The Weekend ~ 9/6/13 ~Kartoffelkopf

141997-crazy-heelsDIY Heels; High Fashion or Mr. Potato Head? by Isreali Designer Sharon Golan

My Friday posts are turning into a mix of randomness from my week. Last night I attended the NYFA Fashion Show at SAM inspired by the exhibit Future Beauty: 30 Years of Japanese Fashion. It was incredible. Unfortunately you’ll need to take my word for it. I left my camera at home. Then to make matters worse was far too busy actually talking with friends and either starring dumbstruck or mercilessly critiquing the Japanese fashion exhibited.  Even if you don’t like the designs their technical mastery is genius.

After roaming the exhibit we finally made our way to the stairway/runway in the grand hall for the show. But due to our socializing dilly dallying I didn’t get quite close enough to capture unobstructed shots of the show. Fear not! Soon enough I am sure images will be flooding cyberspace.

Now as you may know if you read my blog I am a lover of all things Yiddish. So this week while attempting to figure out how to say Happy Birthday in Yiddish to the founder of the Friday Fictioneers, Rochelle, I came across this article-The Joys of Yiddish by Marnie Winston-macauley. You must read it. It’s Friggin Hilarious! Not only does she capture Yiddish as a language but the artful nuances of communication. Tfu, tfu, tfu!

Which is an odd segue way to the fact that I’ve never read anything by Tom Robbins before (Just go with it). As a Seattleite this is quite sad really. Lately I’ve found him floating in my space through various avenues. First via a quote shared with me where Tom described the PNW as being played in a minor key. Which led me to read a few excerpts of an interview of him in the Seattle Times and the following tidbit by Tom regarding marriage:

“Thanks for the note. What’s the key?” “The key to your heart,” she said. Oh. Well, want to get together some time? Sure, how about Saturday? We agreed she’d come up to visit me because I was still feeling much too independent and cocky to go down there. But there must have been something going on with me because when I called the Black Swan to book a table I asked the proprietor to order in a bottle of Roederer Cristal, so I can’t claim to have been entirely oblivious.

Next morning over a truck-stop breakfast of biscuits and gravy and long-neck Buds she mentioned that she’d been psychic since adolescence and that she made her living reading the Tarot. So I said, “You should read the cards for me sometime,” and she looked at me with these green wolf eyes and said, “I already did.” And I said, Oh reaaally, what did they say? And she said, “Well, essentially, they said you were going to lose your heart.” And I, still cocky, said, “To whom?” And she just looked at me and shook her head, like “You Kartoffelkopf, you just don’t get it, do you?” And I didn’t. But I soon did. January 17. We’ll have been together 13 years and three months on Monday.

Kartoffelkopf? What in the world? Not Yiddish but close-German, I immediately looked it up.

It is now the official word of the week.

Kartoffelkopf or Potato head!

Where does all this mishegas brings us? Full circle back to the beginning of my post and the fact that this Potato Head forgot to bring her camera to the show last night. So-Til Monday!

Blast from This Blogs Past


The Weekend Reading List


Something Extra