Blog - Loretta

Loretta modeled the gift we got for #oldestintern (to make sure it felt festive) and it sat under the tree until yesterday because she says her pipes froze.

Maybe Loretta can wear two of those Christmas stockings. 

We still have one present under the tree and if the recipient doesn’t claim it soon I’ll just have to keep it for myself. #MERRYCHRISTMAS

Loretta has come such a long way – from an unnamed fetus to sorting wood type.

I doubt she even remembers special moments we shared…

I told her that being my Foot-Twin means she has a lot to live up to and she told me I was crazy. WHATEVER, LORETTA.

While Jen puts her to work in the shop, I’m going to spend the next few weeks admiring my own feet and designing new astrology cards. WHO’S CRAZY NOW, LORETTA??

It only took a few minutes to have a mole removed last week (my chest tube scar needed a BFF) and I texted Jen when it was done, exclaiming my relief at the speediness of the procedure.

She told me that that was the easy part.

That’s the way our relationship works — I get my head all full of smells of burnt flesh and joy, and Jen tethers my helium balloon to the doorknob.

It works. IT WORKS.

It’s time, once again, to print cards for the new release.

Choosing a corresponding envelope color can be difficult, and when Lucy or Loretta are unavailable we use another neutral third party.See how intense she is?

SETTLE DOWN, DINAH.

PS: You know we didn’t win Martha’s American Made Award competition. Stop asking.

Don’t you hate looking at photographs when you’re not in them?

Me too!

Oh, and I made this for my gals.

No, no… don’t worry about me — I’m fine! I actually enjoy imagining exotic travel. Who needs all of that packing and jet-lag… and those language barriers?… No thanks!

Jen is (still) in Turkey

(is she ever coming home??) and I am here.

See how I put my feet in the picture so that you can tell that I’m REALLY here?

My daydreams are broken only by Tib the Cat.And the other inmates’ bickering.

But shouldn’t I embrace this opportunity during Lent for self-denial?

FINE.

An ANTfestation in the shop required aggressive use of insecticide. Two waves of spray-on poison were needed to completely wipe out the colony hiding behind the Great Wall Of Cards.We murdered thousands of antsbefore Jen and I had an important meeting to decide which cards should be included in our next release.

Wait, after the genocide, but before the important meeting, Classic Pam got ahold of another baby rabbit. (See blog post: Fear and Dread) There was some backyard bedlam involving the dog and five kids chasing the cat… I got caught up in the chase but ended up somehow kicking the hopping baby rabbit. Don’t ask me how that happened.

DON’T ASK.

And without further adieu… the moment you’ve all been waiting for… OUR… NEW… CARDS!!!

I finished scrubbing coagulated (cow) blood off the walls of the refrigerator (who stands a raw rump-roast on its side with no plate below?!) just in time for an important meeting.

The Chief Financial Officer, the Chief Accounting Officer, the Chief Content Officer, the Chief Creative Officer, the Chief Visionary Officer AND Loretta

were all in attendance.

The purpose of this conference was to discuss the profitability and potential of a particular product. Were projected earnings delivered? Could a product redesign garner a higher margin of sales?

In other words, we picked some new colors for an existing card because we felt like maybe the card would do better if the colors were a little punchier.

Pat Carney stumbled into our dimension on Friday for the Gute photo shoot.

Edmund made latte after latte while Loretta babbled in the background. We think she was talking about Pam the kitten/her prisoner. Anyway, I had to punch Pat in the face to get one latte away from him for a prop. He took it like a man. Except for the tears.

I didn’t even ask Jen how she got all these boxes for New Zealand

to the post office. Maybe Henry the Dog helped her. Or Loretta, she’s pretty strong. I couldn’t help anyway because I was busy taking a sponge bath. Andrea says sponge baths are for 80-year-olds but I’d like to see an 80-year-old get into my kitchen sink.

No, I wouldn’t. 

The hot-water-heater decided it was time to rust through and I don’t blame it a bit. It really is the most boring household appliance. If it were a person, I’d hate it.

So, I boiled some water on the stove for my bath and as I squatted in it, I thought to myself, “I wish I had curtains on my windows.” and “Is this funny or sad?” I decided it was funny but only because the new hot-water-heater is coming on Monday.

I guess writing this blog FOR TWO YEARS means I’m a writer. Or something like that. I’m going to put on hospital scrubs and walk around HCMC for a couple of years – I’ve heard that doctors make more money than me and I’d like to change that.

Loretta already gets it – she’s a princess.