KIDDING!!!

hey hey,
just kidding! we are not screwed! we fixed his car for a mere $400 AND i'm getting a raise next week! hurrah, hurrah! yay us!

KIDDING!!!

hey hey,
just kidding! we are not screwed! we fixed his car for a mere $400 AND i'm getting a raise next week! hurrah, hurrah! yay us!

Untitled.

Elliott's car died. We are SO screwed.
End post.

well, as i am in the throes of retail boredom here at the ol' fabric store, i may as well post on my pathetically out of date blog. by way of an update, i will say that elliott is enjoying his job making maps for a high-tech company and is doing a smashing job of supporting me in my lame first attempt at a career job. (haha, pause to laugh, thank you.) we are now 8 months into marriage and digging it! of course, there has to be a downside, it's not all roses at the just-breaching-middle-class mark, no; in order to skim the bottom of middle class elli must work the night shift (read: 4:00 pm to 12:30 am-ish), while my skirmish in retail hell lasts from 10 am to 6 pm. did you catch the overlap, people? throw in the fact that i get up at 7 am to go running every morning and i can't stay up past eleven if my life depended on it. i do try, though. it just doesn't work out all that well... i usually end up lying in an unflattering heap on the bed, one of my limbs in a position i don't remember putting it, with my head at the foot of the bed and my feet somewhere else entirely. i wish i could stay up. but, most weeks we get saturdays together where he indulges my ability to windowshop furniture like no one else, and most mornings (even when he works till 2 am) he'll still get up at 8:30 to have coffee with me before i head out into the bright sunshine to fill murfreesboro's need for upholstery fabric.
i am contemplating going back to school for a masters of architecture. am i out of my mind?
i am thinking of starting a business with a great friend and all around smart cookie from design school. again, out of my mind??

Jen's Natal Day

Okay, so during all the horrible fuss and bad times that have pretty much defined the identity of my store lately, I must fess up to COMPLETELY FORGETTING MY SISTER'S BIRTHDAY. Am I awful or what? Happy natal day, Big J. For your enjoyment I make you a birthday poem to make up for my belatedness.


With Clare eating, pooping, and snoring
Each day is anything but boring;
But as yesterday dawned,
I hope you and your spawn
Celebrated with... more eating, pooping, and snoring.

so much for the sticks

well, as mother didn't believe me, i will post something new and hopefully less distasteful than my last effort. so i promise no more talk of indiginous peoples and their attire unless it is absolutely crucial to the conversation. what i am doing today is ragging on my mom, who, last time i tried to call her on the phone and bridge the 3000 mile gap with pleasant conversation, was in her 'i don't want to speak to you' mood, and it hurt my feelings! (Mom!) shame on you mom!! i mean, i know i didn't just have a baby or anything, but if that's what it takes to get you in conversation maybe i'll just give it a try...

...

NEVER, i'm kidding, i take that one back. that was too scary a thought to be funny.

Allright, I give, I give!

A new post, for all clammoring for more of my own special concoction of gigglery. Just be aware, you requested more blogging, so what that means is you're going to get stream-of-consciousness stuff. So don't blame me for what follows.

I was watching the Discovery Channel the other day (because, as Elliott and I are moving up in the world [slowly, ever slowly], we have finally obtained the American dream--Cable!) and was mesmerized by the programming, which was an anthropological study about some far away tribespeople... and anyway, all of the menfolk in this tribe were building some sort of bridge over the river kwai or what-have-you, and it was made out of sticks. For real, honest to goodness sticks. And this was some kind of hefty structure, let me tell you. So these men are building this bridge right. And I'm watching fascinated, because the narrarator is telling me that this hefty thing has to be rebuilt every six months. My thought is, that's too much trouble, and I would just try to not have to go on the other side of the river. I mean, what is that important over there? Same banana trees on either side, you know. So I'm watching. Now the men are in their native garb, which, as "The Gods Must Be Crazy" has taught me, usually consists of a small flap to hide their indelicates. For these people, this is not the case. It took me a few minutes to wrap my brain around what these dudes were wearing, because I was prepared for a small flap of canvas. What I saw instead was this: each dude at puberty level or above was wearing a stick on their business. Like a five foot long stick. I mean, when the men walked the sticks waggled back and forth becuase they were so long. And the weird thing is that the sticks curved UP like an elephant tusk. I swear. Super bizarre stuff, man.

I am at work. There is a lull between customers and I am about to amuse myself by vacuuming up all the little fringy pieces that fall off of our fabric bolts all while trying to not burn out the vacuum-cleaner motor by winding those little fringy pieces around the sweeper. It's quite a task, because this is a very large-ish store. But this is how I pass my days; I keep up with the bookkeeping end of things here and help little old color-starved ladies find the perfect floral tapestry fabric to complement their husband's older-than-dirt smoking chair. I actually have a good time doing that. so now i am going to go and clean the store, la-dee-dah, because that is an important thing to do and i am the managing person and should set a good example for the plebians.