Oh I had plans. I had big plans. Four days off, no guests for Thanksgiving dinner? Plans, baby. Clean house. Trip to the storage unit. Christmas decorations. Yep. Big plans.
What? Oh, you want to know what got done? Um…well…my desk is a lot cleaner. And my kitchen floor. But that's about it. Oh there was cooking. There was turkey and stuffing and and roasted Brussels sprouts and sweet potato casserole. There was sticky toffee pudding and pumpkin pie. There were even emergency muffins made late last night when I realized there was no real breakfast food in the house and that I am done, DONE, with turkey. But there are no christmas decorations up. There are a few sitting on the table in the dining room (also known as my office, also known as the other side of the living room). There are plenty more in the storage unit. But no tree. Not yet. Maybe next weekend.
Oh, next weekend…there is a craft show. Tallmouse hosts the Handmade Brigade, which the Tired Girls attended in the summer and enjoyed very much. So, you know, if you find yourself in Cerritos, stop by. I'll have a soy peppermint mocha, no whip please. And if you are feeling generous, make it a grande. Thanks.
In the meanwhile, I have a suggestion for you. See, there is this other blog…the PaperLotus blog, where you may have seen my musings on artsy things. Well, we are having a little holiday giveaway over there. All you need to do is stop by and follow the instructions which pretty much boil down to: choose something you like from the store and post a comment with a link to it. Simple, right? And who knows, you might win something. So please do. Besides, we love the company. And sometimes I say something over there that's not so stupid. And we like to talk about art and craft, so maybe you'll enjoy it.
Showing posts with label tired girl. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tired girl. Show all posts
Monday, December 01, 2008
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Toast.
I am going to be completely honest with you here. I am burnt. And crispy. Like toast. Burnt, crispy, toast. Or bacon. Overdone. Uncomfortably crunchy. No, let’s go with toast. I like toast. I don’t care so much for the bacon. I am toast.
It’s been a busy three or four weeks around here. Traveling, birthdaying, premiering, Felt Clubbing, and having a cold has taken it out of me. Add on the poor air quality due to the fires and I am left a crispy outer shell with very little inside. But you know what? I am left, and my home is intact (messy, but intact) and all my people are ok, so I guess being burnt out, is a lot better than some of the alternatives around here right now.
Felt Club was good. I think we were pretty successful. We always get nice people visiting us and this time was no exception. And hey, there were also people we sort of know. Friends and internet buddies stopped by and that was lovely. I bought stuff that I don’t need but want anyway and that too was lovely. An adorable “soap dish” that is destined to become a display stand for the perfect cupcake, a very excellent print of a bat, a charming watercolor, a nice little bag…probably some other things that I am not remembering. It was big and it was loud and it was crowded and it was fun but on top of everything else, it was pretty exhausting.
And besides that, I had, AGAIN, this weird blushing problem. See, I am pretty shy. I do blush quite a lot when I have to talk to strangers but usually, it’s like, in a classroom situation, or being singled out from a crowd, which I guess is not really that strange, right? That’s a normal reponse, to blush when put on the spot. But here, it happened twice, no…three times during conversations that I instigated. And when I blush, I get really embarrassed. Which is kind of the opposite of how it’s supposed to work, right? But yet again, while talking to a very pleasant artist that I am fond of, I felt my cheeks flare red and I hightailed it out of there. And again when I spoke to a handbag designer and yet again while talking to a cartoonist. Now, partially I can say that I get bashful because these people are good at what they do and I feel a wee bit tiny next to them, but you know, I feel a wee bit tiny next to pretty much everyone, so…I don’t know. Any one have any ideas on combating that creeping flush?
Anyway, now it’s on to one more craft show, this one a smaller deal, but a very nice one, I am looking forward to that. And there’s a little bit of work to be done for it, but nothing too scary. And there’s thanksgiving. Which I thought was two weeks away. And I was wrong. So…yeah. And apparently I am cooking for all of you, so I guess I need to go shopping. And for the record, we usually have Pilsbury orange rolls from a tube for Thanksgiving breakfast. Years ago I would make beautiful cinnamon rolls or muffins or something lovely and take it to my girlfriend’s house. We would eat sweets and drink coffee and go off to our alma mater’s football game and it was a lovely tradition. Until her husband said “Wow, these are good cinnamon rolls, way better than yours, honey.” Thus ended the Thanksgiving breakfast…well and I moved away so…you know. But it’s orange rolls this year, so come early if you are into that (Brenda).
It’s been a busy three or four weeks around here. Traveling, birthdaying, premiering, Felt Clubbing, and having a cold has taken it out of me. Add on the poor air quality due to the fires and I am left a crispy outer shell with very little inside. But you know what? I am left, and my home is intact (messy, but intact) and all my people are ok, so I guess being burnt out, is a lot better than some of the alternatives around here right now.
Felt Club was good. I think we were pretty successful. We always get nice people visiting us and this time was no exception. And hey, there were also people we sort of know. Friends and internet buddies stopped by and that was lovely. I bought stuff that I don’t need but want anyway and that too was lovely. An adorable “soap dish” that is destined to become a display stand for the perfect cupcake, a very excellent print of a bat, a charming watercolor, a nice little bag…probably some other things that I am not remembering. It was big and it was loud and it was crowded and it was fun but on top of everything else, it was pretty exhausting.
And besides that, I had, AGAIN, this weird blushing problem. See, I am pretty shy. I do blush quite a lot when I have to talk to strangers but usually, it’s like, in a classroom situation, or being singled out from a crowd, which I guess is not really that strange, right? That’s a normal reponse, to blush when put on the spot. But here, it happened twice, no…three times during conversations that I instigated. And when I blush, I get really embarrassed. Which is kind of the opposite of how it’s supposed to work, right? But yet again, while talking to a very pleasant artist that I am fond of, I felt my cheeks flare red and I hightailed it out of there. And again when I spoke to a handbag designer and yet again while talking to a cartoonist. Now, partially I can say that I get bashful because these people are good at what they do and I feel a wee bit tiny next to them, but you know, I feel a wee bit tiny next to pretty much everyone, so…I don’t know. Any one have any ideas on combating that creeping flush?
Anyway, now it’s on to one more craft show, this one a smaller deal, but a very nice one, I am looking forward to that. And there’s a little bit of work to be done for it, but nothing too scary. And there’s thanksgiving. Which I thought was two weeks away. And I was wrong. So…yeah. And apparently I am cooking for all of you, so I guess I need to go shopping. And for the record, we usually have Pilsbury orange rolls from a tube for Thanksgiving breakfast. Years ago I would make beautiful cinnamon rolls or muffins or something lovely and take it to my girlfriend’s house. We would eat sweets and drink coffee and go off to our alma mater’s football game and it was a lovely tradition. Until her husband said “Wow, these are good cinnamon rolls, way better than yours, honey.” Thus ended the Thanksgiving breakfast…well and I moved away so…you know. But it’s orange rolls this year, so come early if you are into that (Brenda).
Monday, November 19, 2007
Noisy.
I am I a bad person just because I joined FaceBook for the sole reason of annoying my nephew into giving me his Christmas list? Probably. But that’s what technology is for, right? Shaming the ones that you love into doing what you want?
It’s a hectic race down to the day after Thanksgiving now. The Tired Girl Collective will be at the Handmade for the Holidays event at the Fairfax High School and I am…not quite prepared yet. But I will be! Well…I hope I will be. We are planning a low key Thanksgiving just for this reason. But, also, because it’s just the two of this time, although I will say, it’s pretty darn hard to find a turkey that weighs less than 12 pounds. I was ready to go for Cornish hens myself.
Heh, I just very dramatically reached for my headphones to signify to my co-workers that I do not want to hear their reviews of current books or movies…and for once it actually worked and they moved away from my desk. This is the problem with the open floor plan office, you are subject to the conversations of EVERYONE ELSE. And quite frankly, I don’t care what they thought of the movies they saw this weekend! And let me just mention here that I was given a wonderful pair of noise canceling headphones for my birthday and my co-workers appear to be the only thing that these headphones CAN’T cancel. They’re loud. Very loud. And proud of it.
Ok, back to work so I can go home, shop for all the Thanksgiving ingredients so that I can then work on things to be sold at the craft fair. Sigh. Never ending.
It’s a hectic race down to the day after Thanksgiving now. The Tired Girl Collective will be at the Handmade for the Holidays event at the Fairfax High School and I am…not quite prepared yet. But I will be! Well…I hope I will be. We are planning a low key Thanksgiving just for this reason. But, also, because it’s just the two of this time, although I will say, it’s pretty darn hard to find a turkey that weighs less than 12 pounds. I was ready to go for Cornish hens myself.
Heh, I just very dramatically reached for my headphones to signify to my co-workers that I do not want to hear their reviews of current books or movies…and for once it actually worked and they moved away from my desk. This is the problem with the open floor plan office, you are subject to the conversations of EVERYONE ELSE. And quite frankly, I don’t care what they thought of the movies they saw this weekend! And let me just mention here that I was given a wonderful pair of noise canceling headphones for my birthday and my co-workers appear to be the only thing that these headphones CAN’T cancel. They’re loud. Very loud. And proud of it.
Ok, back to work so I can go home, shop for all the Thanksgiving ingredients so that I can then work on things to be sold at the craft fair. Sigh. Never ending.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Gone.
Things that are conspiring to keep me from sleeping
1. stress, both real and imagined
2. fear, both specific and generic
and speaking of fear…can I just tell you that I have been programmed by my education to not sleep? Seriously. And I am betting it’s a generational thing because I am pretty sure anyone who went to school with me has this lingering fear of nuclear holcost and if everyone in my eighth grade class has it, then I am betting that pretty much everyone from that era has it. I can’t be the only one who spent an entire semester in a darkened classroom watching movies about nuclear winters, can I? And when I say movies, I mean MOVIES, Tora Tora Tora, The Atomic Cafe, The Day After…lots of them. And the teacher wore fatigues! Ok, maybe we were the only ones but that one semester of eighth grade social studies has trained me to lie in bed at night and fear the worst. It’s bad enough that the kitchen floor is dirty or that the cat box could use a good cleaning or that I may have spilled paint on the counter and forgot to clean it up but then I start to worry about faces melting and ducking and covering and…oh, you get the picture…anyway
3. tossing and turning of husband
4. whirring of fan…why, oh, why don’t we have an air conditioner in the bedroom?
5. That damn bird that has learned how to mimic an alarm clock. SERIOUSLY. And he starts going off around 3 a.m. Bastard.
BUT THAT'S ALL RIGHT, THAT”S O.K. I DON'T NEED SLEEP ANYWAY!
Why? Because I am a TIRED GIRL, that’s right. And the Tired Girls are about ready to take over San Diego once again. And when I say “take over” I pretty much mean sit quietly at our table and talk nice to you when you walk by. But we will be there, at the convention center, from Wednesday night to Sunday evening and we will be peddling our wares. And I don’t mean anything dirty by that…unless you have a lot of money, then we can talk. NO, NO! I keeeed, I keeeed. (Good Lord, can you tell how tired I must really be if I am making prostitiuion jokes?). We’ve got all kinds of cool stuff and most of us are reasonably nice people so please, stop by if you are in the neighborhood, won’t you? Say “HI” to Anna, Jodi, and Sherri…and me too!
And don’t forget to go see our boys at Big Boss. They are super swell and we love them, especially Jason! Stop by his blog for more Comic-Con pimping and see if you don’t get all excited over the geekery.
See you in a week or so!
1. stress, both real and imagined
2. fear, both specific and generic
and speaking of fear…can I just tell you that I have been programmed by my education to not sleep? Seriously. And I am betting it’s a generational thing because I am pretty sure anyone who went to school with me has this lingering fear of nuclear holcost and if everyone in my eighth grade class has it, then I am betting that pretty much everyone from that era has it. I can’t be the only one who spent an entire semester in a darkened classroom watching movies about nuclear winters, can I? And when I say movies, I mean MOVIES, Tora Tora Tora, The Atomic Cafe, The Day After…lots of them. And the teacher wore fatigues! Ok, maybe we were the only ones but that one semester of eighth grade social studies has trained me to lie in bed at night and fear the worst. It’s bad enough that the kitchen floor is dirty or that the cat box could use a good cleaning or that I may have spilled paint on the counter and forgot to clean it up but then I start to worry about faces melting and ducking and covering and…oh, you get the picture…anyway
3. tossing and turning of husband
4. whirring of fan…why, oh, why don’t we have an air conditioner in the bedroom?
5. That damn bird that has learned how to mimic an alarm clock. SERIOUSLY. And he starts going off around 3 a.m. Bastard.
BUT THAT'S ALL RIGHT, THAT”S O.K. I DON'T NEED SLEEP ANYWAY!
Why? Because I am a TIRED GIRL, that’s right. And the Tired Girls are about ready to take over San Diego once again. And when I say “take over” I pretty much mean sit quietly at our table and talk nice to you when you walk by. But we will be there, at the convention center, from Wednesday night to Sunday evening and we will be peddling our wares. And I don’t mean anything dirty by that…unless you have a lot of money, then we can talk. NO, NO! I keeeed, I keeeed. (Good Lord, can you tell how tired I must really be if I am making prostitiuion jokes?). We’ve got all kinds of cool stuff and most of us are reasonably nice people so please, stop by if you are in the neighborhood, won’t you? Say “HI” to Anna, Jodi, and Sherri…and me too!
And don’t forget to go see our boys at Big Boss. They are super swell and we love them, especially Jason! Stop by his blog for more Comic-Con pimping and see if you don’t get all excited over the geekery.
See you in a week or so!
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