Cold Day In July

But first, old business:
Someone named Matt at emailed me with a BOMB ASS design for my back, so he got to pick one prize and he went with the necklace, for his wife, because he's awesome like that, and do you want to see what he came up with? Too bad. Sneak peeks are all you get today.


And then I spent more time on Randomizer tonight than Janis Joplin spent on heroin, and I came up with two for jewelry entries and one for tattoo gift certificate entires. I deleted all the multiple entries, because tsk tsk, and in the end it spit these names back at me, which you can click to make bigger if you must.

Beyond 14thTattoo Factory

And then I did it again, because someone was winning a $50 gc to Tattoo Factory, and this is what it gave me.


So, Janet, Matt and Island Mummy, email Lu at Below 14th and let her know what you'd like and Schmutzie, you've got $50 to play with at Tattoo Factory, and Lu and Amy from My Ladybug Picnic, you each have $25 to blow. Email Paul at Tattoo Factory to set up your appointments; he'll be expecting you. For everyone else, we all still get 20% off tattoos and piercings, and a shitload of other fun stuff. I'll be there for what looks like, um, forever, so I'll probably see you. And I may need vicodin. Also, my mommy.

And now, new business:

I really like to fish, and I always have. There's something about the mixture of me, sunshine, a fine line, total silence and all the time in the world that makes me truly, perfectly happy. I could do nothing but fish all day long, and I could catch absolutely nothing, and I'd live happily ever after. I don't need the best equipment, or the biggest boat, I just need a stick and some string and a little jar of powerbait and I'm good to go. Because nothing works better than powerbait, nothing.

I've always wanted to try fly fishing, but there's something about it that strikes me as overly-romantic, and though I've had one solid offer in my life to go learn how to do it with someone, that someone failed in every way to come through on that offer and I really don't want to do it myself, so I've given up on that idea. I've also wanted to try ice-fishing, maybe just once, but good lord it's so complicated and time-consuming and, well, cold. I hate being left out in the cold, especially by my own doing. So I don't.

I did, once, wander out onto a frozen lake with an auger in my hand just to see what a little tap on the ice would do. I knelt on a sheet of ice that I wasn't entirely sure would hold my own weight and I looked down through the ice to the waters below. I kept seeing this fish darting past me, under and back around and under again, almost like it was daring me to catch it. I watched that fish for a long time before I realized I was just in way over my head and that I needed some help if I was going to do it right.

And on my way home, someone stopped and offered to help me. Without me asking or anything, just like it was fate that we met. And I haven't taken that person up on the offer just yet, but I've been thinking about it. A lot.

The longer I wait, the more clearly I can see exactly how I'm going to crack that ice open and get my rod in there and catch that son-of-a-bitch. I think I know how to catch him, I just need to try. I want to try. I'm ready to try. And so, I'm going to try. 

It's something new, something out of the comfort zone I've created for myself with my little hobby I've developed over the entire course of my life. The way I like to fish, it's easy. It's brainless. It's as comforting as my evening tea and as safe as my favorite blanket, the one my grandmother left to me when she died, the one that I can hide away from the world in when I have to. I've come to rely on my trips to the lake, all by myself, away from the things of man, and I'm starting to let the ease of what I know I can do so effortlessly rob me of the chance to do something a little bigger, a little harder and a little more satisfying in the end. And it's not like I'm getting any younger or anything. My knees don't bend like they used to and my fingers get all stiff in the cold and if I don't do this now, I don't know if I ever will.

And so, I'm going to do it now. I'm going to run away for the month of July, because really...if I'm going to hack away at a bunch of old, frozen water, July sounds like the most agreeable time to attempt it. I'm going to run away and I'm going to take a whack at that ice. I'm not taking my eye off that fucking fish under that sheet of ice for an entire month, and with a little help and a lot of encouragement, I'm either going to come back with dinner or frostbite.

But at least I'll know. At least I will have tried.

Until August, my friends; until August.

The End Of Innocence

Five Star Friday
I didn't celebrate holidays when I was little, so when I had kids, I didn't really know how to do the whole "mythically endearing lies" thing.  Because of this, I did what any self-respecting mother would do; I made a bunch of shit up.
When a tooth is lost in our house, we all go outside after our jammies are on, find a star and make a wish on it.  It goes something like this:
Starlight, starbright,

First star I see tonight;

I wish I may, I wish I might

Have this wish I wish tonight.

(and then you look at your star and everyone in the family says:)

I wish the tooth fairy would come and take my/my brother's tooth tonight!

Cheesy, yes.  But they love it.  It's kind of a big deal around here.  No one EVER misses making a wish to the tooth fairy.  So tonight, when we stood outside and wished for her to come get 2of3's tooth, I was honestly a little shocked that I had to elbow 1of3 to get him to wish with us.  He gave me some shitty little tweeny grin, and got with the program.

Tonight, I was tucking 2of3 in and we made sure the tooth was all snug in it's place, when he said to me, "1of3 said there isn't a tooth fairy."

Oh, I'm going to kill that motherfucker.

"Reeeeeeealy.  What ELSE did he say?"

"He said that it was YOU GUYS."

He is grounded until he retires.

"Tell me, why does he think that?"

"He said that he found a box full of TEETH."

Which is totally creepy in a serial killer trophy sort of way, yes.

"Well, remember how you wanted to go to the corner store today and I had NO MONEY? "


"And do you expect a $5 bill under your pillow in the morning?"


"Do I have a $5 bill?"



"So, I guess there really IS a tooth fairy!"

And the clouds parted, and the angels sang.  And then I marched my ass downstairs.

"Son, tell me about this Tooth Fairy thing."

"Maaaawm.  I'm not dumb.  I know it's you."

"DO tell."

"I was looking for my GameBoy, and I found a box that had ALL of my old teeth in it."

Goddamn sonofabitch stupid fucking box I should have hid with the cleaning supplies.  He'd NEVER have looked THERE.

"Well,"  I chocked, "well, son.  You know I don't have any money right now, so when there is a $5 bill under your brother's pillow tomorrow, you're going to feel mighty dumb, aren't you?"


"Did it ever occur to you that I have a DEAL with the tooth fairy?  That I love every one of those little baby teeth, and that we worked out an arrangement?"


"Well, maybe you should think before you start saying things like that, Mr I Currently Have 2 Loose Teeth."

"That's all you had to say, MAAAAWM.  You have an arrangement.  That's fine."

"While we're at it, what else do you suddenly NOT believe in?"

"I believe in everything except the tooth fairy and the sandman.  I know there's a Santa, because you NEVER have any money.  There's no way you could buy all those presents."

"Good.  You just make sure it stays that way."

And then that little boy gave me a wink.  One of those knowing, almost evil sort of winks that I can't quite figure out.  It's almost over, isn't it?

Dear God in Heaven

I need your help.

See, a few years ago, I sat my kids down to watch Cloak and Dagger. I appreciate that my kids could never, ever understand what the hell an Atari 2600 is, but still, they could've liked the movie if they just opened their minds up to it. They didn't, and it caused a bit of a rift in the family.

Next, I tried Explorers. No luck there, either. Is it possible that both of my children were mistakenly switched at birth?

I thought that perhaps they were a bit too young for such awesomeness, so I waited a little and then, well, and then I pulled out my Trump Card. Yes, that's right, we snuggled up and with ice cream AND popcorn, we watch The Goonies. I was sure this was going to Do The Trick. We were going to be eternally bonded in the ties of holy Goontramony.

Not. So.

Who hates the Goonies? My idiot children, that's who.

I waited more, and prayed to you for an answer, and the answer came to me with trumpets and rainbows and bright, shining light. The Princess Bride.


We went in again, this time with even better snackage, but it was no use. Pokemon and grand Theft Auto have rotted the taste receptors in their brains. I almost mailed them to the South Pacific that night.

Tonight, dear lord, tonight I am desperate. I wanted to wait a little longer for this one, but I am at the end of my rope here, and I thought maybe, just maybe, it would work. If it doesn't, I don't know what I'm going to do. I might have to rent them out or list them on eBay or something.

So, if, in your infinite wisdom, you see fit to help a girl out, a girl who has said some rather questionable things about you in the past, I would be grateful. Please, Lord, please let them like Labyrinth*.

*Oddly enough, even as I type this, I am asking myself if this movie is all I cracked it up to be. Maybe it's just because I've seen Jennifer Connelly naked, and now she's not a plausible theater geek to me anymore. Maybe it's David Bowie's hair. Seriously, What The Fuck?