Ghost Blogger/Ghost Bride


ghost blog (goe-st bu-log) noun. 1. a misty substance where once before there had been a blog,  2. a blog written by a ghost, or undead being  3. any web blog which has dried up and ceased to produce substance or posts.  syn  ghost town; dead blog

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So, where have I been all these months? you may be asking yourself. ((shrugs)) Right  here, in front of my computer, not writing posts. When you have a blog and you don’t keep it up-to-date, because, ya know, your life is so gawdawful busy, well, that’s when you end up with a ‘ghost blog’. So in celebration of my newly found GHOST BLOG Status, I present to you Kelly McBride, a tiny dollhouse-scale miniature Ghost Bride.




So that’s what I’ve been doing :) Making arty things. Oh. And plus I went on vacation. Because I am infamous for my perfect timing, I flew into Palm Springs just in time for the record-setting heat wave that swept across the great western deserts.


There were plenty of palm trees. And lunch at the famous Riviera with a poolside view on the 4th of July.


The Riviera, Palm Springs CA



Not “me” in the photo!

 The Riviera Spa and Resort was the cool spot back in the day, where Hollywood celebrities came to see each other and be seen . Your Frank Sinatras, Bop Hope, Jack Benny, your Marilyn Monroes. Speaking of whom…there is a visiting giant sculpture in downtown Palm Springs of Marilyn. Here she is, with me all ant-sized beneath her:


My second day there, my friend arranged a group mani-pedi at a local spa. The owner made the mistake of offering our group wine or champagne. We took that to mean “open bar” and had glass after glass. After glass. I stepped outside, and it was so hot my eyelashes curled up into tiny ashes and died. It was 122 degrees in the desert that day!


Outside the Spa, 122 degrees

 But one of the guys with us had a pool. So we went over there for a swim. I brought along another bottle of champagne. They also had crispy white wine., a delicate Sauvignon Blanc, as I somewhat am able to recall… Drinking and swimming when it’s 122 degrees outside? spectacular!


I left just before the fires which headed toward Palm Springs a few days later. Home. Time to get back to work. More art dolls.

101_0542 101_0335 101_0158 101_0277 101_0236 101_0165 101_0114 101_0205


So that’s it. That’s my update. My post. Proof positive that I am alive. So I’ve just de-ghosted my ghost blog!!! And now I’m off for some more allergy testing. You know the kind, where they stick a hundred needles in your arm? Yeh. that.

And what have you all been up to? do tell…

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Categories: Ghostly Tales | Tags: , , , , , | 10 Comments

Why I Miss Having a Dog

Here’s why I miss having a dog. After watching this awesome clip – you’ll either want to adopt a dog, or a really egoless cop. 

If more cops wrote us poems, we wouldn’t mind the ticket part so much.

Categories: View Finder | 12 Comments

Revenge for When Your Doctor Calls In Sick

After teeth started falling out of my face at dinner last month, I thought it prudent to have my eyes checked. You may wonder what getting your eyes checked has to do with loose fake teeth. Well maybe it was the 18 minutes of digging though my dinner plate before finally excavating my fallen crown, buried deep below the gravy pond atop the mashed potatoes. Either/or, thus began a whirlwind of appointments with my economical, insurance-approved Eye Guy at the         

  Happy Eyeblawl and Hibachi Buffet Crinic…


Who is, incildentrary, waiting for me show up for much valrued applointment rlight now. But I am busy writing this post and can not be sure when I will become available for my appointment. My scheduled appointment.

You see, there is an unwritten, universal understanding amongst we patients that Doctors are not allowed to get sick. Ever. Thusly they are never allowed to ‘call in’ sick. They do not get to have a ‘family emergency’. Their grandmothers never die. Such excuses are our domain. They are doctors, for godsakes, and as such are held to the reasonable expectation that their superior physiology excludes them from weakness or illness of any stripe. And should tragedy strike, well – buck up, Doc. You can handle it. We’re counting on you! This deal with our Doctors is guaranteed never to be broken.

Until yesterday, that is.

I got THE Guy who bucked the system. The whole system. An Optometrical Anarchist. Just my ruck.

I show up for my 4th Eye Guy appt/meal at my local Happy Eye & Lucky Hibachi Crinic & Grill place. I wash my eyeballs extra carefully for the exam. One shouldn’t like to be embarrassed with a dirty eyeball under close scrutiny by an Eye Ball Professional. (This concern is second only to getting in a car crash with dirty underwear) 

There was a hellacious ice/rain/snow storm here on Wednesday. Naturally I wanted to stay inside and play with my new toys.  It was the day after Christmas, after all, and it was a blustery freeze out there and the roads were icy. But I risked those sub-arctic conditions to keep my day-after-Christmas eye doctor appointment.  I fight my way across the parking lot while gale force winds slap me back into my vehicle 5 or 6 times. My hair is blown straight upwards and freezes solid into a vertical condition. The cold draws the warm moisture out from my nose into a pair of fang-like snotsicles.  But I persist.


Once inside (after the wind-possessed door also bitchslaps me in the face a few times) the cute technician with the fuscia pink hair looks up at me with her pretty 20/20 vision-corrected eyes and lets out a tiny gasp.  “Oh, my…” she searches for her story… “I, uh…tried to contact you earlier today.”

“Really?” says I, “I didn’t hear my phone ring.” And I’m wondering if she tried to contact me telepathically or through the much quicker Snowman Express.


“Yes, but I couldn’t get in touch with you. You were the only one we were unable to contact.” She shuffles her scheduling papers about and in a flustered voice confesses, “The Doctor isn’t in. He had a…um…a uh. A Family Emergency.”

A Family Emergency? What kind of Family Emergency did my Eyeball Guy conveniently have – the day after Christmas – during an ice storm that I couldn’t have conjured up myself when calling in to cancel my appointment so I could stay home on my warm sofa playing with my new waffle iron instead of getting my eyes probed?

Did he get into a drunken brawl with that fat guy who crawled in through his chimney on Christmas Eve?

Did his wife stab him in the eye with the cheap zirconium ‘diamond’ ring he got her at Wal-Mart?

Did his daughter cook the new family kitten in her Easy Bake oven?

Did his son shoot himself in the eye with his new Acme Brand sub-assault rifle?

Did he get an especially cruel bout of really bad diarrhea, so bad that the hot melty chocolaty stuff ran down his leg and ruined his only work shoes?

Or maybe faulty Christmas Tree wiring burnt half his house to the ground? Couldn’t he have showered in the other half, and come to work anyways? I mean, we had an appointment. I showed up. Where were you?


I have no idea what that means. But I have always liked the idea of revenge.  So, beginning at about midnight, I began calling the crinic. Each hour upon the hour, I began leaving excited messages until the doors opened at 8:00 a.m. 

Midnight: Hello. It’s me. I’m just calling to check if the Doctor will be in tomorrow for our scheduled appointment at 4 O’clock. If not, could you have him drive by my place first and let me know why he can’t make it? You have my address.

1:00 AM : Hi. It’s me again. Say. Could you have the Doctor pick me up a pizza when he swings by? There’s a joint over in Philly I like…shouldn’t be more than like, an hour or so out of his way.

1:15 AM: I forgot to mention, I like Hawaiian Pizza. Get that.

1:17 AM: Hey, while he’s at it, have the Doctor pick me up some of them cheese-filled bread sticks too.

1:21 AM: Oops. I’m out of Tampons. Tell him to get me the Playtex ones. 

1:23 AM: They’re the Pink ones.

1:27 AM: Oh. I almost forgot. Menopause. Cancel the Tampons and bring me some Zanax instead. He is a real doctor, ain’t he? I mean, he can write prescriptions, right?

1:42 AM: Hey, listen. I was thinking. If he can’t write prescriptions he can just grab some Zanax from his own medicine cabinet. His wife won’t mind. She’s probably just been using it to put his toddlers to sleep anyway.

1:59 AM:  God. I’m bored.

2:03 AM: This is for the pretty technician with the pink hair. The one who forgot to call me yesterday to let me know the Doc had a “Family Emergency”. And then I got dressed and drove out into the middle of a dangerous blizzard to keep my eye appointment and my cars bald tires almost made me crash into a Mack truck… I might be a little late for my appointment later on today. Could you move some things around and keep things open for me to show up sometime between 4 and 8 PM? Thanks.

3:14 AM: Also, when he picks up my pizza, tell him to grab me a bottle of Root Beer, too. Thanks.

3:42 AM: I might be late for my Appointment. I can’t seem to get any sleep tonight. So just call me in the morning when you get these messages and we’ll see how I feel, and if I’m gonna make it in or whatever. It’s all up in the air at this point.

3:49 AM: But I still want my Hawaiian Pizza.

4:03 AM: ((sigh))

4:19 AM: Do you ever watch ‘It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia’? It was really funny tonight. The Gang found a baby in a dumpster. Then they tried to get it into showbiz. But they only wanted Hispanic babies so they took it to a tanning salon and tried to get it baked for a few minutes. Ya know, to darken it. LOL. So funny. You should really check it out sometime.

4:28 AM: Say, I was wondering, have you heard from the Doctor yet? Is he going to be in on time? I mean, he’s not having another one of those unfortunate Family Emergencies again, is he? I’ll just wait on the line until you pick up. I don’t want to set my alarm if he’s not going to show.

8:00 AM: Hi. I’m still holding on the other line, since 4:30 this morning. Can you pick up that line and answer my question, please? I don’t want to ask it twice.

8:01 AM: Yeh, hi. Did you know you kept me on hold for 3 ½ hours? I was calling from my cell phone and that used up a lot of my minutes. I’m going to have to send you a bill for that.

8:34 AM: Is the Doctor in yet?….whaddya mean he’s not in ’till 1:00 today? Say, can I have his personal cell phone number? I’d like to keep calling him, every hour on the hour, until he shows up for work….whaddya mean I can’t get his private number? You guys got mine! C’mon, man – fair is fair!… Oh, I see. I see….well, I have his name on this Appointment card, I’ll just phone him at home. Thanks.

8:47 AM: Hello, Doctor? Sorry to have to call you at home. This is that one patient nobody remembered to call yesterday. Did you get my messages about the pizza? What time will you be swinging by? Whaddya mean you ‘don’t do that’?  But why not?…..well, I tell ya what. I’ll check back in a few minutes, and see if you’ve changed your mind. In fact, I’ll just keep calling you, about every ten minutes. Until you change your mind. And remember, it’s Hawaiian Pizza from Reggies Pizza Box on 5th and Vine…yes, that is in Philadelphia. …OK then, I’ll check back in ten minutes and see how you’re coming along in your decision-making process.

9:00 AM: Hiya, Doc! It’s me again. Guess what? I found your home address in the phone book. How abouts I swing on by and spend some quality time with you and your family today? Listen, I am really good at helping people work through their problems. I specialize in “Emergencies”. My psychiatrist has told me this personally. He says, in a couple more years, I won’t even be experiencing homicidal tendencies any longer. So. See ya for lunch, eh?

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And so you see, my friends, Doctors are, like us, mere mortals. And if they should let you down, you should reach out to them, show them you care, and maybe show up at their front door, possibly in military fatigues and wearing an aluminum foil safety helmet while reciting your Manifesto on the upcoming Medical Armageddon. This will remind them to treat you, and all patients, with a deep, abiding respect.

   Happy New Year Everyone!


Categories: 4 LAFFS | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 10 Comments

The Undecided Single Woman Vote on Election Day 2012

“DO I VOTE This way, or That way?”

There are ten million more woman voters than men this year – but the “Undecided Single Female Vote” may well determine the outcome of todays Election. Being a single female who is on her way to the polls in a few minutes, and who is also still undecided, I thought I was probably maybe pretty much sorta qualified to speak for all undecided single woman voters across this great nation of ours. Oh, maybe not, I’m just not sure yet…

Will I vote for this guy     

Mitt Romneys Modern Military Model


Or will I vote for this guy ↓

It all comes down to the Unicorns.

If Mitt can promise me more unicorns in our Nations military, then I’m with him. You can never have too many unicorns in the service, I’ve always said. And as a responsible, single, Unicorn-loving American Woman, I think a politician ought to have a grasp on my unicorn needs.  If Obama is the guy with the hidden unicorn army, then dude – I’m voting for you!


It’s obvious, isn’t it? If you’ve watched the presidential debates like any intelligent, god-fearing, well-informed single woman should have, you will have learned one very alarming fact: according to President Obama, we have fewer horses and bayonets in our military service today than we did in the year 1917. Though this was the most shocking news of the entire campaign, I do credit Mitt Romney with pushing Obama to reveal this truth to the American People under pressure during the third and final debate. By turning over every top-secret stone in Washington and ferreting out hidden facts from the Pentagon, Governor Romney has brought to our female attention that we are less safe today than we were in 1917, because we have fewer ships in the US Navy. And then the whole horrifying admission by the president that the horses have been fired from the navy, and the soldiers have thrown their bayonets overboard – this one fact has kept me up at nights ever since. Here are the exact quotes from that debate, the very exchange that will be weighing on my mind as I blow dry my hair, apply my makeup and pick out the right outfit to wear to the polls today. And the shoes – MY GOD! – what shoes do I wear???

Governor Romney: “Our Navy is smaller now than at anytime since 1917″.

President Obama: “I think Governor Romney hasn’t spent enough time looking at how our Military works. You mentioned the Navy and that we have fewer ships than in 1916. Well, Governor, we also have fewer horses and bayonets. (OMG!) Because the nature of our military has changed, we now have these things called aircraft carriers where planes land on them. They have these ships that go underwater, nuclear submarines.”

Holy be-jeezus! We have ships that go underwater, you say, Mister Obama? When the hell did THAT happen? How do ships go under water, anyway? That’s amazing! But, uuuhhh… Where do they keep the unicorns? Won’t they drown underwater? This single undecided woman voter has a lot to digest before she goes to the polls to vote in a few minutes.

For those of you who somehow missed it, here’s what I’m talking about:

Pegasus – the new Submarine-Aircraft Carrier Calvary Sea-Horse

Boy O Boy, am I upset about the shrinking size of our navy, the lack of horses and the shortage of bayonets… That Obama has somehow merged the two into one new, genetically engineered beast, the horse with the bayonet sticking out of his head (or Unicorns), offers me some comfort. Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve loved unicorns. And also Pegasuses, the horses that fly →  

I bet they could land on an aircraft carrier, no problemo! Also, those flying monkeys from the Wizard of Oz. I’d like to see us enlist more of those in our Air Force. Also, I like the tiny hats:

  Well, whatever I decide by the time I get down to the polls, I know it will also be a vote of confidence in ALL women voters! I have dutifully done my homework, researched our candidates, delved into their hidden agendas and know that I, like all American Women Voters, will be making the responsible choice today. And I am proud of all of us for that opportunity. To show the world we can vote. And that WE CARE. We care about horses. The unicorns. And maybe those flying monkeys. ALL of them. May we all vote with our patriotic conscience today. I know I will.

Categories: 4 LAFFS | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 9 Comments

A Rainy, Gloomy, Happy Day

You…Complete me. NOW!

I don’t mind a rainy day.

Rain gives me an excuse to stay indoors, curl up on the sofa with a fuzzy, plush blanket, maybe a cuppa hot chocolate while watching old Mid-Century black and white TV sitcoms. I’m talkin’ Dennis the Menace, Hazel, Leave it to Beaver, and Father Knows Best. Late at night my favorite is the old Jack Benny Program. Because when I hear the pitter-patter of tiny raindrops on my roof top, I know this is a sign from God that it is my duty to be lazy.

The cold finally settled in here on the north-east coast. With the rain came the cold chill of autumn air, and the heater was turned on. The cold on the back of my neck while working on my art dolls encouraged the hunt for my ‘house scarf’, a wool/cotton short scarf just perfect for wrapping around your neck on these über cold nights.

A late summer harvest of autumny butternut squash in my much-ignored garden is another sign that its nesting time around here. I baked some up, added butter, salt and pepper, then surrendered to the pending cabin fever that winter around here promises. I don’t mind. There’s plenty to do. That’s one of the few perks of being a stay-at-home artist.

It was raining on Sunday when I woke and decided it was just the right mood and atmosphere for a visit to my favorite antique shop. I was in search of antique and vintage laces, trims and fabrics for making dolls clothes. I was not disappointed.

An Antique – possibly Victorian – Lace Collar

1920′s Lace Dress

Victorian Mourning Clothes

The search was on for moth-eaten remnants of Victorian Mourning clothes, such as these capes and gown, above. They didn’t have any spare parts available, but I asked that the dealers find me some. I wouldn’t want to deconstruct beautiful – and expensive! – dresses like these for doll clothes. The gown in the middle was $150.00, and the cape on the right was $120.00. But, they aren’t making these any more, so it is righteous pricing!

As I was leaving with a bag full of vintage laces and trims, about to step into my car, I was stricken by this horrible sight:

The Casket Morgue

- it appeared to be a cemetery for old caskets. Drawing closer, I noticed they were all composed of thick cement… But…why?

At first, I imagined there were dead people inside them. But upon reflection, I had to wonder… could these be casket molds? They were oddly arranged in this weedy lot, and spray painted gaudy golds, silver, copper and plain old black.


Well, between the mourning dresses and capes, the rain and the caskets, I felt sufficiently conditioned for some Halloween creating. So over the past couple days, I got to work on my latest little art doll, another creepy-cute little Ghost Bride. Here she is, without her white hair yet, or the gorgeous white silk wedding dress I am sewing for her.  

Isn’t she just hauntingly delicious? I’ve been up all night (too many rain-naps on the sofa yesterday) and I can’t wait to wake up and finish her. Hence, my happy –  though gloomy – day :)

How has everyone been? I just discovered how to read blogs again. By going into my email, which is used exclusively for this blogging account – everyone’s posts are right there, just waiting for me! So I will be visiting some of you soon.

Until then -


*NOTE: A LITTLE ONLINE RESEARCH SHED SOME LIGHT ON THOSE CEMENT CASKETS – they turn out to be Burial Vaults. Most cemeterys require something like this around coffins because it helps with ground settling, and keeps the earth level for the heavy machinery that passes over. Mystery solved!

Categories: Crafts, View Finder | Tags: , , , , , , | 17 Comments

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