Hi, I'm Ricky Fitts. I just moved into the house next door.

Here's a little business tip:

If you're going to hound someone about something in the business world, and you see an email from them in your inbox, and you see their name in your voice mail list, do yourself and that person a favor and read the email and listen to the message. It never fails to amaze me how many business-type people never follow this simple rule.

Listening nowadays is a big, broad spectrum. It's not just the phone call. It's also the messages, emails, texts, etc. I'll admit that I'm completely guilty of working on my own schedule. It's my own private way of flipping off the establishment. (F-U, establishment! Suck on that!) Now I can't elaborate on that without sounding like (more of?) an asshole, but I think you know I mean. There's something about having someone flat out ignore my communication that just kills my soul a little. I love the connection happening between art and business. The interwebs, the logos, the big hooks, and the tiny details. But you slap too much business on it, and *pfft* it's suddenly annoying and meaningless.

And so here is my advice to you, you higher-ups, you hounders of hounds, you concerned non-listeners, you consultants and steppers-in:

Art is first and foremost for making beauty. You can use it to make money, too, but really it's about opening up something between people that you can't learn while you're out exercising your MBA. You can pat me on the head a little after your check clears, but please, pleeease, don't muss the hair.

** Ricky Fitts is from "American Beauty". **

Umbrella, please

When it rains, it certainly does pour. There are a bunch of extra things, big things, getting piled on top of what I thought would be a relatively stress-free last couple of weeks. I'm feeling frustrated, and trying not to over-stress, but I will admit it's difficult to stay focused and positive when everything seems to be pouring down upon my spinning little head.

It's not Bewitched!

All day long, my nose has been tingling. I took it upon myself to Google what this means. You know, how itchy palms mean you're giving or getting money, or ringing ears means someone is talking about you. From what various people's grandmas are saying on the interwebs, it means one of the following things: someone loves you, someone is thinking about you, you're really stressed, or you're really angry.

I won't tell you which one(s) apply to me right now. I'll spare you the details and leave you all with the super fun of guessing. Joy!

Warning!

I'm going to start changing the look of La Rivera. One day you might click here and wonder if you're in the correct place, and I just want you to know... yes. Yes you are.

Thrilling news, tonight I fell asleep at 8:20something. It's 1:30am now and I'm awake (duh) and about to enjoy what my dear friend Jen calls "brainfood". Mix and match fruits/veggies/cheeses/crackers/dips. Before I go and do that, I have to tell you what happened while I was out having all-you-can-eat crab legs last night with my other dear friend, Tammi. We were getting ready to use our Handi Wipes (because, let's face it, there are few things messier on the hands than two hours of non-stop crab rippin') and we started talking about getting ready to miss each other. I guess I started pouting a little, and then I guess my eyes began to well up, and Tammi leaned forward and said, "What the fuck are you doing? Are you crying?!" And I almost peed myself laughing, and I realize now that what I really heard her saying was, "Yep, I love you, too."

A message to the buyer

I'm not sure who picked up the tab for my drinks at the World Café Jugband show on Saturday. Whoever you are, mystery tab picker upper, I owe you one. No, wait. I owe you two. And I'd like to tell you three things: (1) thank you very much, (2) I left in a flurry of goodbyes and spaced out, and (3) I'd be happy to show my appreciation by mailing you some cash. Don't all answer at once, now. I'm not that rich.

Myew, myew!

Okay, so Livi has this little stuffed kitten that came with a doll Jen gave her. We've had the kitty for about four months, and just the other day she picked it up (pretty much the first attention she's paid to the toy), hugged it, and made a kitty cat noise. I swear my heart melted right inside my chest cavity.

Other cuteness -- thanks to Nico, Fraggle Rock shall henceforth be known as Fraggle Party.