I'm sooooo boring!!!!

New bag finally. It's reversible! Been knitting. Finished this damn sweater that looks less than flattering but is completed at least. Plus, some slippers to boot.

Hamburger helper: Antidote to productive creation

I had a dream (here's where everyone rolls their eyes and goes to google news instead) that I was at a concert in New York city, in what appeared to be the early 80's and John Lennon was in the audience( circa 1980's new york John Lennon with the army coat, shorter hair, big burns... It made me sad, seeing him and knowing his fate so soon to arrive). It was the end of the "performance" and the men on stage, in army camouflage, opened fake but realistic machine-gun fire on the audience as a "statement" of being pro-might-is-right or something. I looked and saw John Lennon shouting in outrage, along with the rest of the audience.

The venue turned into a House of Pancakes, family-type restaurant (lots of booths). One of the performers had his family there with him: a wife and 3 children. They were all "poorly socialized", to put it euphemistically. Nerds. The daughter, a chubby, greasy-haired 15 year-old, feeling rebellious, stood up and questioned her own parents on their part in the machine-gun performance. "Why didn't you choose productive creation?, she asked.

Her mom's response to that was: "I'm no sophisticated city lady. I use Hamburger Helper all the time!" At the mention of Hamburger Helper, her daughter and 2 younger sons began to shake and quiver like babies do when they are happy, squirming and pumping their legs or like people with palsy who shake their heads and wave their arms.

The mom knew conjuring Hamburger Helper visions would distract her children from high-falutin' thoughts of productive creation.

The lesson is?

Frauwerks

So I think I'm nearly at the point of opening my Etsy shop. I've come up with the name. Thanks to my parents for about a billion good suggestions. You guys should maybe forget retirement and start an agency. I riffed off one of their suggestions - Volkstaschen which would translate to: the people's bags, if I got that right, mom? So after some playing around with words and listening to Kraftwerk I came up with Frauwerks. Women's work. I wanted to keep it a little looser in meaning since I would like to eventually do more than just bags. Anyway Frauwerks. Big runner up to some of the religiously irreverent names I almost went with, again from my parent's suggestions: Sack remnants and my riff, Sack-re-licious. Seriously, they had tons more. If you need something named, go to my parents.

Here's the latest, and an update to an older bag that need something more (I added the flowers). I am keeping the bigger blue one, for now anyway. Now I have to work on a damn logo and make some business cards and finish the Etsy site. All stuff that is waaay less fun than making the bags. Plus, I have a 3 day reception job this week. "Can you handle multiple phone lines?" "Sure I can. Yep. I sure can."(lie).

It's good, it'll get me out of the house for a few days and force me to dress myself properly.

The couch cover that kept on giving

The newest bags:

But what do I call it?

Help me name my bag endevour. The idea behind it is, I re-use old materials. Either scraps, old clothes or abandonned sad pieces of cloth that want to be happy again. Like the couch cover in the as-is section of Ikea, or a skirt from Goodwill, or my first commission, a bag made from an old David Bowie t-shirt.

So I want to open a store on Etsy but I don't know what to call the damn thing.

Ideas? Anyone? Bueller?

Stop, drop and plop

Ahh yes. Winter wars on, well past it's welcome. Last week I shovelled waist-high snow for an hour and lost the feeling in my legs. Good times. I vow not to spend another winter in this apartment.

I'm being luxurious today by having a fire going in the afternoon. Usually we wait until the evening to preserve wood. Well tough, I'm cold and I'm sick of being cold. Wah wah wah.

I went to go rent a movie from the corner store for tonight and some dude was paying for cigarettes with rolls of pennies. The problem was, they were wrapped in paper and needed to be in the plastic holders so the cashier girl and him were transferring them. After a few minutes they both finally realized that they could maybe go ahead and serve me while they finished assembling the penny monuments.

On a regular day this would have annoyed me and I would have spoke up, but today I wasn't in a hurry and frankly, I was fascinated by this slice of life in Deux Montagnes. Yes, I live in a town where people pay for cigarettes with rolls of pennies. I'm surprised he wasn't getting some beer with that. He did have a pretty rocking 80's buick, parked outside the store with the stereo blasting bad french rock, keys still in the ignition. No wonder he has to pay with pennies, his entire income must go into paying the gas for that old bastard, grandpa car.

In a rare moment of inspiration, I redid my resume today. It's about a million times better than it was. The best one I've ever done. I have no idea how I managed to accomplish that, as it's one of my most dreaded tasks, but I did, so I'm not complaining. Now I am ready to go get another stupid office job. Yay! At least it will be a new office job and not the same old one I was in. That alone is relief enough for me.

As it so happens, the bags are coming along pretty good. Production is getting slower which tends to be my pace when things start having potential. I don't know what's up my damn craw, but I always have trouble pushing through with creative endeavours that are going somewhere. I chip away at it. That's all. Better than a kick up the old arse, as far as I know.

The day sun is turning to late afternoon sun and the fire needs another log. I have to figure out what to shove into my food hole for dinner and get on with business. First though, I'm gonna take 15 minutes to just lay the hell on the couch and listen to the radio. You'd think I'd be lazing around like crazy, being home all day, but I rarely do. I tend to keep busy, even if I don't accomplish all that much. Sometimes, it's nice to stop, drop and roll...onto the couch. Plus, this pleases the cat. He'll come running from anywhere as soon as he senses there is an inactive human body to sleep on top of. Who can blame him really.

Stop, drop and ignore the clock.