Status Reports & Other Ramblings / wargarbl

cars are very exciting

(This is a stock photo for the purpose of drama and hyperbole. My car is surprisingly not rusty considering how many New England Winters it's survived.)

So, my weekend has been super exciting so far. For the definition of "exciting" that involves having a tire blow out on the interchange between NH101 and I-93, not being able to pull over for at least a mile because see previous statement about location, having to call a tow truck because I was way too brainfogged to safely do a double tire change myself in the dark on semi-muddy ground (it was a front tire, and apparently you can't put a donut spare on the front of a Subaru? I don't know, I'm an artist) and then buying four new tires on a holiday weekend when most of the reputable tire places in town were closed. 

And I did all of this with a cranky child who recently lost her screentime privileges in tow, for extra fun and excitement! Because that's how you roll when you're a single mother. 

(Or, y'know, don't roll, because spectacularly flat tire.)

(I'm funny.)

Completely unrelated to this or the fact that my out-of-warranty car was already scheduled to go to the mechanic for its annual checkup tomorrow, I'm having a sale! Completely unrelated, I tell you. Pure coincidence. Yup. 

Coupon code MAY takes 25% off everything. I expect I'll be moving some stuff into clearance later today too, just because it's been a while since I did that. 

Go forth and buy yourself something shiny! Or tell your friends. Or tell the stranger sitting next to you at the coffeeshop, although that may make them look at you funny.

(And if your car is vibrating and/or making alarming noises on the highway, don't assume it's just the alignment and that you'll be fine until your appointment with the mechanic on Tuesday, because it might be a tire coming apart and that is not really the sort of excitement you want in your life. Trust me.)


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my child is smarter than I am, part 793 in a series

Pull up a chair, folks, I'm going to tell you a story. 

About a week and a half ago, my child lost all screentime privileges because she decided that lying to me was a good idea. I advised her of this and I took away her iPad and all the remote controls; after she went to bed, just for good measure I also blocked the TV at the router on the theory that she might figure out how to use the buttons on the side of the TV to navigate through menus. 

The next morning I walked into her bedroom and discovered that sometime after I went to sleep she had snuck downstairs, found a different iPad that I had actually forgotten we have, powered it up, guessed the 4-digit passcode, and stayed up half the night playing Minecraft. 

She very smugly informed me that I hadn't said ANYTHING about THAT iPad. I  informed her that she was going to law school. 


She eventually earned limited screentime through good behavior, but on the condition that at bedtime she now has to give me any and all electronic devices that she might have in her possession, including but not limited to iPads, phones, televisions, computers, or old Palm Pilots that she might have rummaged out of the many boxes of electronic junk in the basement. 

(I was a tech widow for 13 years. There are a lot of random electronic devices floating around this house.)

Last night I took away her iPad (I even have a witness, because I was on the phone at the time and my friend heard me tell her to hand it over) and went to bed not long after she did, with ALL of the iPads in the house safely in my bedroom.

Fast forward to this morning: I got up, got her out of bed, saw that she was staggering around more than normal and seemed exhausted and disoriented, and called her out sick from school figuring she was probably coming down with something.


(ALSO SHE PUT A PASSCODE ON ONE OF THEM. Luckily she hasn't yet learned about high-security passcodes and I was able to guess that it was 123456 on the 3rd or 4th attempt.)

I tossed her into the shower, wrestled her into clothes, gave her an aspirin, and deposited her at school with instructions to make her do her normal school work no matter how tired she is and to only call me if she actually pukes or spikes a fever. 

And if you need me today, I'll just be over here, questioning my life choices.

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status report: recovering

Hello, world! It's... been a while.  I was sick for most of September (thank you, back-to-school season) and then the High Holy Days and migraines/pain flares consumed me. Lesson learned: I need a full week off work for both Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, and I'll be planning accordingly next year.

I more or less managed to keep up with subscriptions and shipping, but the past six weeks were pretty much a blur of exhaustion and cough medicine and I owe a lot of people emails. I'm working on that. 

Today is my first day back at work on something resembling my normal schedule, yay! I'll be using it mostly to get caught up on things and plan, although you can probably expect a few new shinies late tonight. 

Looking forward, we're headed straight into the holiday shopping season, and my goal this year is much the same as it's been the past two years: lots of affordably-priced smaller items, a return of the $5 surprise earrings, and no Black Friday sale but instead several other sales, the first of which will be sometime this week when I move a bunch of older stock into clearance.

So that's the state of things, and now I'm off to make some earrings and get them in the mail...

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productive painsomnia

Painsomnia and accidental pain med withdrawal for the third night in a row = gave up on trying to sleep at 4 am, went downstairs, and filled up the gifties box. I really like how some of these turned out! I'm using up odds and ends of beads, so they're all a little different.  

(No, that's not my handwriting, it's a font! I wish...)

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In Which Mittens Has An Anger, part 739 in a series

This is a typical small cheap baker's rack. About waist-high, kinda wobbly. Until earlier today, it was in one corner of my studio with a fairly large and rarely used inkjet printer/scanner/fax multifunction machine on the middle shelf, packing supplies on the bottom shelf, and assorted clutter (including my old Nikon D40) on the top shelf.

As you can see, it is now empty and in the bathtub.

This is Mittens. Mittens has anger management issues. When he gets mad, he pees. Very creatively. And when I say "very creatively" I mean "he once balanced on top of a small wastepaper bin so he could pee on a houseguest's sock." He has quite literally peed in my shoes. He has peed on the sump pump in the basement. We think he probably peed on the baby at least once. Mittens no longer has the cozy basket you see in this photo, because he peed on it. His peeing skills are truly impressive, but I didn't really think he could outdo the wastepaper bin incident.

I was wrong.

When I went into the studio this morning, I immediately caught a whiff of Angry Pee. I tracked it to one corner of the room easily enough, but the floor was completely dry. Mystified, I then pulled everything out of the nearby closet (many dust bunnies, but no pee) and checked the recycling bin (nope) and my filing crates and to-be-filed basket (I need an assistant). I stood up to reevaluate the rest of the floor.

And then I realized the automatic sheet feeder on the top of the printer was... damp.

Very damp.

The packing supplies on the bottom shelf were completely unscathed. So was the camera and all the other items on the top shelf. Mittens had clearly carefully aimed his butt into the sheet feeder. I'm not sure how, since if you had asked me yesterday I would have told you there wasn't enough room for a cat to fit between the top of the printer and the shelf above.

I... rapidly came to the conclusion that I don't actually need a scanner anymore.

(And no, there is absolutely nothing medically wrong with him, and while he only has about two functioning brain cells - both of which get used for peeing - he's also not senile. He has been to many vets who have performed extensive and expensive testing only to ultimately diagnose him with a bad case of Your Cat Hates Everybody. And yes, we've tried that. And that. And that too.)

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