There is so much to be hopeful for right now but I worry about hope. It ties into “my narrative of self” (as my therapist calls it) where I feel as though I am not a particularly lucky person. Hello, run over by a truck here! So hope feels like a dangerous thing that is bound to hurt me.
I had my IVF transfer yesterday. Three embryos! With decent ratings. I’m so hopeful, so so hopeful. But this is final round three, and I don’t know if hope is even warranted. 👇 me and my honey all suited up.
Then there’s the art fair that I applied to. It’s very prestigious called the stARTup Art Fair, and open only to artists who aren’t currently represented by any galleries. Since I handle my own sales, I qualify! I submitted early. I’m proud of the work, I sort of have an “in” with one of the judges, I want this and it would be a big thing for me. I’m hopeful. 👇 a piece I submitted
Finally. Finally, (I’m shaking now from writing the scariest most precious things down for you all to read) I’ve been working on a story for 8 years now. It started out as a journal of my pain from my accident and along the way it morphed into a novel about a girl who works in a casino. My editor calls it “chicklit noir” and my other editor, Laurel from Dear Writers scrubbed out all my silly nonsense, tightened it up, and perfected it for me. Now, my first editor, Jay, says we’ll start approaching agents. I feel really good about my story, it’s something different and interesting. But again… too much hope.
So I’m sitting here completely terrified. TERRIFIED. Hope has never treated me kindly before, I don’t know why it would treat me well now. All I can do is bide my time and wait to be punched in the face one way or another. Or all three ways! But still I hope maybe for once everything will go my way.
Does anybody ever actually run out of nail polish?
Today’s bangles: Elsa Peretti X from my dad, red Indian rhinestone bangles from Goodwill, brass and black bangle, strange stretchy metal bracelet, Swarovski crystals now for sale on Chairish.com, tortoise shell bangle.
The other day Nad of HugsXHearts asked me exactly how many bracelets I have. I jokingly answered “ONE MILLION!” But then I started thinking about it. I might actually have one million bracelets. It’s more than a bit obscene. See the pic above? That’s them. About a million seems right, right? Anyway the thing with my collection is most all are gifts (one exception being the albatross ivory bangle). Each has a story and special significance. Most are from my dad and with his death I find even cooking the pasta from his pantry breaks my heart. I am foolishly sentimental with everything so I could never give away or sell any of my collection.
“But Margaret,” you might be saying, “I have definitely seen bracelets on your wrist that are not in that lot of one million bracelets.”
Well, you would be right. When I buy myself a bracelet (most always second hand) it is with the knowledge that I am the temporary guardian of it. It’s the capitalist in me, I suppose. I buy books with the intent to sell them back to the second hand store. Ditto clothing. Ditto jewelry. The great thing with owning a store, I can sell these items more easily than most people.
Also with a collection it somehow feels like cheating to just go out and buy an item. That makes it too easy. I have maybe 3 Hermes bangles that I bought for myself. Those 3 leave me with an empty feeling because there is no story to them.
Do you have a collection? What does it mean to you? How do you go about adding to it? I know Nad’s got some rings galore.
Today was the day where the doctors visited the hen house and harvested all the eggs. Six! Which is big for me and I was expecting just four. Needless to say I spent today knocked out, ate a burrito, napped, folded laundry, now we’re watching TV with the dogs. My honey told me I was talking to the anesthesiologists about Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Robin! This is your fault!) then sang along to Blank Space (and Dora! That’s on you). It must be great to be an anesthesiologist.
So I think I mentioned a couple times in passing how I’m now listing jewelry on Chairish.com. Like the Rhodonite bangles in the above photo (the dark rose colored ones) and so I thought I’d tell you guys that I’m a terrible negotiator. Chairish has a “make an offer” option and, hypothetically, if anybody likes the things I’ve listed on there? Well, make me an offer. It’s not that I “can’t” refuse so much as I pretty much “don’t” refuse. I am so lucky my dating life is long over.
Today’s bangles: Rhodonite bangles (coming soon to my Chairish.com listing, the last Hermes bangle from my dad, and two horn bangles.
And yes, my two dogs are back there hiding from the BIG NAUGHTY DOG.
Like literally. A female dog is my big problem today.
We’re dog watching a cute (?) shepard/collie mix this weekend. She is sweet, soft, loving, big, hungry for Leroy, and pulls on leashes. That’s right, she wants to eat Leroy.
Leroy looks like this ring to begin with, so it’s not a far stretch that someone would decide to try to eat him. I almost do on a daily basis because he’s pretty darn cute. But this is not cool. Two attempts now at eating him. NOT COOL, BIG DOG.
So the original plan was leave all the doggies at home today, since both my husband and I are working. But now we can’t leave her with Leroy. And Bandit & Leroy are a unit, so next solution? Bring them to the shop, leave BIG NAUGHTY DOG at our place.
EXCEPT. We left her by herself for 15 minutes and she got on the dining table. Ate an ink pad and knocked stuff off the table. I think that was the order of events. So now, Aaron drove her over to my shop, with the baby gate, and she’s trapped in my back room. Because she still must be separated from Leroy and Bandit. Not to mention, if she’s acting this way with my dogs? What might she do to a customer’s dog?? She’s back there now. CRYING. “Why?” She cries, “why do you punish me? Leroy looks so tasty, can you blame me?”
My apologies in advance. I have this stupid digital camera at my shop so I figured “what the heck, I’ll give you all some more of my face.” Then I filmed myself with something sticking me in the eye.
Here’s the basic script for those who can’t watch videos:
-Something sticks me in the eye (probably my own bangs)
-Long shot of my collarbone as I fumble with the off switch
Just call me Maya Deren already and give me an Oscar. Side note, did Maya Deren ever get an Oscar? Also, I’m selling two of the bracelets on Chairish.com. The rhinestone bangle here and the turquoise and pink pearl one here
Lately I’ve been thinking about the liking of comments etiquette on WordPress. I don’t know about you all, but my process is to read a post, and only if I like it I do I then “like” it. I’m discriminating with my likes.
But when it comes to comment likes? No holds barred. I like them all across the board. It’s maybe a politeness thing, a sort of ‘thank you for replying I will now reward you with a like’, right? But so, why do they offer this feature if we all are sitting around in a like circle jerk? Was that too graphic? Did I just lose out on your like?
Don’t get me wrong, my likes make me happy and I appreciate both giving and receiving the likes. But I’m just wondering what it means if it’s so easy to dispense. Is there any value to a comment like?
You guys? I made a mistake. I did not do Buffy a proper justice in yesterday’s post. I’m regretting my actions! Because I was so busy bragging about my relationship with The Walking Dead I completely neglected my most favorite show even though the post was intended to be all about Buffy. As the Beach Boys say, it wouldn’t be right to leave your best girl home on a Saturday night. Which has something to do with something.
Maybe I’m a little embarrassed as to the extent of my fan-ishness? It encompasses all the comics as well as following Sarah Michelle Gellar on twitter. Who is super funny. I feel like a creeper admitting this. I read Buffy fanfiction. That is officially my deepest darkest secret. DON’T JUDGE ME!
I even have a Buffy fanfiction plot idea which is TOP SECRET but Cee and Dora will be glad to know it’s Spike based.
I suppose there are further depths to fall in the Buffy abyss. I could go to a panel or something. Or tattoo “what the what” across my forehead. Fortunately my life is not quite at that point. Yet. But I am on the BTVS call list at my local comic book store Comix Experience which is in and of itself mortifying.
So today’s Buffy question is circa season 4: When Spike (spoiler) escapes the Initiative, he already has the chip, how is he able to punch the various scientists and soldiers during the escape? Not even two minutes later in the episode he attacks Willow and clutches at his head in pain. What the what.