Archive for November, 2015

Yeah. Happy. That was nearly two weeks ago. But yes, somewhat happy – I avoided being sung at.

I get pensive around my birthday. Maybe a bit listless. It coincides with a pretty major shift in season. It is considerably cooler than it was just a couple of weeks before, leaves are swirling around and it’s about to get really cold and I’m about to be annoyed by pre-adolescent children scream-singing Christmas carols on my TV. I’ve come to prefer life with the TV set off. Unless my soaps or Superjail or Rick and Morty are on.

Birthday booty!


My very own copy of Animal Speak by Ted Andrews from Mom
A great little tin  (the reverse states “profanity makes talking fun”, a sequined coin purse and a starbucks gift card from my sister
A bottle of Opium (new version) from my husband


So, hmm, let’s go ahead and be pensive. After all these years on earth, what have I figured out? One major thing: you’re never too old to be embarrassed by your mother.

When I was growing up, Mom and Dad told me lots of stuff that turned out to be true, things I couldn’t fully appreciate until I was older. One thing I clearly remember is a plaque Mom had on her wall. I repeatedly asked her what it said and she would patiently read it out loud to me every time. It had a small metal dove attached to it, and it read: “If you love something, set it free. If it comes back to you, it’s yours. If it does not, it was never meant to be.” I also clearly remember Mom getting after me when I tried to pull the dove off of the plaque for some mysterious 4-year-old reason. Welp, the catholics couldn’t get the fear of god into me, but what was printed onto that plaque ended up being words I live by. Every time I punt Nelson out into the yard with fingers crossed that he’ll wander off real permanent-like, he’s on the back deck an hour or so later, meep-peeping his stripey self right back into my house… and my heart. Blah. (lol, just kidding, mostly, I haven’t done that in a long time.)

I also figured out that what makes people so different, yet so much the same, are the challenges, tragedies and joys life presents us with. We all have them. The way we react to them is how we differ. Even where the little things are concerned. My stripey boy cats lounging on the futon and watching Squidbillies could be an “aww, cute, shriek, applause, followed by nom-nom kisses on stripey foreheads” moment or a “get your hairy asses off of my precious furniture” moment. I’m sure you can guess how I handle that – nom-nom kisses abound at my house. If you have cats, nothing stays precious for any length of time longer than it takes for them to hark a hairball up onto it.


Riker: “Captain! There’s a gargantuan hairball in the freezer cartridge aboard the Flibbertigibbet spacecraft!” Picard: “Whaaa???” Data: “The Flibbertigibbets must have stealthily transported Spot with one of their thingamajigs. And I was not aware of it.” Worf, way back there: “If they ever find out it was me I’ll surely die of (insert Klingon word for embarrassment.)”

There’s an episode of Star Trek Next Generation that sticks out in my mind: Captain Picard suffers an attack while out on a mission. His bionic heart stops and he dies. Q (don’t you love Q episodes!?) is in charge of the afterlife, much to Picard’s chagrin, and informs him that he had died minutes earlier. Q guides Picard through the cornerstone moments of his life, offering him opportunities to change how he handled those particular situations. Picard accepts; rather than taking the risks he took the first time around, he played it safe. Picard eventually finds himself in the present, but as a low-ranking underachiever. Picard determined that he didn’t want to die as this man he could have been, but as the man he truly was. Picard asks Q to reverse these changes and Q obliges. After his bionic heart is reactivated and he’s had some time to recover, Picard speaks with Riker and says:

“There are many parts of my youth that I’m not proud of… there were loose threads… untidy parts of me that I would like to remove. But when I pulled on one of those threads… it unraveled the tapestry of my life.

The right thing isn’t always the easiest or most obvious thing. The safe thing isn’t always the right thing, and the right thing for you may not be the right thing for someone else. Just be you. But know that just being you sometimes requires more gumption and strength than you could have ever imagined. (This is a conglomeration of past and recent quotes from my mother. Who, by the way, drives me kinda bonkers sometimes, but has given me some of the most valuable advice and friendship I have ever received. Plus, she’s hilarious. Her response to an archaically sexist comment made recently: “Which corner of your fifteenth century ass did you pull that one out of?”)


I’ve been making lots of beads and bon-bons in preparation for a Superstars sale at the very beginning of December – December 3rd, to be exact, if all goes well. The holidays throw a wrench into my sale schedule, but this will give me an extra week to hopefully make some extra special doodads. I’ll keep you posted. Here’s a teensy glimpse of what’s to come:


Pumpkin Freaking Spice. Yeah. We know you’re sick to death of it. And now we’re putting it in your BEADS.


By the way, there’s this great essay, Safety And The Lizard Brain by a guy named Al Turtle. This is a relatively short but insightful read – it’s humorously and conversationally written in a way that could assist almost anyone in getting in touch with their lizard brain. Anyway, one thing Al mentions is the fact that play is very important in keeping your lizard brain feeling happy and safe. Creative work that you don’t get paid for is considered play, so I decided to make a couple of necklaces for myself with this fabulous tourmilated quartz I’ve been collecting for the last couple of years:




The choker is made with tourmilated quartz, hill tribe silver and snowflake obsidian. The longer one is made from wire-wrapped antique lead crystal (I’m pretty sure it’s lead crystal because of its weight and sparkle) and some newer faceted quartz, plus more tourmilated quartz and one of my glitterbombs stuffed full of white seed beads and confetti style silver glitter. I’ve received many compliments on these, particularly the glitterbomb necklace – and I guess my lizard brain feels better for it. It’s buried so deep in my brain that I can’t be sure if it does or doesn’t. Perhaps I should make more, this time for profit. That would please my regular brain just fine.

Thanks for reading… smell you guys later. More updates to come.

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