Posts in Tortured Soul
I am still focused on birthday cards every day but
I make time to obsessively google Novara Big Buzz Bike. Oh, I’ll find one. MARK MY WORDS. When Pam the Cat got smashed by a car, I looked to Craigslist for another kitten to fill the cat-hole-sized space in my heart — enter: Tib.
Different than being raised from the dead (a la Lazarus
or Gage from Pet Semetary – a book I didn’t whip across the room in the middle of the night, circa 1988. Just kidding, I did whip it across the room, circa 1988.) Thanks to Craigslist, bikes and cats can be replaced!
I don’t always (usually) (ever?) do what I’m told but when our New England rep said she wanted MORE BIRTHDAY CARDS and less Freaktastic,
I said, FINE. After crying myself to sleep, I woke up and made this:
I HOPE YOU’RE HAPPY, PAM.
When I need to know what month it is I just observe the animals around me. Simple!
HANG IN THERE, TIB – only 25 days till April!
Jen and The Intern and I are taking a break from a heated discussion about which cards should be dumped and which cards should be spared. Decisions like this require heartlessness and detachment. I don’t even care because I replaced my heart with an alligator’s heart. (COLD BLOODED.) I threw the dumped cards in the alley just to prove how much I didn’t care.
(That’s one of the dumped cards and I STILL DON’T EVEN CARE.)
I already moved on.
Oh, I KID! I love hearing the signs of Spring! Cawing crow and distant chainsaw, I HEAR YOU. I also see the sun setting later, like it’s November, BUT IT ISN’T. If Winter were actually a six-month marathon, I’d shove so much grain-free chips and guacamole in my fanny pack, stock my running-bandolier with a variety of hydration gels and, ONCE AGAIN, salute the outdoors for being a worthy adversary.
But that’s silly! Guacamole would turn brown and my chips would get stale! I will just stream movies, write cards, and fashion the hair I pull off my sweater into a wreath.
How could my mom have known when I was born I’d spend so much time trying to get Martha Stewart‘s attention?
And so little time in the space program?? Silly mom! Didn’t she know that Martha’s career as a stockbroker was about to be traded for a career in the catering business? And that I would hate wearing helmets??
I do challenge Martha to prepare a fennel and smoked salmon salad in zero-gravity while I set my lead type to create a greeting card for the disadvantaged masses.
HOW ABOUT IT, MARTHA??
I scream that repeatedly the morning after a substantial snowfall – it’s really helpful and my family appreciates it so much.
When I’m done warning everyone on my block, I always feel inspired:
Don’t you hate when your Mom recommends movies crammed with compound fractures and skull-stomping
and you can only salvage your emotional health by writing/designing a Valentine’s Day card?
Is it wrong that I was more concerned about getting a good photograph of today’s event than of my house being engulfed in flames?
And why was the fireman so happy?
I guess he just loves the outdoors as much as I do! -12° makes me smile and laugh, too — and I’m not even a sociopath!
After the smoke cleared (LITERALLY), I made a Valentine’s Day card and called 911 to give it to him:
I wish I had a vintage Christmas tree stand that rotated and played music.
JUST KIDDING! I do! That music-box music fills me with Peace n’ Joy so I don’t freak out on Sears Customer Service for not hauling away my old appliances. JUST KIDDING! I still freaked out on them!
(24) YEARS ago (and a couple weeks before Christmas) my friend asked me how much I loved ornaments for the tree. I told her that I DIDN’T love ornaments for the tree. I just liked strings of lights. And MAYBE those glass balls.
She tried to talk me into loving them, but I insisted that I did not. Fast forward to Christmas Day, and under my nearly-naked tree, she had placed a giant box filled with ornaments that she had lovingly gathered over the year. Let me repeat that last part: THAT SHE HAD LOVINGLY GATHERED OVER THE YEAR.
Am I the worst friend ever? MAYBE. One more thing: I also forgot her birthday a couple years later. WHY IS SHE STILL FRIENDS WITH ME??
Shhh… Forget that story and observe Tib hating Dinah for sitting in her chair:
ALSO, here’s a Christmas card I made after I was done yelling at Sears:
I’ve already not been murdered by a Craigslist poster selling firewood and done (most) of my Christmas Shopping via Amazon. If I were born 50 years earlier my house would be freezing and my kids would cry hearty tears on Christmas Morning. I can only praise newborn baby Jesus for my easy-peasy life. (Sorry that when He grew up He had to be tortured and die and stuff.)
ANYWAY, the fire is roaring and UPS is delivering whatever my warm-ish heart desires. Isn’t that what this Season is all about?? Between my online-obsession and stoking the fire, I channeled some important words spoken by the Virgin Mary: