Friday Morning Word Vomit

It’s funny how, by the time the air starts to chill and the leaves start to fall, I completely forget how badly autumn and winter terrorize my struggling immune system. I always seem to forget the perpetual cold or flu that keeps me down about 80% of the season, remembering instead only the happy parts of the colder months. The hot drinks and warm sweaters, cuddling my husband in front of a fire, holidays, festivals, and markets. Then the first cold hits, and I have to break out my nebulizer because Covid ravaged my once healing lungs and I won’t survive the winter without my albuterol.

I think I’ll be lucky if I see 65 the way things are going.

I got a new job. Part-time. I don’t like it. Yes, it’s true, I don’t like to work. Or, at least, I don’t like to work the jobs society deems appropriate for someone like me. Lately I’ve been focusing more on my writing, and that’s how I want to make my living. I have this fantasy where my husband’s band gets signed, gets big, and I can spend my days raising my child and doing creative things in relative comfort.

It feels wrong to dream about it, mainly because I know that it’s not realistic or statistically likely to happen. Out of the millions of creatives around the world, what gives me the right to think I can make it? Sure, I could have a solid 15 minutes, after which I’d fade back into obscurity, back to retail, back to being chronically sick every winter because my body can’t handle constant human interaction like a normal body can.

I think what bothers me the most about that fantasy is that it feels like it has too much in common with the American individualist fantasy that paints the common blue-collar worker as a temporarily inconvenienced billionaire. If he just works harder, he can join that big club. He’s really one of them, you know. That’s why he doesn’t care about the homeless or the immigrant or the starving child. Their existence only drags him down.

I don’t have that mindset, but having my own fantasy about pulling my family out of poverty almost feels like a betrayal to others like me. Any time I find myself scheming up ways to get my daughter into the best school in the state because I want her to be safe and well educated, I recoil, disgusted with myself for even considering mingling with that lifestyle.

Lately, I’ve been feeling more confident. I’ve gotten it in my mind that maybe I can get all my stories done and published. I could make connections. I’ve found it mind-bogglingly easy to talk to certain people, something I’ve never been able to do before. I prefer friendships over career connections, but I know that’s how the world works, as much as I hate it.

Sometimes I think I’m dying, and I’m terrified I’ll die before I get any of my stories finished. I think about sitting down one day and writing out detailed plots and character sheets, just in case I croak. My family can pull a V.C. Andrews and live comfortably on whatever a ghostwriter pumps out. I’ve been posting finished (albeit rough and unedited) chapters of various stories on my VampFreaks (not, not VampireFreaks) blog before I post/publish them elsewhere. Just in case.

Anyway, I have to get ready for work. Another thing I forget I hate about this season is the emphasis on capitalism. The busier the closer the holidays get, the ruder the customers get. And when you work a retail job that involves big spenders, you’re further reminded why you hate the wealthy.

Eat the rich, y’all.

I put this in my drafts and forgot to publish it. It’s now Monday morning. 🤘🏻🤦🏻‍♀️

Eulogy for MAGA

In accordance with Charlie Kirk’s beliefs, I will not be feeling, displaying, or faking empathy for him at this time. I will, however, express my sympathy for his children and pray to whatever deity may or may not exist that they do not follow down the same path as their father. Thoughts and prayers. There’s simply nothing that can be done to prevent this senseless violence. Etc. Etc.

A New Phase

To the dozen or so people who subscribe to this blog, I apologize for my absence. My only explanation is a mixture of laziness, depression, and forgetfulness.

If you’ve been following my blog for any length of time, you may have noticed that nearly every post is gone. I archived 62 posts spanning over the past couple years because I felt like I lost sight of what this blog was meant to be. I wanted it to be a place to showcase my art and writing, to post parenting related content, adulting content, good memories with my family, etc. Instead, it became a receptacle for unhinged rants and self loathing.

I don’t like who I am. I don’t think I ever really have, as evident by the numerous posts I’ve deleted not just here, but on Reddit and Wattpad and old blogs and YouTube. I’m constantly trying to reinvent myself to no avail. And I’m always a bitch, even when I don’t mean to be.

As I continue to try and once again reinvent myself or maybe better myself, I’m going to focus on what this blog was meant to be. I will draw more, write more, share experiences that aren’t marred with negative tones and self-pity. I’m sorry that it got so out of hand.

Paper Ornament Templates

Hiya! You’re either here because you clicked the link from my YouTube video, Adventures In Making A Cat-Proof Christmas Tree or you’re on of my blog followers who are wondering why I’m posting this and not my usual depressing and weird pity party content.

Here are the templates for the paper ornaments I made. They’d also make pretty good coloring pages for the kiddos, so feel free to use, copy and share them. Just don’t try to make money off of them (if you even could??)

To get the best quality images, right click on each picture, click “copy image link,” past the link into your address bar and hit enter. Save the pictures from there.

November Antique/Thrift Shop Finds

I didn’t go to many places this month.

i m s o r r y j o h n
Feed me
To anyone who says, “all these weird animals didn’t exist until 10 years ago,” here’s a Nat Geo book from the late 70s about some of those weird animals. You just didn’t have the internet until 10 years ago and your parents didn’t care about your education.
Something I did buy for someone’s Christmas gift.
I have no clue what this is. Kind of looks like a school project volcano but it was ceramic rather than paper mache.
Hmm, there are some questionable dolls in this lot…
Oh, there’s more!
I wish I could fit into these beautiful old Victorian/Edwardian pieces, but the Lord thought it best to bless me with hhhhhhhhhhella curves that not even a corset could recreate.
I regret not buying this boudoir doll.
I also regret not buying this for my SO.
Another regret. I love this sasquatch bank so so much.
It took me a solid 5 minutes to see that it was a horse.
I wanna be a cow girl, baby.
And one more regret to send us off.

Thrift Shop Finds From My Camera Roll

Inspired by my first post of interesting thrift store/antique shop finds, here are some interesting things I found and didn’t buy over the years. Most for good reason.

I’m going to be completely honest, I’m not sure if I took this photo or not. I found it in my camera roll and it does look familiar. The shop it’s in looks like one I frequented about 10 years ago and the quality it on par with photos take on my old Samsung keyboard phone from roughly 12 years ago. If I did take this photo, I’m surprised I didn’t take the doll home.
This one confuses me. Is it a weird perspective or is she super short?
I now own 4 vintage black cat figurines, just not these.
It felt cursed.
Yikes on bikes! Sadly, this is probably the 5th Klan group photo I’ve found in my many years of antiquing.
He was delightfully whimsical and I regret not taking him home.
I’m also kicking myself for not adopting these terrible and wonderful Star Trek bears.
Pinwheels are for babies. Saw wheels are for men.
There was a strong weed aroma when I took the lid off.

I actually bought this one. We call him Heroin Dog.
Probably the coolest things I ever found at Goodwill, but at the time I didn’t think I would ever have kids.

Speaking of weebs, finding this brought a tear to my eye. I loved this comic as a teenager. I might go back and read it again.
I was heavily pregnant when we found this. We were about to take it home until we realized it was broken in multiple places. So sad.
I don’t know if this counts, but here are some shots from my favorite booth at the flea market in my hometown.
This came home with us.
1 – 31 – 07 Never forget 🇺🇸
I can’t imagine what kind of person keeps a framed picture of General Patton in their ho- my dad. My dad would keep a framed picture of General Patton in his home… He probably has one somewhere.

September Antique/Thrift Shop Finds

I used to go to antique shops almost every weekend. Even if I didn’t buy anything, it was just something that made me happy. Sadly, I don’t get out much anymore. I want to make it a habit to go at least once a month. So here are some weird and wonderful things I found at various antique and thrift shops.

No matter where you go, you’ll find at least one instance of blaringly obvious racism and/or microtransgressions.
The 50s was a wild decade. Is this supposed to be cute? Is it supposed to look like any one Mouseketeer in particular? If so, girl, you should sue.
I like this duck. I like him a lot.
He would currently be mine if I had the money and the space for him. I hope he goes to a good home.
Found in a box of Littlest Pet Shop toys. It is cursed.
Poor little Palkie doll. The tag had the word restored in quotes.
It’s painted with acrylic paint.

Drawing: Mindful Self Destruction

2021

Is started out as a commission for a local band that ended up not paying me. It ended up being used by another band that did pay me.

The original commissioner asked for heavy drug reference, violence, and mental anguish. I ended up putting a bit too much into it personally.