“It has been my experience that folks who have no vices have very few virtues.”
once you take a few days off…
it’s so hard to get back on the horse…
We have a new website up at Artsy Geek. You see, we’ve grown a lot over the past few months. We needed a new site to better showcase our many merits and, you know, turn visitors into loyal, happy customers.
That’s the goal anyway. If I had known what lay ahead when I had started this business with the intent to grow it, I don’t know that I would have ever taken the plunge. It is a constant adventure, emotional roller coaster and, always, a learning experience.
Despite the constant challenge and struggle of the present, I know I am so lucky to have the support and community of coworkers. Almost instantly I went from one and a half full-time workers to over four! And I work closely and well with people I not only admire but adore.
I’m noticing that with this new support, I feel like I can finally breathe. Maybe I can make it to pilates or the pool once a week (exercise!) and relax in the evenings. Maybe I can keep up with all the bursts of inspiration I’m itching to share on this site.
Maybe I can catch up on my personal email…sadly, sadly neglected for many months.
A bitter inner glance wonders, ‘What kind of person avoids responding to wonderful emails from the people in her life she loves??’
‘Shhh’ I try to remember to say. ‘You’re doing your best.’
As Morissey says, “It takes strength to be gentle and kind.”
This is my constant lesson. Today I am catching up. Last weekend I took some time and camped. Took some time for me. It was time.
I have high hopes of keeping up with everything better being the perfectionist that I am. Perhaps instead I will choose to have high hopes for accepting that I will fall down again…and to try to pick myself back up in a more understanding manner.
We live to dream, don’t we?
The boyfriend is always piling stuff on poor Guster and then demanding that I take a photo. What good are those photos if not for sharing with you?
If you know me (or follow this blog), you know I love karaoke. We go a few times a year to the Shattuck Down Low on Tuesday nights. It’s pretty much the highlight of my life.
I have tried to win their Valentine’s Day and Halloween Karaoke Contests for years. Awhile ago they started a contest every Tuesday where you could win a $50 bar tab by being awesome.
About a week ago I decided I was finally going to perform my favorite karaoke song of all, Pulp’s This is Hardcore.
I had performed it at Jenfest 2007 to much fanfare, but never for an audience of strangers. It’s one of my favorite karaoke songs because I love the song and it’s super long…which means more time with the microphone. #ilovemicrophones
There’s one major reason it’s not ideal: It’s basically about the making of a porno film. I love it for it’s drama and intrigue, but not necessarily the subject matter. Yet, I had decided that I was finally going to throw caution to the wind and sing it…
And then I chickened out, choosing my staple, Talking in Your Sleep by the Romantics, for my first song. It was a truly dissatisfying karaoke experience.A gin and tonic later, and I was ready. I went for it. My love for the song took over any question that this was an inadvisable song to choose and pure joy overcame me.
No wonder they picked me to win. Though the emcee claimed I won to reward my courage to sing such a naughty song so well. Whatever it was, I sleep soundly now that one of my life goals has been achieved.
A good day, I’d say. Continue Reading
They make your fingers all sticky and they’re really hard to eat at your desk when you’re busy working your way through your lunch break.*
Also, if you’re going to cut them in half before cooking, clear out all those little hairs. Otherwise they get all over all the leaves and in your mouth and it’s a lot like licking a cat.**
Lastly, I’ve had artichokes with melted butter, I’ve had them with mayo. But my favorite dipping sauce remains mayo mixed with a bit of curry. What’s yours? Continue Reading
Poor Smitty is a clean guy, like me. He likes his house clean and his sink empty of dirty dishes.
Back when he was just discovering that about himself, he lived with a number of men who didn’t feel the same way.
No, they liked to leave food all over the place to rot and piled the sink to high heaven with dishes.
Smitty tried to get them to clean up after themselves. Or so he said, anyway.
And then one day, he wanted to make an egg. Such a simple desire! But there was not a clean plate or pan to be found.
He flew off the handle. He grabbed a few dirty dishes from the sink and started pelting their doors with them. It felt pretty good, so he continued until there was not a whole plate to be found.
Though he didn’t ever get his egg, he made sure that those roommates wouldn’t be leaving any more dirty dishes around the house. Continue Reading
Friend of the blog Lauren recounts her worst roommate situation.
A Cat with 50% Accuracy Meets His Match
“I had to move out of the house I loved because my roommate decided to move in his girlfriend and her cat. The problem was we already had a cat with 50% litterbox accuracy.
“My roommate who owned the cat (the same one who decided to move in his gf) decided that instead of cleaning litter boxes more frequently he would just buy more litter boxes. When he did get around to cleaning these boxes he would often leave bags of cat shit sitting in the house. During the summer things really reeked. The thought of having another cat was too much to handle.
“When I raised my concerns, he pointed it out he was the primary lease holder. Dick. Then the girlfriend moves in, she puts all her shit in the living room, not just suit cases but mannequins and sewing machines. It was particularly creepy when I would go downstairs half asleep to see a bunch of mannequins in the living room.
“The first few days I didn’t say anything about the piles of shit in the living room. When I finally moved all her shit to one spot in the living room she said “thank you”. Not “thank you I’ll really need to clean this up right?”.
“After a week I wrote a nice email saying we needed to find a place to store all her shit, offering suggestions and how to get rid of stuff in the common downstairs closet. Her boyfriend and I spent about two hours putting her shit away as she sat there.
“Then the unholy messes left in the kitchen began. The cats were constantly fighting and hair rolled through the house like so many tumbleweeds.