In mathematics, my nose equals the uniqueness quantification. There is one and only one. That’s why I like schnozzles.  Unless you’re Heidi from the Hills, your button is probably pretty rare.  Do let your nose speak its own language.  Don’t pick or prod … in public.

mermaid1

drawing & story by Kira Zmuda

Moving beyond the world of beaks, I fancy a few other elements in life: imperfections, laughing, and playing with messy art supplies.  Really messy.  Combining all three is absolutely sublime.

Next time you complain about your frog legs, jiggly arms, frizzy mane, or big bootay, break out some crayons!  Take a few minutes out of your busy schedule (translation: 5 less minutes on Facebook), and create your own caricature.  Be brutal.  And be your best friend.

We all have an image of ourselves that we carry around.  It doesn’t mean it’s true.  I like to think that I have long mermaid waves.  Do I?  Sure, when I fry the hell out of my hair with my crimper on a rare occasion – like Cinco de Mayo.

I do not wear exotic flowers in my hair as I prance around the city, but I have always wanted to rock that look.  I’m searching for the right flower for my debut.

The curve of my mermaid hips erases all rigidness from my path.  Inflexibility – clear the way, fool.

Damn chicken legs.  I’ve been around them for a while so we’re no longer foes.  We’ve joined together amicably.  Sometimes, when I look in the mirror, I see the splitting image of a rooster – minus the wattle.  I’ll have that one day too.

Doodle.  Draw.  Paint.  Play with mud.  Create yourself.  Good and bad.  Embellished, grotesque, minimal, flamboyant, etc.  If you can’t laugh about yourself, then what the hell is wrong with you? (kindly asked)

I’ll post any of your lovely art.  I’d love to share so please send.

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Day 28 was a boisterous one – filled with my magical birthday boots (below), bubble blowing, bacon beer, and my new favorite spot: Barcade in Williamsburg, NYC. Who wouldn’t want to spend a day playing Gauntlet, Super Mario Bros, Frogger, and Tetris while burning through some high caliber Coney Island amber beer?

nice

I’ve almost graduated from my month long high-heel challenge, but for some reason, even on day 28, I did not feel close to the finale. Perhaps summer school is needed before I toss the graduation cap in the air and receive my stiletto.

I’ll be honest, I might need more time in this challenge because I cheated a little. It was a dark day in February. It snowed. My feet found their way into sneakers. It didn’t mean anything, I swear. Thankfully, my roommate called me out on my bad behavior, and I took off the running shoes immediately.

I suggest that you get a friend, foe, or family member to be your bully during the challenge. It helps. Believe me.

But it’s spring now, and my excuses are finito. I’ve grown surprisingly comfortable wearing any heel up to 2″ which is a huge improvement. Once I get above the 2″ mark, I’m still a bit skiddish.  I’ve completely worn out a few of my reliable work heels.  You can do a lot of damage in 28 days!

Let me be frank. I’m still figuring out what I want to accomplish with these extra inches. I don’t know exactly what I want to feel, but I’ve felt really comfortable recently – it’s odd how the confidence level seems to rise with the foot pain. I’m slightly concerned about long-term damage to my feet. For now, I’m okay. This show will continue.

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Me Pirate Has Stubble

March 3, 2009

legopirate21Humor changes with every person, every height, and every culture.

But come on mate, who does not chuckle when you wake up next to a Pirate?  A LEGO Pirate … with just the right splattering of stubble.  I have always been a fan of facial hair.

My squiffy pirate joined my life last Friday after a visit to F.A.O. Schwartz. I had wanted LEGO loot back in me life for a long time, and I finally bought the booty.

As soon as I got back to my ship slash apartment, I immediately dived into the bucket of adventure.

The creative juices were squirting all over the place, and I built my dream house with multiple floors and an ideal outdoor living space for Dandy Lions, millipedes, and sunlight.

Blimey! One block got loose, and half of me house crumbled to the floor. I tried not to get irritated, but at that point I went to the kitchen and poured a glass of spirits for me-self.

Building, building, stacking, building. Memories flowed. Back when I was a lass, I was in fact a LEGO Master.

Yo-ho-ho! The house crumbled again.  Another sip of spirits. Or two. Or three.

I had originally thought the night would be relaxing, but I was getting fussy. I mean – I remember my castles breaking here and there when I was a lass, but I did not remember such frustration.  Sitting on my bed, as an adult, I felt more immature and impatient than ever. I gave up on my dream house with my sexy pirate. I walked away.

An hour passed. I could not ignore the fact that me pirate needed a home. And I had an empty shelf waiting. The coffee mug was not suitable for any matey of mine. I strutted my sewall1a-legs back to my bucket of toys. And damnit, I built.

Look at the handsome home.

I do need ye to help me with a name for me stubbly mate. Does my pirate look like a Rufus or Billy? Suggestions welcome. Aye?

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