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Conversation with Victor:
me: I FOUND A MAILBOX FOR US.
Victor: We don’t need a mailbox.
me: And yet I still found one. It’s like a goddamn Christmas miracle.
Victor: Yeah. You keep using that word. I don’t think it means what you think it means.
me: Miracle? It means “A person or thing that is a marvelous example of something.” I fucking dare you to find a more marvelous example of a metal chicken mailbox. It’s the Beyonce of mailboxes.
Victor: I’m taking all of your credit cards.
PS. I did not buy Miracle (the metal chicken mailbox) mostly because Victor accidentally quoted Princess Bride and it made me fall in love with him all over again. And also because I felt bad about all the dead mice that I’d bought on ebay that morning. Victor was not nearly as grateful as I thought he’d be because apparently Victor doesn’t understand how “compromise” works. And also because he hadn’t been aware that I was buying a lot of dead mice on ebay. And also, possibly, because he may have overheard me put an unnecessary metal chicken mailbox on layaway. Honestly, it’s hard to tell with Victor. That man is completely unpredictable.
Several people have asked if we still have Beyonce-the-giant-metal-chicken. OF COURSE WE DO. Beyonce right this second:
Country life agrees with him.
Except for the hornets nest inside his belly, which, now that I think about it, sort of works as an organic burglar alarm. No one ever expects to battle angry hornets when trying to steal a giant metal chicken. It’s much like the Spanish Inquisition, but with more hornets and less Catholicism.
Hello! I had a shitastic mental health day yesterday and sort of fell into a lot of self-hatred but today I feel a bit better and hopefully you do too. If not, know that this will pass. Keep breathing.
I can’t remember if I took my ADD meds this morning but I suspect I didn’t so I blame that for this very random blog post that sort of goes together and sort of doesn’t.
SO. My friend Laura (of Beyonce fame) had this uncle (PJ Allen) who was a parade float maker 50+ years ago and years ago they auctioned off the ridiculous stuff in his giant barn and that’s how I ended up with a life sized Marie Antionette and a giant portrait of Martha Washington and bird cages and baby carriages and boxes and boxes of crumbling crepe paper flowers and this pig:
It’s about 4 feet tall and I assumed it held something and also it was wired for sound at one time which makes me wish PJ Allen was still alive because I really want to know what the pig was screaming at people as it paraded down the street. When I originally bought it I thought I’d put a chef hat on it and put it in the kitchen but it was filled with wasp nests and I am lazy so instead it just lived in the garage.
BUT! Then the plague came and I was bored so I decided to do a pig makeover because I thought this pig should probably live at Nowhere Bookshop. And after many hours of elbow grease and strange looks from my neighbors, she is done.
Victor and Hailey think it looks weird because the eyes are too small so I may have to fix those but I texted a picture to Elizabeth (illustrious manager of Nowhere) to see where everyone else stood on pig eyeballs and she was like, “Huh. It’s a little creepy, don’t you think?” And I was like, “WHO EVER HEARD OF A CREEPY PIG, ELIZABETH? Oh, except for the demon pig in Amityville Horror. Omg. We have a name. Jody the Amityville pig. WE ARE A GREAT TEAM.” She hasn’t responded to me yet but probably just because she’s so overwhelmed with how well we work together.
Also, Jody is too heavy to pull in and out of the shop every day so probably she’ll live in the back hallway next to the bathrooms so she can keep you company while you wait to pee and tell you what author is coming to visit next. But I’m still not sure about the eyes.
Anyway, speaking of horror, this month The Fantastic Strangeling Bookclub is reading Catherine House which we’ll discuss probably next week so you have time to sink into the weirdness of it, but we also did an optional book for anyone who wanted an extra distraction and I finally feel good enough to discuss so let’s do that today, okay?
The optional book was HORRORSTÖR by Grady Hendrix and for me it was the perfect distraction. Funny, witty, scary. It seems counterintuitive to love horror when you have an anxiety disorder but I think the great thing about supernatural horror is that you can exercise your fear on something you don’t actually have to worry is going to happen to you. Unless you work at a haunted Ikea knock-off, I guess.
You can go to the Fantastic Strangelings Book Club page on Facebook to discuss, or if you hate Facebook you can leave your thoughts here in the comments. Also, even if you haven’t read the book, let me know what you think about Jody. Should the eyes be bigger? Is she creepy? If so, should I put her inside one of the bathrooms so that she makes people pee faster and there are never any lines?
PS. The folks are wordpress are helping me with a little revamp and that means that my blog might load weird for a few days while we fix things. Like, right now the first 7 comments on each blog post are sort of covered by sidebar stuff so I’m going to fill those 7 comments with random trivia so that you can skip them if you can’t read them or read them and be smarter if you can.
So this weekend? I officially signed a lease for Nowhere Bookshop (and bar).
Technically I couldn’t do this without you so I think that means that you just signed a lease on a bookstore too so I am mentally high-fiving you on our ability to take risks while also begging you to tell me that it’s all going to be okay because JESUSCHRISTWEBOUGHTABOOKSHOP.
Sorry. Okay. Here are the details. The good news is that it’s in Alamo Heights, which is a cool part of San Antonio and it’s really big so that means we’ll have plenty of room for signings and author events and community meetings and book clubs and drag queen story hour and Beyonce. The bad news is that it needs a shit-ton of work. Like, new floors, and some walls have to come down and others up and we have to add a wheelchair ramp and some accessible bathrooms and a bar and it needs paint and furniture and a liquor license. And books, I guess. And customers.
I am totally overwhelmed but I have great people to help me (more on that soon) and it feels like people really care so fingers crossed I didn’t just make a terrible mistake. There were stories in the newspaper and the San Antonio Current and William Shatner sang to me, so it’s been a strange couple of days.
I suspect it’ll take until the end of the year before we open. I have ideas for fun things we can do before that but I need to plan a bit more on the details. I will totally be asking for help though so if you live close maybe a small horde of you can show up and we can all paint it together when it’s closer to being done. I want to do a mural outside but I haven’t really found an artist that matches the weird/dark esthetic I want so if all else fails I’ll draw something and project it on the walls and then we’ll just have a giant, community paint-by-number party until we get arrested for vandalism and public intoxication. If you’re good at painting tentacles please see me because there’s gonna be tentacles. And maybe ravens and cat heads. I’m still thinking.
And there will be lots of ways to be a part of the bookstore even if you don’t live anywhere near Texas. You are part of this family whether you like it or not. (But I hope you like it.)
PS. I want to have food because you need food if you’re drinking but I don’t want cooked food so what do you usually crave when you’re reading a great book and drinking a glass of wine? Cookies? Scones? Pie? Popcorn? Those long licorice ropes that you can use as an edible straw?
Today was my 30th TMS treatment and it’s been hard. We tried some new spots on my brain for treatment and it didn’t work. So last week we went back to what helped last year. And today? I feel good. Even though the weather is nasty and I’m tired and overwhelmed and scared. I feel the normal sorts of emotions a normal sort of person would feel after coming out of a depressive period. And it’s amazing.
I’ve felt good for almost a week now. Today I have energy. Instead of staring at my blog and thinking that nothing I write is important enough to share I find myself wanting to talk to you. I’m responding to texts and emails. I’m leaving the house.
I hope this time I can go into full remission, but if I don’t I will remind myself of these good days…and that life is so worthwhile, even when you have to wade through the terrible moments your brain throws at you. And that’s a very good thing.
So here is what’s happening with me:
Ten years ago today I quit my job in HR to give myself a year to try to finish my first book. It feels like yesterday. It feels like a million years ago. Both of these are true. I still feel like the weird girl from HR pretending to be an author. I still look at other writers who have accomplished so much more in the last decade. But I’m proud of the three books I finished, and the two more I’m writing now. I am slow, but that’s okay. Thank you for making that okay, and for not giving up on me even when I’m not in the spotlight.
In other news, Nowhere Bookshop has a logo!
The one that you guys picked had some issues but it worked out because we ended up with something similar but even better…
And if you liked the other logo design options you’re in luck because I bought a bunch of them so you’ll probably see your favorite on t-shirt and bag designs in the future.
More to come soon…
PS. Can’t wait for a t-shirt? Click here.
First off, your suggestions and support about the bookstore I want to open were AMAZING and you seriously made me cry but in a good way. In the spirit of keeping you in the loop since this is now *our* bookstore (as apparently almost all of you also want to open a bookstore or at least live in one) I have to tell you that I started scouting locations and the one I just looked at is an abandoned, haunted, 100-year-old church where Victor and I once saw an amateur magic show back when it was a fancy gourmet hotdog restaurant. This is all true. It is haunted as fuck and IT HAS A BAR IN IT and stained glass everywhere and a stage for readings and I thought it was totally the place, even though the outside was overgrown and something had died in the wall and it needed a lot of work. Then we found out that the elevator doesn’t go to the mezzanine and it’s too small a space without it and accessibility is one thing we won’t blink on. So sadly, Holy Haunted Hot Dog Magic Church Bookstore is not meant to be, which was very disappointing especially since that name fucking sings and it would be a great place for me to haunt in the afterlife.
Seriously though…look at it.
So…the search continues next week. Let me know if you have any other suggestions for San Antonio locations and I’ll keep you posted.
And on an entirely different subject, it’s time for the Sunday wrap-up!
Shit I made in my shop (Named “EIGHT POUNDS OF UNCUT COCAINE” so that your credit card bill will be more interesting.):
- “Can I have a tiny Beyonce for my desk or to give to a friend who totally needs one?” Yes. Yes you can.
- I have some regrets today.
- Honestly he should probably just block my number on April Fool’s Day.
- Favorite thing of the week.
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