I recently watched When Harry Met Sally, for the hundredth time. Since then I keep thinking about the Wagon Wheel Coffee Table Scene. The way Harry says "Ira!" in turn makes me think of the way George Banks says "Me!" in the Superfluous Buns scene in Father of the Bride.

Below are each of the clips for you to enjoy. I've also included, at the bottom, one of my favorite movie scenes ever as an added bonus.

I don't have the internet at my apartment anymore. My neighbor let me borrow it all year, and he moved, so no more streaming television, no more wasting time on Facebook, and less ability to blog. I consider all these good things.












My home has been tidier and I've taken care of little projects that have been looming over my head for months. Confession: My bathroom lighting is really poor. Why? There is a fixture that I've never put a light bulb in. Last night I finally put one in. It took me eleven months. I don't know if, for a fact, this was taken care of because I now don't have the internet, but I'm going to connect the two. (By the way, when I say internet, I mostly mean Facebook)

It's really not that I'm lazy, but I will be the first to admit I am easily distracted. One of the things that distracts me the most is any type of screen- TVs, computers. I wrote about this before, that I don't have cable, etc. because I am cheap, but there's another reason. It's too easy for me to spend all my time in front of a TV or computer, and when it comes to doing a load of laundry that's been sitting there for weeks or watching the Modern Family, Modern Family will win every time. As a result, I will laugh for 30 minutes watching TV, but the pile of laundry will eat away at my soul day after day. It's not worth it.

For me, the internet is wonderful and alluring but so dangerous at the same time. It is to me what liquor is to an alcoholic, and in all its goodness, it has added much pathetic-ness to my life.

Would you like a glimpse into my pathetic-ness? Well, sometimes when I am out with people, having a good time, and the night is coming to an end, I have this little tugging desire to go home and check Facebook. Lame!

I don't have to explain why this is bothersome, but what is worse is that more times than not, all I end up doing is scrolling through pictures of people that make me feel unnecessary emotions- loneliness, dissatisfaction, jealousy...

I am reminded that underneath everyone's (/ my own) photos, status updates, and witty banter, there is a real, awkward, struggling, wonderful person underneath, and I'm too lazy and intimidated to call them.

The moral of this story is, I think I'll keep my apartment internet free, at least for now. A cleaner home, one where I take care of things, is more important than being "connected" all of the time. I'd like to be more present with people and quit wondering how many notifications I've racked up while I've been away from my computer. Again, lame!

Besides, I have internet at work and in my studio so I can get all of my stalking done during those hours anyway.

"So what does this mean for your blog?!" you worriedly ask.  It means I may not post every week. It also means the first draft of these expanded thoughts will most likely be hand written, then typed into Text Edit, and then copied and pasted here, which is cool because it will be closer to how I first began writing and just might make my writing better. But don't hold your breath.

This blog has had one public follower (or what I like to call, a member of the With Bear Hands Dream Team) since almost the beginning, and her name is Alice Mayo.

Alice, because of your public affection for me/this blog. I would like to give you something. What do you want? A mason jar?:






















a drawing of you and your pretty red hair, done in a similar manner as this?:






















 (note: I'll probably end up drawing you anyway, even if you don't ask me to)

I want to say thank you, so show me how.

As for the rest of you nice people lurking in the shadows, may this be incentive to check back here in the future. I'm up to my ears in artwork, and I may just use this blog as a means to play out a fleeting moment of generosity.

I've been having trouble writing recently. I keep starting posts and not finishing them. My words feel forced, and I can't find the right words to express anything.

During this mental block, here is a list of some things I wish that I had the eloquence to write about, to hopefully ignite a journalistic flame.

1. my most recent painting about a man and a woman and their similarities to Cyclops and Athena

2. how I am about to go part time at Knox Heritage starting next week and how this makes me anxious, nervous, and extremely excited

3. how I hope that more time to work on certain projects does not turn into me lazing about my apartment with Juicy

4. my recent infatuation with intelligent, kind, and respectable men rather than my former infatuation with... the opposite...

5. how surprising the depth of my sadness is that my neighbor Hunter and his dog have just moved

6. how tornadoes have got me thinking about my masked materialism

7. how my last trip to the mall was transformational, how it resulted in me going on a jog instead of drinking beer, and how I can't get my mind off a particular purple BCBG dress (bizarre)

8. how I really want shoes that are "architectural" (also bizarre)

9. wondering if one can be fashionable and not materialistic at the same time

10. the BS that is existentialism

11. moving to a bigger city

12. how another friend moving away has gotten me thinking about my past inability to be honest with others/myself, and my current gratefulness to be in a healthier emotional state

13. how the selling of my grandfather's lakehouse feels like him dying again and also like closing a door to my childhood

14. how wanting to lead a simpler life has me wondering what that means for all the boxes I've filled over the years with the intention to make scrapbooks

15. how trivia night might be the most productive way to drink beer

16. The lore of Juicy- how she came to me, why I love her, and why she makes me not want to have children

17. the intricacies of being friends with males (and by friends I mean just friends)

18. How the moving away of friends means the probability of new people to enter my life. I wonder who the lucky ones will be...

19. How I've been incessantly listening to dance music, the reasons and implications of this (listen at your own risk/don't judge me)

20. How, like John Mayer (who I used to make fun of my freshman year roommate for listening to, but now I admittedly really like), I desire for myself and the people I love to be able to say what's on our minds and in our hearts.

On that note that makes me feel a little vulnerable, here's to future eloquence.

I'm suing Fancy Feast for stealing my diary and making a commercial about my hopes and dreams.

I am slow when it comes to experiencing all things pop culture. The most probable explanation for this is that I am cheap. I don't like spending money going to movies nor on Netflix. I don't spend money on music but wait for people to make me mixes. (Pandora was made for people like me). I don't have cable and don't watch TV at home. I do watch Hulu, and am learning the wonders of The Modern Family (and Glee), so there's that. I could pirate things, I suppose, but I don't have the time or mental capacity to figure out how to break the law. All this is to say, I have always been and may always be a little pop-culturally stunted.

I've embraced this quality of mine, but I say it to explain why it took me four years to watch the pilot episode of Mad Men.

I was hanging out with my neighbor last Thursday, driving back to our apartment building after walking around downtown with his dog. He (my neighbor, not his dog) likes Mad Men and has told me I should watch it. So he says to me, "Beth, when we get home, we should drink Aniversario and watch Mad Men." (He is on an Aniversario Rum kick.)

I don't know why, but the way his words resonated in my ears, it was one of the best ideas I had heard in a while. It was beautiful out, so we sat out on our porch with a laptop, sipping rum out of Styrofoam cups.

I realize it would be lame to go into detail about the show because I know it's not novel to be obsessed with Mad Men, but I'll say this. I'm obsessed.

At first, though, it made me sad. The main character is a slutty married man when you get down to it, but I know there's more to it than that.

My thoughts on the show aren't riveting or new to anyone who's been watching it from the beginning, but... I'm drawn to how well they convey the complexity and depth of being human, showing how what one deals with on their own affects everyone around them. I also find it intriguing how they show the stress and struggle of Don Draper, a man who can get anything he wants, without him saying much. He is smart, alluring, and intoxicating. He's also unhappy.

And, it is visually stunning. Mmm, the colors.

I am three episodes in because there are only three episodes on the first DVD. A sad fact is that my neighbor is moving soon which means the rest of the DVDs will be moving with him. He told me I could and should watch all three seasons in two weeks, which I don't doubt I could, but I've decided against this. It would be better to spend our last days as neighbors sipping rum out of Styrofoam cups on our porch with his cute dog nearby than locking myself in my apartment and burning my eyes out trying to watch every episode. And I personally know my fair share of mad men. I can watch them to get my fix in the meantime.

With spring in the air and a lot of angst deep down, I am ready to make some new paintings.

I spent today rearranging and cleaning my studio after the tornado named March blew through. I am moving things out, too, to make some space, mostly for my head.

I am rearranging my schedule as well, in order to make more art, as soon as May. I am excited; I am scared, mostly of not knowing how long it will take until I grow tired of eating cereal two meals a day.

I'm anticipating something new and good.

Today I went to see a man about a barn.















Well, it's not technically a barn anymore. The tornado that plowed through Greenback, Tennessee a couple of weeks ago blew it down. My photojournalist friend Adam was out there taking photos, met the man who owns it, and told him he would tell me to contact him, which I did. 

It took the man about a week to call me back, but once he did, things moved quickly. Two days later, today, I went out to see him.

I posted on Facebook that I needed a friend to go with me on a salvage adventure, you know, so someone could protect me from rape and murder, JIC. Tracy decided to come along with me.

So this morning with Old City Java coffee (and their Lox bagel adorned with pesto cream cheese which is one of the best things I've ever eaten) in our bellies, we made the 45 minute drive to Greenback. After passing all of the over-development* that is Alcoa Highway and Maryville, the drive actually became very pretty. We passed farmland, barns, silos, and old farmhouses.

We finally arrived and there I met Bob. I introduced him to Tracy, and Bob said, "Tracy, I've seen you on TV." Cue Tracy's laugh.

Immediately following, Bob's cell phone started blowing up. Popular man. In the meantime I took some photos.





























Beauties lying in the sun















Where is the Metrognome? Why, he's in Greenback.

Bob asked if I was going to post the photos on Facebook to find a buyer, to which I replied, "You really know what's going on, Bob. Do you have a Facebook page?" to which he replied, "No, but all my friends do."

He is right. I will post them on Facebook and some other places. I don't know that much about barn wood, but I know that people are crazy for it and that I've been waiting for this moment for a while.

On the way back, I stopped to take some photos of the sites. I want to know what this yellow flowering plant is. Do you know?





























*The one good thing about the over-development. What a sign.
















When we passed by this van in a field, I said, "That reminds me of Napoleon Dynamite," to which Tracy replied, "How much you wanna make a bet I can throw a football over them mountains?"

I'd be willing to bet you could, Tracy.