Category Archives: Taxidermy is weird but so am I

IT’S HAPPENING. IT’S REALLY HAPPENING.

I got an email from editor saying “HAPPY PUB DAY!” and I was like, there’s a special day just for going to pubs?  My God, we released my book on exactly the right day, but then I realized “pub” was short for “published” and OMG ::KERMIT FLAIL:: Y’ALL, MY BOOK IS OUT TODAY.  Did you get it?  Did you read it?  Are you now running away because you realize I’m even crazier than I may have let on?

I stayed up late watching lovely people who were counting down the minutes until midnight when my book would show up on their reader and it seems surreal that after years of working on this it’s finally in your hands.  Thank you for making me write this.  Thank you for supporting me and passing on my work to others and for sharing and for helping me when I find myself stuck.  Thank you.

And tonight?  We party as if we all had ponies.  Tonight is our launch and instead of doing tv shows and fancy parties I’m staying home and broadcasting live from my house as I do a reading and a Q&A for you guys and I’m nervous as hell but also very excited because over 1000 of you have already RSVPed and that’s about 998 more people I’ve ever had at my house in real life.  To watch it just click here at 7pm central tonight.  You don’t have to have a camera or an account…just computer that can pick up a video feed.  With luck it’ll go well and not crash, but if it crashes just follow me on twitter and we’ll regroup.  You can chat in the hangout, I think, but it’ll probably be easier if you do it on twitter using the hashtag #FH so everyone can follow along.  Or just lurk.  Or come late and watch the recorded video and pretend it’s live.  Or skip it and go spelunking.  Whatever makes you (furiously) happy.

PS.  I just checked and my book is #3 on Amazon in biographies right now.  Yeehaw!  Number one is Mindy Kaling who is too adorable for me to stab so I can take her place, but number two is “Bill O’Reilly Killing Reagan“.  WTF?  I already didn’t like O’Reilly and now he’s killing Reagan and beating me in rankings?  This is why we can’t have nice things.

PPS.  Last night we did a test to see if I could make google hangouts work and I super fucked it up at first but then we got our shit together and giant thank yous go out to the hundreds of people who showed up to tell me what I was doing wrong and also to see my beaver.  If you want to see what you missed it’s recorded right here and if you click on “cc” for subtitles it becomes even more ridiculous.

See you at 7?  Yes?  Right here.

furiouslyhappypubday

 

I can’t tell if this happened because I have a medical issue or because I’m just really lazy.

Yesterday I went to pick up my meds and while I was there I handed the pharmacist my prescription for my ADD medication and she was like “Sorry, I can’t fill this one.  We can only fill prescriptions within 21 days of them being written” and I guess I can understand that but I’ve been walking around with this prescription for a month because I’m not really focused enough to remember to refill my meds if I’m out of my ADD meds and the pharmacist was like, “Yes, but you’ll still have to get a new one” and that sucks because first of all, the fact that I’m making my meds last long enough that my next prescription expired proves that I’m not abusing them or selling them on the street, so if anything I should be rewarded by getting more drugs.  Plus, now I have to make an appointment to see my shrink to get another prescription and I’ll have to tell her I kept getting too distracted to fill the prescription that I insisted that I needed because my ADD was making me too distracted.

But technically she already knows I’m irresponsible and have ADD so really it’ll probably just make her happier that she’s doing an excellent job diagnosing me.

Although she’s not really doing that great if she actually expected that I was going to fill my prescription myself within a normal time limit.  I suspect it’s a test and I failed it.  Or she did.  Maybe we did as a team.  I’m not good at evaluating right now because I’m low on ADD meds.

Someone please make an appointment for me with my shrink.  And remind me to get her to call in my meds this time.  And then take me to the pharmacist to get my meds before they call me with that ” YOUR PRESCRIPTION HAS BEEN READY FOR WEEKS AND IF YOU DON’T PICK IT UP SOON WE’LL RESTOCK IT.  YOU ARE WASTING OUR TIME” message.  And then bring me a cheesecake.  And take me to the post office.  And make me drink more water.

Jesus.  I need a babysitter.  For me.

I blame the meds.  Or lack thereof.

PS.  I don’t have a graphic to go with this post so instead I’ll show you the business cards I made for myself.

furiouslyhappycards2Please note that I forgot to put my name on them or a website or even what FURIOUSLY HAPPY is.  I think it’s pretty obvious I made them without the benefit of drugs.  Or possibly it seems more obvious that I am on drugs if I made business cards with Rory’s taxidermied raccoon face on them.  Depends on the kind of drugs, I guess.  But!  You can do this with them:

furiouslyhappycards3

They would come in much more handy if I ever left the house long enough to give out business cards, but at least I have some now, so…you know…baby steps.

 

Totes MaGoats

My friend Jeremy (Meddling with Nature) is full of awesome.  He’s a taxidermist/artist/prop maker who works with roadkill/animals who died of natural causes and who sends me wonderful emails that include lines like “Today my biggest challenge is making a zombie dog that can vomit a gallon of fake blood.”    He made me Rory (the ecstatic raccoon who is on the cover of FURIOUSLY HAPPY) and you’ll have to read the book to hear that story, but last month Jeremy was all “Hey, I made this goat and he’s been frequenting bars and parade floats.  His name is Totes MaGoats” and I was like “Um, no.  He is Totes MY Goat.  Because that is my goat.  Seriously.  I need him.  And I will christen him Vincent Van Goat so he can have two names.”

Well, hello there.

Well, hello there.

unnamed-14

He’s fucking irresistable.

But then Victor was like “No.  Just…what?  No.”  And I did agree that Totes MaGoats/Vincent Van Goat was a bit pricey but he’s also enormous and so pound-per-pound he was a steal.  Victor disagreed because he doesn’t understand how buying-in-bulk works so I turned to my publisher with this email:

My friend Jeremy (the one who made Rory) just sent me a picture of his latest creation AND I NEED IT.

totes2

It’s a giant goat reading Alice in Wonderland but we could place a copy of FURIOUSLY HAPPY in his hand-hoof and then it’d be a taxidermied animal reading about a taxidermied animal. My head hurts from the awesome. Plus, you can take Vincent Van Goat to Book Conventions as a conversation piece and everyone would take a picture. INSTANT PUBLICITY. Then I’d buy it from you later (but at a big discount obviously because “used goat“) and then you won’t have to find a place to store a goat after the tour ends. EVERYONE WINS.

Long story short, will you buy me this goat? Does it help if I mention that I’m a Capricorn and that this is The Year of the Goat? If you don’t want to fund the goat I’ll probably still buy it myself but I’m gonna need you to buy him a seat on the airplane when I go on tour because I think I just found my new service animal. Also, Victor thinks the goat is ridiculous but he also just said that the goat would look good with a jeweled ascot and a pipe so I think he’s warming up to it. Which is good because it’s going in the bedroom.

Hugs, Jenny

Then my publisher was like “Who is this?” and so I decided to just buy the goat for myself.

(Really my publisher said “We love you but this is gonna look weird on an expense report. So, maybe?” and I was like “I CANNOT WAIT FOR YOUR SLOW DECISIONS.  SOMEONE ELSE IS GOING TO SNATCH THIS MAGICAL GOAT UP” and that’s why I had to buy it immediately.)

Last week Jeremy drove Totes to my house from Cincinnati and it was awesome because it was lovely to have someone look at my weird taxidermy with appreciation rather than frightened judgement, and also because it’s hard to even get pizza delivered at my house, much less a full sized goat.

Jeremy and Totes.  It sort of looks like Totes is giving you a rude hand signal but I assure you he is not, unless you're an asshole, in which case you are totally right.

Jeremy and Totes. It sort of looks like Totes is giving you a rude hand gesture but I assure you he is not, unless you’re an asshole, in which case he totally is.

Then Ferris Mewler snuggled up with Jeremy and when we pointed out that Ferris is polydactyl (a cat born with opposable thumbs). Jeremy was like “Whoa.  I’d super like to see your skeleton, buddy,” and then Victor was like “Oh dear God, there are two of you.

Jeremy explained that Totes still had a lot of lanolin in his hair so when I braid and style him it’ll be really healthy for my nails and cuticles – as if I needed another reason to love this goat.  Also, lanolin is really great for irritated nipples so I decided to put Totes in the guest room so that if someone is breast-feeding in that room he can serve as a medicinal goat.

Peony

I put a peony in his hoof because (according to the design blogs) peonies are super in right now.  Then I was like, “OH MY JESUS, VICTOR.  THIS GOAT IS THE BEST VASE EVER.”

It’s nice because that room really needed something and turns out what it needed was a goat.  Upside?  I think I might be able to go into interior design if this whole writing thing turns to shit.

UPDATED:  As requested, a Totes MaGoat tote.  Available in big and not-as-big.

totes tote

“Simmer down now” ~ Back-up Buddy Bobcat

Conversation at the thrift store:

me: Dude.  I think I might need that stuffed bobcat.

Victor:  Just keep walking.

me:  Look at his paw.  It’s like he’s saying, “YOU GUYS?  TAKE IT DOWN A NOTCH, OK?  JUST SIMMER DOWN.”

Victor:  Hm.

me:  We could carry him around in the trunk and you could pull him out to use as your supportive buddy to help you convince me not to do something stupid.

Victor:  I’m fairly certain that buying that bobcat would send the wrong message.

Ignore the photobomber on the right.

Ignore the photobomber on the right.

Clerk:  I can give you a huge discount on it if you want him.  He’s falling apart.

me:  I just don’t know.  It sort of looks like he wants me to calm down, but it also sort of looks like he’s leaning on an invisible bar.  Like a really shitty mime.

Victor: Do whatever you want.  It’s not that bad.

me:  That’s sort of the problem.  It’s not bad enough.

Clerk:  I’m confused.

Victor:  Welcome to my world, sir.

Ps.  I did not buy the bobcat, but I took a picture of him and then later I thought, “OH MY GOD.  I could put a trucker’s hat on him and call him ‘Little Smokey’ and have him lean out of the car window like ‘Hey there, big mama.  What’s your 10-4?‘ and no one would ever bother me at red lights because who is going to fuck with a girl being defended by her pet bobcat?  No one, that’s who.  But when I went back to the store, the bobcat was sold and I was a little upset, but Victor was all, “Calm down.”  And I was like, “THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT LITTLE SMOKEY WOULD HAVE SAID IF HE WAS HERE.”

And that’s when I learned that the time to buy a used, almost free bobcat is when you see one.  Let that be a lesson to you.

 

UPDATED: Twice as cute. Although I suppose that’s subjective.

Last month when we were in Atlanta I found an old, two-headed taxidermied bobcat in a thrift shop that I really wanted to buy, but then I noticed that the shop also had a human hand in a jar for sale.  I couldn’t justify buying both of them and that’s when I realized that this is probably the kind of torture that normal women go through when they’re forced to pick only one pair of shoes. The bobcats were awesome because they were on clearance, so they were twice as cute and half off.  The math does itself.  Victor disagreed, but I pointed out that there was a lot going with these bobcat heads.  One face seemed conservative and cranky while the other seemed flighty and possibly insane.  These heads were a personification of us.  The Victor-ish head seemed to say, “No.  This is a terrible idea” but the me-head was like, “I CAN’T WAIT TO GO HOME WITH YOU GUYS.  GIMME A SNUGGLE AND A BALLOON.”

I'm the one in the middle.

I’m the one in the middle.

But the severed hand was cool too, mostly because it was tattooed in the most ironic way ever.

So...yeah.

So…yeah.

You have to question how “lucky” a guy is if he ends up with his hand in a jar, but severed rabbit feet are supposed to be lucky too so maybe this all makes sense somehow. I couldn’t decide between the two so I held them up to Victor one at a time. “Which is better?  The conjoined bobcat faces or the severed hand?” He looked at me like he was in pain. I don’t blame him though.  It was a tough decision. Victor insisted that I couldn’t buy both but I cradled the bobcat heads and said, “I don’t know.  I really need ‘a hand’ with these two.  Literally.”  Victor pointed out that we were getting on a plane in a few hours and I probably couldn’t bring a human hand through airport security, and I was like “Good point.   Because of the liquid formaldehyde, huh?”  And he was like “AND BECAUSE IT’S A HUMAN HAND.”   I don’t know much liquid can you bring on a plane if a severed hand is displacing most of it so I still couldn’t decide but then the clerk pointed out that the hand was an old movie prop made of latex and so I decided to pass on it because I’m allergic to latex. I paid for my cat(s) but I couldn’t come up with good names for them.  Victor suggested “Hang-Nail & SideCat” but I asked twitter and they suggested several winners too and now I can’t decide.  So I’m going to let you decide.  Please vote on the best names for the newest members of my terrible posse:

The left head hates the tie.  The right head loves it.  Victor would prefer it if I'd stay away from his ties.

The left head hates the tie. The right head loves it. Victor would prefer it if I’d stay away from his ties.

UPDATED:  Another option.  Please don’t sue me, Kevin Smith.  It’s a tribute.  Swear to Alanis Morissette. jay and silent bobcat

I’m stuck on this deer. Literally.

Victor says I never accomplish anything when he’s out of town but I spent yesterday super-gluing tiny rhinestones to a taxidermied deer’s nose so that it would look more magical. So there, Victor.

PS. I bought the deer in a thrift shop because it looks exactly like Victor when he’s like “What the hell is wrong with you?

What are you doing?

“Honestly.  What are you doing?  I’m just baffled.”

And the answer is that I’m rescuing a battered old deer head to turn him into the kind of magical bad-ass who looks fit to hang out with The White Witch of Narnia.

I’m not even close to finished yet, but it’s a work-in-progress…

After

After

PPS. I accidentally super glued my thumb to a dead deer’s face so now I can check that one off my bucket list. Victor said it doesn’t count because no one has that on their bucket list, but I do my bucket list in reverse order (writing down the items I want to accomplish after I’ve already accomplished them) so that I’m always caught up.   So now I can also scratch off “dismantle a chandelier” and “bedazzle a corpse”.  Also, “annoy victor from several States away”. He claims that one was already accomplished long ago but now I’m trying to set a record for distance.