen yogurt because I love M so much. It’s a hand-in-hand thing; frozen yogurt itself is intertwined with the sheer joy I have in knowing her. And over the years, she’s shared her yogurt knowledge, taught me many things: the joys of mixed toppings, of toppings on the side, of peanut butter yogurt mixed with anything, of vanilla yogurt melting in a cup of black coffee. So delicious. So good to know. But still, I have to say, after all this time, I merely dabble in yogurt. M, however, is a genuine connoisseur.

So in honor of M, true friend and yogurt freak, I’m posting some news about the latest yogurt craze:

It’s called Pinkberry. And M will love it.

Vanity Fair magazine fill us in:

Based in a closet-sized, pink-and-white space filled with Philippe Starck plastic furniture on Huntley Drive in West Hollywood, Pinkberry serves real semi-tart frozen yogurt in two flavors, Green Tea and Plain. It’s not sugary, or saccharine, or too chemical or too dairy. It’s healthy and good. And, because toppings are really the treat, you can order scoops of strawberries, mango, raspberries, pineapple, and banana. There’s also granola and walnuts. And for sugar lovers, there’s Cap’n Crunch, Oreos, and Cocoa and Fruity Pebbles. By next year, Pinkberry will be in more than 30 spots across the U.S. Lines are long, but it’s worth the wait.

Um, yumm. Join us for yogurt, anyone?

Update: Okay. I’m kinda proud of myself because I clicked around and figured out it was a browser problem and I FIXED IT! YAY!

All that to say: Freak out over. Thank you for playing.

Someone please HELP!!

I was uploading an image from my scanner to the blog. I “tested” it out by publishing it privately, so I can see what it looks like on the blog without it being public yet. So I clicked on the image and accidentally clicked something that said “block images from worship naked,” and now, NOW — I can’t make this image appear AND all my other images on the blog are gone from the page. They’re still THERE, I just don’t know how to make them visible again. I managed to block everything and I don’t know how to UNblock it!

Oh, and if you’re barely seeing this because it’s all BLACK and there’s no beautiful Rubens girl banner anymore, UM, I THINK I DID THAT!!

Can anyone PLEASE help a poor, pathetic, techno-challenged woman???

OH, THE SHAME!! LOOK AWAY!

BUT NOT BEFORE YOU HEEELLPPP MEEEEE!!!

Um, a meme I found somewhere.

Complete the Thought:

Never again in my life: will I chase after a mama moose and her baby like I did one time in Montana. I am NOT Timothy Treadwell! I swear ….

When I was five: Hedy Hanson was my very best friend.

High School was: very icky.

I will never forget: when my dad said this to me.

I once met: Mark Morris, darling of the modern dance world. He choreographed a show I did in Seattle. He drank beer while working, had a pudgy belly and frequent tantrums and called me “baby.” I kinda thought he was insufferable, frankly. Sorry, modern dance world.

There’s this girl I know who: won’t eat ANY food that is white and creamy. She freaked out when she started breastfeeding.

By noon I’m usually: hungry.

Last night I: made Parmesan cheese biscuits. I thought they turned out “eh.”

Next time I go to church: it won’t be at the church of the worst person I’ve
ever known.

What worries me most: too many things right now.

When I turn my head right, I see: my teeny-weeny patio.

When I turn my head left, I see: my fireplace. See it??

You know I’m lying when: lie? Why, I never lie.

If I was a character written by Shakespeare, I’d be: Hmm … maybe Beatrice. Should I be Rosalind? Oh, I don’t know!

By this time, next year: I’ll be a year older.

A better name for me would be: Whitey McPaleface.

I have a hard time understanding: anything with numbers, God, the interminable career of Pat Sajak.

If I ever go back to school I’ll: be elected Homecoming Queen in a landslide, I’m sure.

You know I like you if: I tease you. Or do the Stingo voice. Lord.

Darwin, Mozart, Slim Pickens & Geraldine Ferarro are: dead, dead, dead, alive. Um, right?

Take my advice, NEVER: do the Stingo voice.

My ideal breakfast is: crunchy bacon and scrambled eggs with cheese, pancakes, fruit. My usual breakfast is “nothing.”

A song I love, but do not have is: “Let’s Stay Together” by Al Green.

If you visit my hometown, I suggest: breakfast at Brockton Villa, overlooking La Jolla Cove. Scrumptious food, scrumptious view.

Why won’t anyone: buy me this???

If you spend the night at my house, DO: be prepared to sleep on the “balloon bed.” If it’s good enough for Piper, it’s good enough for you, Crackie.

I’d stop my wedding for: a cash refund to run off and elope instead.

The world could do without: Rosie O’Donnell and overrated Krispy Kreme donuts. She IS an overrated Krispy Kreme donut.

I’d rather lick the belly of a cockroach than: nothing! I cannot embrace this notion under any circumstances. Horror.

My favorite blonde is: that little niece of mine.

Paperclips are more useful than: that liquid paper stuff that works ONCE — and then the applicator gets all dried up and stuck inside.

San Diego means: Saint James. Also, “We are a corrupt Spanish-speaking city with no money and no cops and no border enforcement. Bienvenido a las terroristas! (Welcome, terrorists!)”

And by the way: you can embrace laziness and complete the thought on your own blog or in the comments, if you like.