Category Archives: weekly reruns

It’s how the light gets in…

So, yesterday we got a dog.

Most people would end that sentence with an exclamation mark, but honestly I wasn’t looking for a dog. I’ve said “no” to hundreds my daughter has begged for (and even a few I wanted myself) because it hurts too much to lose one. When Barnaby Jones died  four years ago I said “never again“.

And then Hailey fell in love with this tiny dog. And then Victor fell in love with this tiny dog. And then I said, “No.  Get it away from me.”  But the puppy ignored me and curled up in my lap as Victor explained that this dog was practically medicinal, and is well-suited to being an emotional support dog, which he thinks  might help with my anxiety disorder.

So I said yes…and it was very sweet to watch her frolic with Hailey, but my heart is still broken from dogs so I kept my distance.  (Much like Hunter S. Thomcat, who was similarly reserving judgement, as you can see below.)

puppy

Then last night she whimpered as she was put in her crate, so I moved her next to my bed and put my hand on her until she was comforted enough to sleep. I told myself not to look, but at midnight I turned on my phone so I could use its glow to check on her.

She’d curled into a small, content ball and the odd markings on her side smooshed together to make a tiny perfect heart. Well, not perfect exactly, as a small line broke the heart in the middle.

heart3

Then, as I watched, she snuggled up tighter and the heart became whole. And she was mine. And vice-versa.

So now we need a name.  These are the contenders to far:

  • Dorothy Barker
  • Louise L’Amour
  • Lola
  • Little Sheba
  • Happy
  • Valentine
  • Rabbit
  • Charlotte
  • Penelope (pronounced PEE-nuh-lope)
  • Rocket
  • THE MONARCH
  • Little Edie
  • Bunny
  • Dixi
  • Gracie

PS. I just read that Marie Antoinette had a papillon and carried it all the way to the guillotine as a comfort to her.  Conclusion: I think Marie Antoinette invented the first emotional service dog, and look how well things worked out for her.

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And now, the weekly wrap-up of awesomeness:

sid

Shit I made in my shop (Named “EIGHT POUNDS OF UNCUT COCAINE” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):

Shit-I-didn’t-come-up-with-but-wish-I-did-because-it’s-awesome:

Shit you should buy or steal because it’s awesome:

This week’s wrap-up is brought to you by CAMP TxSC, a weekend retreat for lady bloggers and business owners with a focus on networking, renewing creativity, and eating a crop ton of s’mores.  Plus, I’m a keynote speaker which means these people have made the questionable decision to give me a microphone.  Register now and use code BLOGGESS for 25% off until Feb. 1.

“Are cannibals always mermaids?” It’s what we’ve all been wondering. Apparently.

You know when you google something and it autocorrects to EXACTLY what you want?  No, you don’t.  Because that doesn’t happen.

Like when I was trying to figure out if women were ever cannibals, or if it’s more of an all-male profession and Google was all, “I’LL HELP YOU!”

are

First of all, you are not going to guess what I’m googling based on just the word “Are”.  Secondly, who is googling “Are you here?”  What are you expecting as an answer?

Then I kept typing and this happened:

are ca

Google:  “Oh, my bad.  You were looking for something else, obviously.  I’ll just let you finish -WAIT – IS IT, “ARE CARROTS GOOD FOR DOGS?“”

No, Google.  Of course it’s not.  Just.  Stop.   I don’t need your help.

are canGoogle:  “Oops.  Sorry.  I fucked up.  I’ll shut up and – “ARE CANDY CORNS GLUTEN FREE?“”

OMG, stop it, Google.  They aren’t even called “Candy Corns.”  What is wrong with you?

are cannibals h

No.  Just…  I didn’t even mean to type that “H” and you’re all “You know who’s a cannibal?  Hamsters and hillbillies.”  That’s so out of left-field.  Where are you getting your information?

are cannibals al

First off, albinos are not cannibals and why are you even saying that?  Frankly, it’s offensive.  And your fifth suggestion is  “we are all cannibals”.  Because I don’t think we are.  Same for hamsters and hillbillies and albinos.  Just stop making assumptions.

Who is teaching you this?

are cannibals aways

My God, Google.  Who did this to you?

are cannibals always meYou know what, Google?  The first one?  I’ll give you that.  But then you move straight to “Are cannibals always meerkats“.  Is this what you’re doing with your time?  Is this the question you think we’re asking?

Someone hurt you, Google.  Someone hurt you.

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And now, the weekly wrap-up of awesomeness:

madebyroundtablecompanies 2

Shit I made in my shop (Named “EIGHT POUNDS OF UNCUT COCAINE” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):

Shit-I-didn’t-come-up-with-but-wish-I-did-because-it’s-awesome:

Shit you should buy or steal because it’s awesome:

This week’s wrap-up is brought to you by the fantastic Crumple + Toss. Valentine’s Day is just around the corner and you know what that means: a bunch of ugly, lame cards that offer no acceptable sentiment for your special someone! HOORAY!  Crumple + Toss to the rescue!  Even if you want to just tell a friend they rule so hard. No one said we had to sit in front of Netflix with oreos alone, y’all.  (My personal favorite.)

You are the best Godzilla ever.

Hello!

This is a disjointed post as my is family here for an early Christmas since my dad will be manning his taxidermy shop on actual Christmas.  Because nothing says “Happy birthday, Jesus!” like being elbow-deep in a warm deer.

I just want to say such an enormous thank you to everyone who asked for or offered help this week on our 5th Annual James Garfield Miracle Post.  I’ve lost track but my best estimate is that over $75k has already been donated this week to helping kids have at least one Christmas/Hanukkah present, or giving a security blanket, toy and book to a homeless child, or giving a gift through Heifer to help better the world.   Project Night Night and Heifer have both reached out to say that they are seeing a ton of donations come from here, and the comments of people sending toys and receiving them have given me back my Christmas spirit.

My friend , Joe Baden, surprised me with an amazing illustration he made for me this week:

bloggess joe badon

And it’s perfect because at first I thought it was me fighting Godzilla, but then I looked closer and realized it was more like Godzilla and I are on the same team and he’s totally got my back.   As if I was like, “LET’S DO THIS SHIT.  LET’S SAVE CHRISTMAS AND TURN ALL GUNS INTO CHOCOLATE AND MAKE PAJAMAS FOR COLD SLOTHS!”  And Godzilla was all, “Have you been drinking again?  You’re in your pajamas and you’re armed with a blow-dryer.  And it’s not even plugged in.  Jesus, lady.  JUST LET ME HELP YOU.”

That Godzilla is you.

If you’re part of the community.  If you helped.  If sent a word of kindness.  If you donated, or plan to donate in the future.  (Heifer and Project Night Night always need help.)  If you were humble enough to ask for help, or selfless enough to pass on help to others once your needs were met.  No matter what part you played, you are my Godzilla.

Thank you for being my Godzilla.

PS. If you want to leave comments of thanks you can do that here, but if you’re asking for help, or including a link for help please just leave those comments on the original post so we don’t end up with confusion, okay?

PPS.  For those still struggling to make the holiday special for their children, or those who weren’t able to get their present delivered before Christmas here are a few ideas:

Go on youtube and create an entire playlist for them of songs that remind you of them, or that you know they’d love to hear. I made a playlist for Hailey and she listens to it over and over. It’s like the free mixtape of the future.

Get a pinterest account (it’s free), search it for the cool stuff they love, and pin those things to a board you made just for them. Motivational words, art they’d like, meme’s they enjoy, movies they like. I have one for Hailey and she loves to check it out because it’s all about the Star Wars and Night Vale and Doctor Who and funny animals, and it reminds her that I’m thinking of her.  This is a mirror image of it if you want to see how it works.  I keep the real one marked “private” so I don’t have to worry about her seeing comments 10 year olds shouldn’t read.

Go to the library and get a GREAT book you loved at that age. Then turn off everything but a single lamp and read aloud. Even now I love listening to my mom read.

Do art together. Maybe it’s coloring. Maybe it’s doodling. Maybe it’s getting out your phone or camera to take funny photos.

And remember that, no matter what, if your children have your love they are already ahead of the game.

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And now, the weekly wrap-up of awesomeness:

madebyroundtablecompanies 2

Shit I made in my shop (Named “EIGHT POUNDS OF UNCUT COCAINE” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):

Shit-I-didn’t-come-up-with-but-wish-I-did-because-it’s-awesome:

Shit you should buy or steal because it’s awesome:

This week’s wrap-up is brought to you by the creators of THE KEGEL BEAR, an adorable children’s book about vaginal exercise.  That sounds weird, but it’s actually quite genius, as outlined in the video and also makes a fabulous baby shower gift.   No bears or vaginas were harmed in the making of this product.  

Number one, I’m gonna need you to be honest here…

It’s been awhile since we’ve had a good poll so I thought I’d get your opinion on a question I often ask during uncomfortable silences:

By the way, one of these answers is mine.  10 points to Gryffindor if you guess which.

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And now, the weekly wrap-up of awesomeness:

madebyroundtablecompanies 2

Shit I made in my shop (Named “EIGHT POUNDS OF UNCUT COCAINE” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):

Shit-I-didn’t-come-up-with-but-wish-I-did-because-it’s-awesome:

Shit you should buy or steal because it’s awesome:

This week’s wrap-up is brought to you by SilkWords, the go-to source for steamy interactive women’s fiction. Two formats are available: branched fiction (“pick your path”) and linear stories produced with reader participation.  Holiday Cruise is the latest branched story.  “Erin’s friends drag her on a weekend holiday cruise to distract her from a breakup. What erotic adventures await?”  Click to find out.

Zazzle thinks I’m some sort of serial killer.

me: I wanted to make something new for my shop but all I’ve come up with is a shirt that says “This is where I keep my nipples.

Victor:  Hmm. How about “My meemaw can kick your meemaw’s ass.

me:  Maybe.

Victor: What about a shirt that says “My other shirt has diarrhea on it”?

me:  Ooh! And then you get your partner to wear a second shirt and that other shirt just says “Diarrhea.”

Victor:  Um…I think you’ve gone too far.

me: No, it’s like having matching outfits, but less lame. And with more diarrhea.

diarr

Victor:  That’s too much diarrhea.

me:  Can you really ever have too much diarrhea?

Victor:  Yes. Yes, you can.

I decided to just put all of these ideas up for sell and zazzle was like “Hey!  Check out your designs on other products!” and I was like, “I don’t think that’s a good idea” and Zazzle was like, “YOU SHOULD TOTALLY DO IT.”

ohgod

You’re making it weird, Zazzle.

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And now, the weekly wrap-up of awesomeness:

Sketch by Ray Friesen

(Sketch by Ray Friesen)

Shit I made in my shop (Named “EIGHT POUNDS OF UNCUT COCAINE” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):

This week’s wrap-up is brought to you by Caitlin Sweet’s new book THE DOOR IN THE MOUNTAIN

“We are all monsters . . .”   Lost in time, shrouded in dark myths of blood and magic, The Door in the Mountain leads to the world of ancient Crete: a place where a beautiful, bitter young princess named Ariadne schemes to imprison her godmarked half-brother deep in the heart of a mountain maze, where a boy named Icarus tries, and fails, to fly—and where a slave girl changes the paths of all their lives forever.  If you like awesome Greek mythology then you should check it out here.

I think spellcheck just broke up with me.

There’s this girl online named Gemma Correll who draws pictures of cats and pugs and anxiety and stuff, and when I saw her illustrated map of an introvert’s heart I was like “Yep.  It’s just like this.  Except add more twitter.”

gemmacorrell

Then I went on twitter and followed her and tried to send her a tweet

g6

…but spellcheck was like “‘Friends?’  Nope.  I don’t think so.”  And I thought, “Am I spelling ‘friends’ wrong?” so I clicked on it and spellcheck was like, “Maybe you should look up ‘friends’ because you keep using that word and I don’t think it means what you think it means.”  

g4

So then I was like, “Fine, spellcheck.  I don’t what your deal is but if it makes you happy I’ll look it up,” and spellcheck was like, “Great.  Because it means this: It means you’re asking someone to like you who isn’t even related to you.”

g3

…and I was like, “Yeah.  I already knew that.  Why are you doing this?  I can have friends.”  And the spellcheck was like, “Yeah, you’re obviously not getting it.  Why don’t I give you some suggestions?…

g2

  …Did you maybe mean ‘fiends’?  Did you mean that you should be ‘fiends’ with this girl?  Because that makes more sense.”  And I was like “WHAT IN THE SHIT ARE YOU IMPLYING?” and spellcheck was like, “Well, I just…I know you.  And I’m trying to help.  Why don’t you just look up ‘fiends’ just in case?”  

g1

And then I was like “Wow.  Thanks, spellcheck.  I almost asked someone to be my friend when apparently what I really meant to say was, ‘Hey.  Love your work.  We should be  THE  DEVIL.’  Thanks for saving me from that near-catastrophe!”  And then spellcheck was like, “Whatever.  You don’t have to be sarcastic.  I was just trying to help you.”  And then I felt bad.  

And then I wrote this blog post and it’s basically one terrible run-on sentence but spell-check isn’t saying anything about it so I’m pretty sure that means spellcheck isn’t speaking to me anymore.  I think we’re in a fight and I suspect spellcheck is breaking up with me.  Hopefully we can still be friends fiends.

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And now, the weekly wrap-up of awesomeness:

SID3

Shit I made in my shop (Named “EIGHT POUNDS OF UNCUT COCAINE” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):

Shit-I-didn’t-come-up-with-but-wish-I-did-because-it’s-awesome:

Shit you should buy or steal because it’s awesome:

This week‘s wrap-up is brought to you by the fantastic Kelly Exeter at A Life Less Frantic. If 2014 hasn’t treated you very well, then her short and sweet little book Your Best Year Yet can help turn things around for you in 2015.  She’s so confident of this, she’ll give you your money back if it doesn’t happen.  I bought a copy myself this afternoon and I’ve already underlined a few parts that I really needed to hear.  You should check it out here.

EVERY day is Cat Day

Apparently National Cat Day was October 29th and I missed it, so I guess that explains why Ferris Mewler threw up in my shoe.  In my defense, it was just World Cat Day in August.  Why do cats need so many days?  No clue.  But to make up for whatever I did to offend the cats I’m sharing the pictures I took of Ferris Mewler, who was ignoring me badly in spite of the fact that he would starve without me:

NOPE

Is it just me or is he flipping me off in that last picture?  Because I think he is.

This is exactly why people prefer dogs, Ferris.

 

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And now, the weekly wrap-up of awesomeness:

SID3

Shit I made in my shop (Named “EIGHT POUNDS OF UNCUT COCAINE” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):

Shit that I’m vaguely involved with on the internets:

Shit-I-didn’t-come-up-with-but-wish-I-did-because-it’s-kind-of-awesome:

Shit you should buy or steal because it’s awesome:

This week‘s wrap-up is brought to you by Crumple + Toss, who are perfect for your holiday stationery needs. Everything from typical Christmas fare: nativities, poinsettias, and the like, to irreverent and hilarious selections guaranteed to offend.  This one is a personal fave.  Christmas not your jam? There’s plenty of Chanukah cards as well as “Happy Whatever” to cover your ass in awkward situations.  Come have a look around!

I can’t go for that.

I’ve never liked the song I Can’t Go For That because this guy seems totally untrustworthy.  I’ve never actually paid attention to all the lyrics but the chorus is telling enough, I think:

“I’ll do anything that you want me to.”

“Oh.  I’ll do almost anything that you want me to.”

“I CAN’T GO FOR THAT.”

“No, I…  NO CAN DO.”

“ICAN’TGOFORTHAT. ICAN’TGOFORTHAT. I CAN’T GO FOR THAAAAAT!”

I’m not sure why he changed so suddenly but it certainly shows his lack of dedication.  He’s like Blaine in Pretty in Pink.  “I’ll do anything that you want me to.”  Really, Blaine?  Will you tell your friends about me?  “Well, almost anything.”  What about prom, Blaine? “I CAN’T HEAR YOU.  LALALALALA.”

In fairness, I should listen to the full song because maybe the singer was like, “Baby, I’ll do anything you want.  Wanna a neck rub?” and she was like, “No, but you could help me with this cocaine enema.  I’ll get the towels” and he was like, “Well, I meant…almost anything.”  And she was like, “Can you help me dismember a body?” and he was all “Can I do what now?  No.”  And then she’s like,  “Fine.  I need you to kill this kitten for Satan” and he was all, “You want me to kill Mr. Tinkles?  WHAT IS YOUR DEAL, LADY?  NO CAN DO.”

Honestly, I bet she didn’t even want to date him.  She was probably just testing to see if he was really fully invested.  Or to teach him the importance of avoiding hyperbole and exaggeration when it comes to seduction.  Or maybe she was just really into Satan and cocaine enemas.  Hard to tell.  Frankly, the whole song just makes me glad I’m not single.  Victor and I have been married for 18 years and our song is more like “I can’t clean up that cat vomit or I’ll vomit too.”  “Fine.  I’ll clean up the cat vomit if you handle all the large spiders that get in the house.”  “Deal.”  “You want get some tacos?”  “Yeah.  I could go for that.”  It’s not as rhymey but it works for us.

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And now, the weekly wrap-up of awesomeness:

sidmouse

Shit I made in my shop (Named “EIGHT POUNDS OF UNCUT COCAINE” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):

Shit that I’m vaguely involved with on the internets:

Shit-I-didn’t-come-up-with-but-wish-I-did-because-it’s-kind-of-awesome:

Shit you should buy or steal because it’s awesome:

  • This.  Just for the reviews alone.

This week‘s wrap-up is brought to you by the always fabulous SilkWords.  They specialize in choose-your-own-adventure online erotic stories and right now they’re doing a few where the story unfolds with reader participation. Readers are given choices and then vote on what happens next, and then the author writes the next installment. Membership is free for adults.  You should check them out here.

I started writing this post a year ago and I still don’t have a good ending.

Conversation between me and Victor:

me:  Look!  I designed a shirt for us:

procrastinate no

Victor:  “Procrastinate no“?

me:  It was meant to say “PROCRASTINATE NOW” but then I got distracted and never finished it.

Victor:  Well, that’s ridiculous.

Me:  No, it’s fitting.  Because I’m all, “PROCRASTINATE NOW!” because I’m cool with procrastination.  So cool with it, in fact, that I didn’t even finish the shirt.  But then it also works for you because you hate procrastination, so if you wear it it’s more like: “PROCRASTINATE?  NO!”  Either way, everyone agrees.  And now we can both wear the same shirt so we’re saving money on clothes.

Victor:  Except that we don’t wear the same size.   And the shirt isn’t here.

me:  I haven’t ordered it yet.  I figured I’d do it later.

Victor:  So you haven’t ordered the shirt that you haven’t finished…which celebrates the fact that you procrastinate?

me:  Yes.  I’m proving my own point without even wearing the shirt.  That’s how good of a shirt it is.

PS.  I read that The Nepalese postal service sometimes gets so behind they throw away sacks of undelivered mail. Based on that, I think I might be Nepalesian. Or Nepaleatic.  Or Neopolitan. I’m not sure which, but I just spent an hour looking up why I don’t have time to answer all my mail in the time it could have taken me to answer all my mail.  I can’t tell if that’s impressive or incredibly sad.  Also, I just remembered that I haven’t taken my ADD drugs in awhile.

Things are starting to make sense now.

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And now, the weekly wrap-up of awesomeness:

sid4(Paper collage courtesy of Bethany Goosen.)

Shit I made in my shop (Named “EIGHT POUNDS OF UNCUT COCAINE” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):

Shit that I’m vaguely involved with on the internets:

This week‘s wrap-up is brought to you the fabulous Victoria Elizabeth Barnes, who writes about restoring her old Victorian house… Sort of.  She writes about being married, surviving intense and chaotic house-projects with her husband, and her deep love of craigslist/hoarding giant architectural salvage.  You might know her from the time she brought home a massive mirror that’s bigger than my first apartment, but my favorite was the time she made her husband rip down walls to save treasure.  Go read it.

I was going to title this “Letting the cat out of the bag” but, frankly, I think we’re all better than that.

I just went to throw away the empty sack Victor left on the counter after he unpacked the groceries* but then I heard the bag rustling and looked at Victor and said, “Sir?  Have you left your bags unattended at any time?”

ferris hermit crab

And then Ferris Mewler gave me that panicked guilty look of “OMG, WTF?  KNOCK FIRST” and I was like, “Hang on.  What did you do?”  And that’s when I looked in and realized he’d ripped open a catnip mouse in there and was having a small, paranoid kitty freak-out.

It was like a tiny paper hotbox and now I think he needs rehab.

These are the things people never warn you about cat ownership.

*I changed the original way I’d written this because in real life it was a sack from a resale shop that Victor left on the counter after he was like, “No, no, no.  Do not leave that decapitated head on the kitchen counter.  You take that with you” and he pulled it out of the sack and I had to carry it around with me for an hour while I tried to find a good spot for her.  I changed the head (and also a vintage scythe) to “groceries” because I thought people would be too distracted to enjoy the cat picture, and then I’d have to explain that the vintage head is not made of real human (except for the hair) and that at $25 she was cheap at twice the price.

As an aside, Hailey and I are currently debating the best style for Hedy Lamarr (I’m open to other names if you have something more fitting) and I think this is an excellent place for a poll:

heddy

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And now, time for the weekly wrap-up:

sid2

 

Shit I made in my shop (Named “EIGHT POUNDS OF UNCUT COCAINE” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):

Shit that I’m vaguely involved with on the internets:

Shit-I-didn’t-come-up-with-but-wish-I-did-because-it’s-kind-of-awesome:

Shit you should buy or steal because it’s awesome:

This week’s wrap-up is brought to you by David Robert, author of Wanderlush.  “When David, self-proclaimed anxiety-ridden introvert, convinces himself that he’s dying of ass cancer, he invites his delightfully unpredictable, Xanax-popping, chardonnay-swilling mother on a series of international “good-bye” vacations. By doing so, he unwittingly opens a Pandora’s box of hilarious and humiliating events that include digging his mom out of a rain gutter in Costa Rica and being dragged across the Arabian Desert by a psychotic camel named Forrest Hump. As the vacations unfold, David’s mother shares a secret that will change everything.”  I’m buying it.  You probably should too.