The longer I live, the less patience I have for shenanigans. For example, last week I was picking up my clothes from the cleaners:
ME: Oh, it looks like you missed ironing on that sleeve.
ME: So would you like me to wait here until you fix that?
And on my last date (years ago):
DATE: I was thinking we could go on a hike.
ME: Oh! That sounds like fun! I hope you have a good time. I’ll just wait here in the car until you’re finished.
ME: And then let’s get something to eat I’m starved
I’ve realized the older I get…the more I’m turning into my mom. (Which is AWESOME of course! Right mom??) I’ve discovered I have less time on this earth for putting up with stupidness. I guess that’s why you always see old people at the symphony and never on facebook. They don’t mess around.
I aspire to be like that.
Last week my threshold for tolerating shenanigans was violated when I was driving to work, and I saw a car…
…back into the car behind it.
It didn’t just bump it, it bumped it and then kept on going.
I was a little surprised but was certain they’d pull over and take care of that.
But they didn’t. They started driving off!
Don’t worry I stopped them!
ME: Hi you totally just backed into that car back there
HER: What? Really? I didn’t feel it!
ME: Why don’t we pull over and take care of this?
So we did, though she left her car running (???)
Now, the car was pretty beat up already and it was hard to tell which dents and scrapes were hers. But I saw she’d hit it pretty hard so some of them had to be from her.
HER: I didn’t do that! There was no way I did that!
ME: Maybe you should go knock on their door and talk to them.
HER: *storms off to the porch*
She began knocking on the door angrily. In the meantime…I took pics of both license plates.
After a few minutes, it became clear no one would be answering the door.
ME: Looks like no one’s home. I guess you should probably leave a note.
HER: I’m a grownup, you know! I can take care of this!
ME: Well, yeah, except you totally were driving off
ME: …And that was pretty squirrelly.
(I really did say this.)
By now, the girl looked like she wanted to punch me in the face. Undeterred, I asked if I could get her name and number, just in case.
HER: WHY WOULD YOU NEED MY NAME AND NUMBER??!
ME: Er. Well, you’d need a witness, right?
HER: WHY WOULD I NEED A WITNESS IF I WAS THE ONE TELLING THEM I BACKED INTO THEIR CAR?? I CAN TAKE CARE OF THIS! I’M A GROWN-UP!
I got in my car and drove off, never knowing if she left a note or got in contact with them. I’m sure she did. Absolutely sure.
I was so sure, in fact, that when I got to work I emailed the SLC police department with the story and pics of the license plates.
(Told you I didn’t like shenanigans.)
On a side note: If you live on 200 N in the SLC avenues and your bumper’s been mooshed and no one left a note or anything…you might wanna get in touch.
**WARNING** This blog post features extremely disturbing images, most of which have 8 legs. Read at your own risk.
I like to think that I’m an independent, strong woman
but obviously I’m not, because every time I see a spider
I about lose my cookies
Spiders are the reason I keep a blowtorch in every room of my house. You can never be too prepared.
I don’t know what it is about spiders and funny-shaped bugs, but I just…I just can’t. I know I’m not the only girl who feels this way, either. I had a friend stationed in the Middle East, and she was tough, knew how to drive over bombs and shoot a rifle but she could not handle the camel spiders.
Gak gak gak…I can’t even look at that picture
She said sometimes they’d be taking a shower and discover one in the folds of the curtain.
ME: EEP! What did you do???
HER: Um, we usually got one of the guys to take care of it.
Maybe it’s written in our DNA. I come from tough stock–pioneer stock–and back then, they lived in dugouts.
Anyway a dugout was a shelter dug out from the hillside. The women never complained about the dirt, or the cold or ever the bugs.
But they did complain about the spiders. They hated them.
It’s a popular mantra to say that if women ruled the world, we’d have World Peace™, but everyone leaves out this disturbing fact: if women ruled the world, the enemy would probably engage in spider warfare.
And let’s be honest is that really worth it.
I live next to the Great Salt Lake, and there’s a giant, barren island in the middle of it, connected by a 7-mile causeway.
It’s name is “Spider Island”
Ok on the map it’s name is actually Antelope Island but as far as I’m aware antelopes don’t actually live there.
But spiders do. So, so many spiders.Giant spiders. I make this not up. Back when I was young and innocent, I visited it. Once. Once was enough.
The reason: Spiders were EVERYWHERE. We went to the visitors center, and it was encased in spiderwebs.
See, and that might be ok if it was just the outside that had spiders, but the inside of the place was even more spiderific.
Webs stretched from the ceiling to the floor all down the hall. Several giant spiders perched on each, staring hungrily at me with each of their 8 eyes. It was like entering into a Halloween cocoon of nightmares. But worse because this was real.
The guy who worked in the gift shop tried to make me feel better about this.
HIM: Don’t you worry, they’re harmless, they won’t hurt you.
HIM: We just cup them in our hands and let them free outside.
HIM: They come back in, of course. The birds won’t eat them, so mmmfmffmm–
Conclusion: I never went back.
I was telling my friend Kristin about this experience, and she had a Spider Island story too!
She was out hiking the island with a friend
And she walked by a bush, and the bush moved.
Upon closer inspection she saw that the bush was moving. Moving
BECAUSE THERE WERE SO MANY SPIDERS INSIDE IT
Then she looked out over the landscape
And in the glimmer of the setting sun over the Great Salt Lake, swaths of web glistened over all the sagebrush, a glittering expanse of silver sheen.
I am sorry, guys. I am so, so sorry.
Obviously she couldn’t go ahead or go back, but thankfully…her friend came to the rescue.
HIM: Ok, how about I run down the trail and scare them all away and then you run right after!
And that’s just what they did.
That’s how you know you have a true friend.
Addendum: Please don’t let these horrible stories stop you from visiting ̷S̷p̷i̷d̷e̷r̷ ̷I̷s̷l̷a̷n̷d̷ Antelope Island, A Fun Vacation Place For The Family, Much Hiking, Biking, Sagebrush, Buffalo, Fragrant Salt Lake Smell, And Don’t Forget To Bring A Boiled Egg For Some Exciting Science Experiments™
Last week, a few of my buddies were talking about their #ParentFails.
#ParentFails are when you totally blow it as a parent. Not in a bad way; not like you’re leaving your kids to become a tennis pro or anything. Just in tiny little ways. Like leaving the mayo out overnight and your kid eats a sandwich the next day and gets sick. Or you leave the bathroom door open and your 18-month old starts playing the toilet. You know, death by a thousand paper cuts that your kids will probably blame you for years later.
Heh heh heh.
I think #ParentFails are hilarious. Probably because I’m not a parent.
Here’s Travis’s story:
Travis went on a scouting trip with his son a couple of years ago.
They don’t go camping often because it’s camping, but he at least knew how to set up camp so when they got to the campground, he began building the tent and putting his son to work.
His son had the job of lighting the fire. Travis gave him a box of matches of let him at it.
For a minute, his son just stared at the box.
Then he took a match out, and touched it, very gently, to the sandpaper on the side.
When that didn’t work, he s-l-o-w-l-y stroked the sandpaper with the head of the match, almost caressing it.
That didn’t work either.
It was getting kind of cold out and Travis was like
And his son broke down.
That was when Travis realized that he was a terrible parent.
He had never let his son play with matches.
I have this awesome get-rich-quick idea (another one!) that would totally solve this kind of situation. Call it a “Real Life” playground, if you will. Put kids in a supervised open area with grown-up things like appliances, boxes of snakes, inflatable pools full of broken glass, and let them have at it. Important lessons Will Be Learned. The moment one of them loses an eye or realizes drain-o actually *isn’t* safe to drink, they’ll be safely on the way to the hospital.
(Kids pretty much do this anyway so this is actually *less* dangerous than otherwise.)
I’m totally starting a gofundme.
I’m on the job hunt, which means I’ve been working on my portfolio. I’ve had a certain story on my mind for a long time–a nursery WWII story, about a Jewish mother who helps her son escape WWII by building a golem out of flower pots. At last I’ve had the chance to make it!
As I’m showing it around for feedback, I’m running into a problem–not a lot of people know what a golem is. (A golem is a mud creature from Jewish folklore–you can make it come to life by writing the Hebrew word “Truth” on its forehead.)
If you watch it:
- Thank you! I’m honored you would spend your time on it ^_^
- Do you know what a golem is? If not, does that affect how much you enjoy the piece?
It was a lot of fun to create. It makes want to have a bunch of pots of yellow tulips :)
PS “Gele Tulpin” means “Yellow Tulips” in Dutch.
Last Friday I was out driving late. Really late. 9:30 or so, no one should be driving after 9:00, that’s way too late to be out. Maniacs.
I was almost home and stopped at a stoplight and couldn’t stop staring at the car in front of me
I suddenly seemed to notice how much
it’s tail light looked like Nicolas Cage.
I am legit not making this up. It seriously did.
And then suddenly EVERYTHING about the car looked like Nicolas Cage
And I was like
And I realized about then that I should probably get some sleep.
(So I did.)
The next morning, I looked back on that moment and realized that I’d had a spiritual experience. You know, like in the same way people see angels in their coffee bubbles or Elvis in their driveway stains. For me, it was Nicolas Cage in a tail light.
I like to think that maybe I have Nicolas Cage watching over me.
And I find that very comforting.
WINNERS WINNERS CHICKENS DINNERS!
Congrats to Karol Knight, David Darcey, and Bekah! You guys won last week’s Cinderella print! *kazoos* Only use the print for GOOD, not evil. Feed little orphans with it or somfin ^_^
Made this sweet li’l print.
Because who doesn’t love Cinderella?
If you love that dress as much as I do, why not enter the giveaway! I’ll be giving away 3 of these 5×7 prints. All you need to do to enter is type in “WANT!” in the comments section…and you’re in!
Contest ends end-of-day Sunday, Jan. 29th.
You can also choose to get the picture without the text.
You might not know this, but there are dozens of horrible, terrible, villainous little creatures living in your house.
No, not your kids…(nice thought, though.) Chances are, you’ve never seen these little monsters. But they’re around you. All around you. Every day. All day.
There’s one above you right now.
Don’t panic. I know of ways to get rid of them. I’ve put together a list…a list of 6 of ’em that torment your life daily. And, I tell you how to get rid of them. As they say, knowing is half the battle!
1. The Camera Phone Gnome (Pernicium Picturus)
This is a little gnome that lives inside your phone. He’s about the size of a grain of rice. He wears a little red hat and matching leggings that he hasn’t washed in years.
(He lives up by the camera lens.)
Anyway. Every time you see something beautiful–like the way light glistens on a pool, or the full moon last Friday–you want to take a picture, right?
Somewhere, between the lens and the microchips of the camera, the Camera Gnome interferes.
And your picture turns out super crummy.
Happens every time.
Prevention/Cure: Take a billion pictures of every meal you eat. Cold cereal, toast, everything.
This won’t actually get rid of the Gnome…it just gets even with it.
2. The Art Repulser (Malus Artem Criticus)
This little guy lives at the bottom of your garbage can. He wears a vest and is smelly. He kind of looks like Captain Picard.
Mostly he just minds his own business, until
Your kid gives you a piece of artwork they drew themselves
and of course you’re crazy about it, because you’re a good parent
which unfortunately causes the kid to draw a billion more pictures of the exact same thing
(I was this kid so I feel justified in making fun of it)
Eventually you can’t see your fridge anymore.
You get tired of the clutter and when your kid isn’t looking…
You throw it all out but are very careful to make sure you stuff it down LOW in the garbage can because the last thing your kid needs to know is that you threw away their beautiful artwork!
Of course, the Art Repulser is having none of that.
The next time your kid goes to throw something away…
You’re a terrible parent. You’re the worst.
Don’t worry…your kid never throws anything away, so you should be fine.
Prevention/Cure: Encourage your child to become an accountant.
3. The Thought Suckers (Cogitari Vacuumus)
Your house is infested with these creatures. Your living room might look like a normal living room
But really, there are about a hundred of these things hanging from the ceiling. (They’re invisible)
They have giant, blank eyes (about the size of ping pong balls) and “O”-shaped mouths that suck like a vaccuum.
Every day, they wait for someone to enter their lair with intent.
Why was I down here again?
Prevention/Cure: Stop having worthwhile thoughts.
4. The Printer Demon (Terrore Satietus)
This one is about the size of a folded Eggo waffle and it lives inside your printer.
It mostly drinks your printing toner. (That’s why it runs out so fast.)
But it feeds on your panic.
The printer demon is the reason why the printer never works before your assignment is due.
Prevention/Cure: Sadly, there’s nothing you can do about this guy. He comes manufactured with the printer.
5. The Fire Alarm Fairies (Fumi Quiritors)
Evil fairies live inside your fire alarms.
They mostly just sit there getting drunk
Until you decide to cook something
Then they go crazy.
Their shrill little voices are the worst.
Of course, it sets off the other Fire Alarm Fairies in your house
And it just escalates until the neighbors call the fire department because they think you’re trying to burn the unit down.
Prevention/Cure: You’ll need to make an offering of an unused, pure white 600 thread count pillowcase. Shake it at the fire alarm 5,034 times in obeisance. That’s the only way to appease them.
And, last of all, the worst, most nefarious creature of them all:
6. The Produce Guy At The Grocery Store (Frutus Congestus)
Heh heh heh…
There is a special place in not-heaven for that guy.
Every year I tell myself: I’m going to do more speedpaints.
Speedpaints are the tomatoes of the artist’s palette. They are useful, healthy, and good to have.
But no one says that a tomato is their favorite food…do they.
Every year, I make a goal to do more speedpaints because they are good for you. And every year…I fail at it.
ME2015: Ok I’m going to do like, a ton of speedpaints this year. I can’t wait!
Me2016: Ok but THIS year I’m TOTALLY doing a billion speedpaints. I mean it! REALLY THIS TIME!!
Me2017: If I don’t do more speedpaints this year, I will punish myself by slashing tires.
Slashing tires takes a lot of upper body strength, plus you have to deal with the angry neighbors after, so. I think it’s a good punishment.
2017: This is going to be an interesting year for you.
Anyway, here’s a bunch of the 30-minute speedpaints I did this year…condensed to seconds, all for your viewing enjoyment.
Also, reminder: New Dixon Drawing Class up! You can find it here.