Posts in Hygiene
F for Fran. Plan Fran…
F-R-A-N… That spells, Fran! Yayyyy!That’s how I start every morning. A rousing cheer, followed by a shot of micro-nutrients and a cup of coffee. Rituals are so important.
On this particular morning, I heard my favorite sound in the world — right after the cry of a newborn baby and right before the death-rattle of my enemies — the fax machine. Beep-beep-boop-beep-bip-bope-bop………..whirrrrrrrrrrr
‘Twas our first order from that paper super-power, Paper Source! I grabbed the fax, my coffee and laptop, and headed to the warehouse. I set all three things down in front of me, sat myself down, faced all squarely and said aloud, “Oh, this is nice.”
And to celebrate, I knocked over my coffee cup, spilling its contents all over the fax and into my open laptop.
Luckily, the dog ran in, lapped up the spilled coffee and pooped on the floor.
When is Jen coming home?
One year, the Easter Bunny put a tiny white bunny in our Easter basket. I was sure it was meant for me and not for the other kids that shared my home and parents. An outdoor cage was built and the bunny lived in it until — and my memory gets fuzzy at this point — the bunny went to live with the Easter Bunny again? Yes, I think that’s what happened.
I don’t remember how I got it, but I also had a durable green parakeet. I usually forgot to clean her cage and the droppings rose like stalagmites from the newspaper-covered floor.
We never had a dog, although my grandparent’s dog tried to make me his wife. That was pretty traumatizing.
Last weekend, I was surrounded by six small dogs. I loved it so much, I made a new card:Oh, AND the Important Thing? We got cards into Paper Source. It’s about time you noticed us, you big lug. (Paper Source has 63 shops around the country. Thats 63 x something x $ = $$$$)
I complain about January, but secretly, I love it. In January, my skin returns to its natural pasty-white color. I know this because I disrobe weekly for a quick shower and pat myself down with a damp towel. That’s not true, I also see my bare legs as I change from my pajama pants to my less-pajama-ish pants.
But enough about my enchanting facade, onto the chewy nougat:
Jen has almost finished printing the cards for our March Release.I can’t wait for her to be finished because then we can get back to all of our gabbing.
While I am forced to sit quietly with my own thoughts, I decided to be productive — I made two new cards: Guess which one will become an uncategorized orphan:
Hello, January. I hate you. Not as much as February, but I still hate you. I tell my children that you are full of fun and possibilities but I am lying.
Perhaps this card captures my true feelings:
Winter has been creeping in like a gas leak and I am always pleasantly surprised to find myself awake in the morning.
“That’s nice.” I say, as I stretch and crawl off my sofa-bed. Never one to miss nuance, I wonder why I’m not in my own bed.
Good design sometimes requires getting into character – I’ve been dressing like a gypsy (not showering) for our latest Tanek project. A paper fortune teller is easier to mail than a crystal ball and some might argue – more accurate. Tanek will send 300 of these out to their dearest friends – I only hope they take the responsibility of predicting the future seriously:
Consider the following multi-purpose items:
• Airplane seat cushion —> flotation device
• Pop can —> pipe (for tobacco use only)
• Puppets —> mittens
• Pencil —> weapon
• Mr. Potato Head —> drug mule
• Van —> meth lab
• Goat —> wife
• Human skin —> lampshade, a la Ed Gein
• Ice pick —> lobotomy tool
• Human hair —> dress
The list goes on.
Sometimes an item is designed with a second purpose in mind (Mr. Potato Head) but not always. Congratulations to all the clever folk that breathed new life into an everyday object.
The Zeichen Press mail bags are full of requests for No Solicitors signs. Your requests have not fallen on deaf ears! (Except for you, Anonymous – I can put my own shoes on.)
Greeting cards don’t always fit into a category and that is okay; think of the card as that conversation piece in your living room:
This is a lot of build up for a new card.
Fine, here it is:
I know this is the second Zeichen Press card that references bacon wrapping.
On a recent episode of Hoarders (Monday, 9pm A&E) we witnessed an extra strange living situation: A man (struck by almost immeasurable grief) shared his home with 2,385 domestic rats.
I say that his grief was almost immeasurable because, although he had a great amount of grief, there was an obvious rat to heartache ratio. 2,385 rats : 1 deceased wife.
To see the number of rats in one area was amazing – they poured like water through every possible (and rat-made) nook and cranny. The bottom of every wall and door had been chewed to bits and the floor was lost under a carpet of rat feces.
But in just a few hours, the team trapped and caged the rats, shoveled out the house (why didn’t they just burn it to the ground??) and left the man.
The before was so ridiculous that even the after looked like a pair of soiled underpants.
Another thing: Sometimes I don’t believe the weight-loss/makeover Before & After photographs. It’s hard to know.
Is this transformation even real??
And now, witness the magic of the Zeichen Press warehouse Before & After:
(It’s okay to cry.)
The trees are already half-naked and that reminds me – it’s time to start throwing my end-of-Summer tantrum – it’ll be a doozy.
October has been more cunning (moody) than usual and for that I tip my hat. I never know if I should wear my hot-pants or my Forever Lazy ($29.95).
But did October imagine that I would wear my hot-pants under Forever Lazy?? I think not. I think not.
Speaking of Winter and claustrophobia and lack of space and re-organizing the warehouse:
Yes, reorganizing the warehouse is at the top of my list. Right after:
1) Stare out the window, and 2) Wish someone would bring me coffee.
Because Summer is ending and because I can never have too many awkward locker room situations, I joined a gym. Let me be clear, the other women in the locker room aren’t at all awkward – only me. They undress shamelessly while I wrestle my sports bra off like Houdini. They meander from locker to shower completely nude while I fashion and drape a towel-sari around my body.
(That’s me and Lucy.)
I expect the entire Winter to be a blur of snow and uncomfortable nudity.
Thoughts of this inspired a (birthday?) card:
Being buried alive happens – especially if someone thinks you’re dead. Why be unprepared for such misfortune? I practice digging myself free of the shallow grave by waking from daily, coma-like naps. That, and a spoon in my pocket give me peace of mind.
After I shake the dirt from my hair, I ask myself a series of questions: What time is it? Did I really just stab that woman in the neck with a pencil? Why did I have to use that toilet on the 50 yard line?
Whew! Every day is like a new adventure.
Sometimes my subconscious dreams up a new card and that usually comes out in my post-coma Q&A.
Vulgar! I know. I won’t apologize for ideas that The Lord puts into my head.