Mem-or-eeees - Tortured Soul

This blog turned three yesterday. If I weren’t so self-involved, I would have sent it a card and filled a piñata with entrails. But today, to celebrate, I invited the squirrel into my kitchen

to share an avocado and sat in someone’s urine on a concrete bench. It’s sinful to be jealous of my charmed life.

Jen and I have trashed our share of hotel rooms. Dangled from our share of balconies. Saddled our share of large-scale dogs. Roped our share of ferrel cats. But Monday night, while hanging out the back of a speeding pick-up truck, her hair covered in vomit, Jen turned to me and said, “Thank God for our fans. If it weren’t for them, I don’t know how I’d go on.” My response could barely be heard through a mouthful of cotton-candy, “Especially Andy Schefman. Especially Andy Schefman…”

I regret not jumping into Lake Superior last week. I’m kidding, I don’t regret that. I regret not pushing that weird guy into Lake Superior last week. He was yelling, “the effing dog ate my pills! The effing dog ate my pills!” That poor wiener dog was trying to end its own sad life. Anyway, here’s a photo of Lucy and Jenny braving the frigid waters:

Lake Superior is the poor man’s ocean, just like my Reprex

(notice the vice grips)

is the poor man’s Vandercook.

But I must make do.

I must make do because that’s how I was programmed. The project du jour is a print involving lots of words. And because I’m a daredevil, I decided to lock up the type in a vertical formation. This is not for the faint of heart. The type and I both felt creepy when it was over and now we can’t even make eye contact.

Melissa Peterman and George Keller turned a hot, mosquito-filled night in the Zeichen Press backyard into something magical.

I have noticed that a lot of people around me have “plans” and “schedules.” That is something I’ve always wanted. Even my days of “working outside of the home” seemed haphazardous. I never knew if or how I’d get to work – would it be the city bus? My friend’s pick-up truck? A ride from a stranger? On foot? A police escort? Would I be able to pull-off a cup of coffee before work? Everyone talked about that – the coffee. “Whew, I barely had time for my coffee this morning, the dog just wouldn’t do his business!” They had coffee pots with timers – they’d wake up to the smell and sound of a fresh brewing pot. They’d fill their travel mugs and commute to work.

Why couldn’t I be like these people?

My snooze button (invented by the devil) would be pushed at least twice, granting me temporary amnesty – more time to dream about using inappropriately located toilets. A shower could happen but more than likely would not. Teeth brushed just in time to smoke a cigarette and tie my son’s shoes.

I know what you’re thinking: Glamorous.

A few weeks ago, I started doing the unthinkable: Waking up early and not forcing myself to fall back to sleep.

I actually get out of bed.

I get out of bed, make a smoothie filled with micro-nutrients and whole-food concentrate and go for a bike ride. It seems that other people DO THIS TOO. The paths are full of “others.”

I haven’t decided if I hate myself for being one of these people. Time will tell.

Anyway, number 7 of the Shea 8 will be getting married this Summer and she needed a program – I gladly volunteered and these were created yesterday:

They will contain a disc of music from the ceremony. Understated and cool. Just like my sister. Notice my crummy thumbnail in the upper-left.

Okay, onto something pretty serious.

Kittens.

Watch:

The swarm of bees came at me like a swarm of bees and stuck their stingers efficiently into my face and left arm. 

The disfigurement that followed was sideshow-worthy and while I’m as eager as the next gal to take the show on the road, I knew this hideousness was only (sadly) temporary.

My forearm doubled in size and I considered tattooing an anchor on it a la Popeye (the sailor man).

Don’t worry, a can of Raid was emptied into their home/my trellis/the doorway to the shop. I’ll be getting back to work as soon as this Benedryl wears off.

The customs official demanded we tell him our plans while in Toronto. I told him it was none of his business, and as I reached for the silver cigarette case in my coat pocket, I was wrestled to the ground. The tasers saved me a trip to the bathroom.

Thank God my husband speaks Canadian or we’d still be in the interrogation room.

I should have told that official that my plans were to watch t.v. in my bathroom mirror while soaking in the tub. I think that’s what I did? My head still hurts pretty bad from being banged on the terrazzo.

Like Dora the Explorer, I packed a map and a monkey in my backpack, finished my screwdriver, and headed out.

Using the handy Where To Buy page as a guide, I was able to track down three local stores that carry Zeichen Press goods. Needless to say, my reception was overwhelming – being hoisted up on shoulders and paraded down Queen Street was too much. Do you hear me, shopkeepers??

°°°

First shop: Outer Layer, a cheerful boutique. Full of fun and, dare I say, whimsy? No. I’ll never say that again.

But how else could I describe a doll that is also a cheese grater?

Or the Ann Taintor magnet collection on the antique bank safe?

Or a manager named Jett Black???

°°°

On to Shop #2: Valhalla Cards & Gifts:

This shop felt like everything in it was curated by a man named Chadwick. Wait, it was! From the Dumpling Dynasty Bunny Kit:

To the Unicorn Wishes action figure:

This shop wouldn’t let me leave – Chadwick finally had to throw me out. But not before he placed an order for more cards.

°°°

Okay, onto #3: The Paper Place:

Because paper is my bread & butter, I felt extra reverent crossing the threshold. As I knelt before the card rack, something inside me said, “hey! I wonder if this place has erasers shaped like peanuts.”

And it did! I bought the whole bowl.

I hugged the sock zebra before I left. It was time to go. I knew this because I saw the policeman walking through the door.

Until we meet again, Toronto. Until we meet again.

On the back of the Atari 2600 there was a difficulty switch. “A” was normal but “B” made dragons move impossibly fast

and shrunk trampolines.

Flipping the switch meant a game had been mastered. Mastered.

Those were simpler times.

I opened the door to the shop last night and was greeted by an avalanche of bicycles. Two of them had no kickstands and were tangled with the lawn mower. I would have moved the mower and bikes easily but I was blocked by a giant roll of bubble-wrap.

I wonder if the interns that emailed looking for work have any idea my days contain such physical obstacles.

I almost forgot why I even went into the shop… It wasn’t to get bruises and swear – was it? No! I needed to lay out some new Mother’s Day cards!

I had to set my type by candlelight because the lightbulb burned out over the big cabinet and I couldn’t replace it without using the ladder that was wedged between the weed-wacker and the card-carousel.

Sooo…

I could tell Winter was over when my gutter broke and rain poured into the basement, soaking the carpet.  Thank goodness we love damp and smelly rooms or we’d be super mad. Another sign of Spring: I found Classic Pam (the kitten) under the tree in the backyard trying to act adorable. When will she realize that we only kept her because we felt sorry for her?

So sad.

These events inspired a new card. Perfect for a birthday?

It was only a matter of time because we were standing outside their office.

METRO home is a new special section in METRO. The cover of this months issue is intriguing and frightening. It might be a photograph of a bedroom/torture chamber. What’s behind those curtains?Yikes! This room comes with shackles and nightmares.

Urban Living Manifesto sounds really serious. Do people really take themselves that seriously?? Two words for them: settle. down.

Oh, but here’s something cheerful – it’s about Zeichen Press:
Those Room & Board prints were sure worth all of the sweat I dripped on them last Summer!