Showing posts with label whining wednesday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label whining wednesday. Show all posts

revive. recover. rebuild - or what's a jersey girl do with dirty hair anyway


I can't really write about this yet. It is too raw and unsettled

(and cold and dark here)

but just wanted to post that we are OK.

The pictures on the television do not really do it justice - if you remember the book/movie The Road - that is kind of what does it justice

(except of course happening here in NJ, we all have much cooler hair ... even when it is dirty and tied back with things that resemble bungie cords - yes, we can even rock those).

I grew up at the Jersey Shore and have lived in New Jersey my entire life

(except folks that live here don't call it that - we just call it the beach)

and so has hubs. We were flooded out and evacuated more times than we can remember as kids. George lost an uncle and two cousins when their fishing boat capsized during a storm; his aunt bought cold cuts, swept sand from her floors and had a funeral on her front porch.

She cried later.

Maybe just being in the proximity of an ocean so strong and so powerful can't help but rub off on the people here

(maybe it is our proximity to New York, people there are pretty tough, too)

although I suspect people are people wherever you find them.

We aren't nice. We talk fast. We walk fast. We drive like maniacs. We will beep at you in 1.5 seconds if the light turns green and your car is not moving through the intersection. We have roads called circles where the only rule is there is no rule and whoever doesn't stop has the right of way.

We curse. If you bring your kids to a Jersey diner for breakfast they will most likely learn some words you will not want them repeating at the dinner table (from our kids probably).

But we are kind. We work together. We will give you the shirt off our back and yes, our backs often have tattoos and tan lines (and muscles ... we work hard).

We do what we have to do.

We are mostly all from here or from New York because who the hell would want to move here, so we have roots; the kind of roots that go back generations - roots that can withstand 80 MPH winds actually.

We've heard all the jokes about how classless we are, how funny we talk, about turnpike exits and polluted air and we laugh right along with everyone because the less anyone knows about how freakin' beautiful it really is here, the more likely we are to have this place all to ourselves. 

That's all I have to say today - I am making myself ferklemped and here in Jersey we cry later. If you are from these parts you know what this is. If you don't, you might if you watch Chris's video:



(the freestanding house in this video used to be a block in from the beach on a road that doesn't exist anymore - the houses on the beach side are ... gone)

NOTE - Maybe one (of many) good things that can come from this is that we can finally get over any need we have to glamorize and dramatize turbulence, the end of the world, death and destruction - ala vampires and zombies and survivalists - let's not focus on this crap anymore - it sucks.

xo everyone - a big thank you to Vinnie and Maribeth for the lentil soup, Harry Potter, offer of a hot shower and internet use to keep Olive biting, Chris for this video, lanterns and the generator and Kella for the barbecue turkey chili and Halloween candy.

confessions of a dog person ...

I have a confession to make.

I do not really like cats.

I think this is true of all dog people.

I trace this uncomfortableness with four legged felines

(I am oddly not bothered by three legged cats, probably because I haven't met one yet)

back to the many cats my family raised while I was growing up who were

1. totally neurotic
2. totally destructive and
3. totally determined to BITE

(hubs and I once had a cat named Snowy who got out and got herself so high up a tree that we had to literally dislocate our necks or lay flat on the ground to see her. My daily pleadings with the fire department went on for 22 days

-they said she would come down when she was hungry - she didn't-

before they finally agreed to come over with their ladder truck. It took the firemen an hour to close my street and set up their ladder and then about 30 seconds to drop Snowy the 120 feet to the ground when she tried to scratch the fireman's eyes out.

Luckily she landed in some bushes. Unluckily she ran off and was not seen for another 22 days while I scoured the neighborhood nightly with my daughter, banging on cans of cat food with our spoons and calling her name.

One night we returned home to find her on the front porch calmly licking her front paws. She ran into the house and proceeded to down 6 cans of Fancy Feast

-my guilt over my role in her near death experience making me buy her the "good stuff" while she was missing-

in about 22 seconds, poop the entire 6 pack into her litter box and settle onto my lap to be petted and fawned over and then attempt to bite me)

But when my brother and sister in law asked me to care for their zoo 5 cats and 2 birds while they went on vacation this week I didn't hesitate because

1. they never go on vacation and really needed to get away and

2. they smartly asked me very late on a Saturday night hoping for an Absolut-soaked bad decision on my part

Anyhoo when I began my twice daily trips to their house, I arrived to find some rather complicated laminated "instructions"

including which pets listen to which radio stations, which are allergic to which foods, whose plates are whose, peanuts to be thrown under one tree for the squirrels (and oh yes, there is a family of squirrels in the attic), birdseed to be thrown under another tree for the robins, where which cat would most likely be hiding

(they are somehow under the delusion that I am going to stick my hands under a bed to remove a cat, somehow forgetting that I might need to end the week with all fingers still intact)

who gets petted under the chin and who on the head, etc, etc, etc
And the instructions for the cockatiels are even more precise and intimidating.

The birds have their own room and obviously it is very, very important that the cats (who live for an opportunity to put one over on an unsuspecting babysitter)
DO NOT GET INTO THIS ROOM.

Also there is such a thing as nightflight where the birds could throw themselves around their cages and die if the cats scare them

by doing something like banging on the door for example which seems to me rather likely to happen given the fact that it seems to be their life work to get into this room

(I have multiple cats at my feet when I try to slip in there - I have to fight the urge to punt them like fuzzy soccer balls)

so I have been up all night imagining the horrors that could be going on over there when I leave the little killers cuddly kitties alone in the same house with those poor birds.

I have 4 days to go before they return -

everyone please keep their fingers crossed for me that I make it through with 5 cats and 2 birds living to tell the tale (although I may have to bribe them to keep quiet about what is actually going on with the instructions sheets)

and 3 days before I delete this post.

thank you for not littering ..... or whining on wednesday

Dear Person Who Did This -->

you. made. my. night.

and I am stealing this idea for the trash can in hubby's shop.

We were having a bad day - I haven't blogged much about David lately, but today we had some big challenges and had to go to court with him -

I always get nervous in court as if the judge will suddenly pull out our 2009 tax return and demand an explanation of the deductions we took for Olive's doghouse - I still think staff housing is a valid business expense even if that staff has four legs and a mole patrol collar tag

plus I did my eyebrows this morning (yes, more grooming talk, sorry). The bad news? I’ll be spending the next several days looking surprised. The good news? I’m totally prepared if someone tells me a story with a twist ending. Also I saved 25 bucks.

you can't handle the truth .... or if the lawyers really looked like Matthew McConaughey this would be a whole other thing

... so I just rented out my couch

(not my actual couch, that we sit on and lie on and Olive sheds so much hair on that before we purchased it we asked the guy in the store if we could throw a little dog hair on it so we could visualize it in our actual livingroom ... but a vintage couch that is part of my vintage rental business - did I tell you I started a vintage rental business? no? well, I will just keep you all guessing about what the hell I am talking about then)

and checked my mailbox on the way back in the house and find a little white notice that says (cue the Jaws music here) JURY DUTY ... AGAIN, I thought I got out of it!

Now, I have been called to jury duty many times and the last time - I got on a case, was named foreman forewoman, found the guy guilty in less than 45 minutes and was home in 3 days.

But, I was a little more decisive in those days - things a little more black and white to me when I was younger - now that things are a little more grey it may be harder.

(yes, I like to spell it with an "e", the British way, makes me feel special and a little more refined - I have also stopped cursing .. sort of . .mostly .. sometimes. My brother stopped cursing last year when he started teaching music to children and I thought if he can do it, I can too, but it is a hard habit to unlearn)

When we were kids and my sister and I used bad words

(which we did as fast as we could learn them)

my grandmother would say "stop - say it another way" and make us take the curse word out of the sentence, so my sister's favorite 4th grade zinger would end up something like "your 'rearend' is grass", then my grandmother would nod her approval and go back to watching her stories.

Anyhoo - back to JURY DUTY ...

since I have been making more and more questionable (ie bad) decisions lately. I have begun to doubt myself. I can't even make a decision about where to go to lunch without it turning into the most trying ordeal anyone around me has ever experienced.

If someone asks - "what do you want to go eat?" - I brainfreeze. I will not decide. Hubby, unfortunately, has taken the brunt of this indecisiveness so when I told him I pulled jury duty, he said:

"If you make it on a jury it will end up being a hung jury ... because everyone else will hang themselves while you decide."

This from the ace decision-maker who went to Barnes and Noble before our trip to get magazines for both of us; proceeded to spend an hour picking out such bone-chilling, can't put it down reading material for himself as the Farmer's Almanac 2012 (I'm sure he almost had a coronary when he saw this baby was finally available), Dirtbike Digest, The Small Farmer's Guide to Livestock (Olive did not like the looks of this one) and The Model Car Builder (he wants to get 'back into them' - I do not like the looks of this one) - then grabbed the first thing he could lay his hands on for me - something with pirates on the cover - because

"I know you like pirates"

(I like pirates?!)

"No, I was saying 'talk like a pirate day' is coming up and I am going to give away some pirate jewelry. I didn't say I like pirates."

hubby *crickets*

(lost in article on the best model car glue for 2012)

Anyhoo, will let everyone know what is decided with jury duty - I am going to try again to get it postponed until January when I am slow

(and there is some potential for a snowday)

Also if you follow me on Twitter- watch for my pirate tweets tomorrow to win some pirate jewelry!

the last 168 hours ... AKA the girl math controversy - part l

yes, I'm still alive and kicking, all 112 lbs of me

(or was that what I weighed in 4th grade. high school, although I can still wear the same earrings I wore back then, please don't hate me, so that pretty much guarantees I am still the same size - I think this is called girl math)

anyhoo ...


Friday June 24th (picture me typing this on an old black Royal, pencil behind my ear, slugging back a nasty looking mug of black coffee) - I wake up thinking about team EcoEtsy's meet up -

(for those of you who are not so up on things like this, and if that is you, please get up on things like this because I can't keep stopping to explain things to you (smiles sweetly), this is a new way of saying "meeting" but without any actual meeting-like things going on, such as note-taking, yawning and daydreaming about the coffee and donuts at end of said meeting)

at Etsy headquarters at 6:00.

Since 2011 is my "year of deciding" I had decided to see just how last minute I could make my decision about whether or not to go to this meet up - I like to live on the edge.

(this is the same part of me that likes to go skydiving and mountain climbing and parasailing or wait, that's not me, that's some other girl, but that's how I kind of see myself)

A Friday late afternoon drive into Brooklyn (ok, who am I kidding, any drive into Brooklyn) followed by a Friday night, in the summer, drive back to the shore (if you've ever done this you can feel my pain, if you haven't just picture bumper to bumper traffic; cars stretched out in front of you as far as the eye can see with people who look slightly like Snookie and the Situation screaming obscenities at each other or making out on the hood of their car, not sure which would be worse) did not sound good.

Of course, the actual "meet-up" part in the middle of all this driving would make it all worth it - I would get to meet some amazing people, force myself out of my comfort zone and get to see the actual, physical Etsy.

Anyhoo, back to Friday morning

(and yes, this is going to be one of those long drawn out posts, grab a cup of tea or maybe one of those mega-caffeinated drinks to stay awake here)

I wake up feeling very sleepy positive. I check my morning email and there is a message from Tarot.com about a free one card tarot reading - I type in the words - "should I go to the meet up?"

(yes, this is how a year of deciding is done people)

Then I swish the cards around with my mouse and pick one.

Of course, I have forgotten what card comes up - maybe the 3 of cups? - whatever it is the meaning is a group of like minded people and the picture looks like they are having a party - so I'm thinking this is amazing, quickly favorite the site for more year of deciding decision making later on, and decide to go.

I mapquest the directions and try to figure out how many people will show up. The team has, I think, about 400 world-wide members so I take a guess at 15 (girl math again) and decide (without another Tarot reading because I couldn't get another free one until tomorrow plus I have to do some actual deciding on my own after all) to make 30 EcoEtsy cork necklaces - my thinking here is that since I didn't RSVP I better not show up empty handed.

Of course the hours are getting later, the skies grayer and I have to work fast. At about 2pm I am in my bathroom with a hairdryer hoping for some miracle dry-time results. Now, I am not claiming brain surgery here and this is a process I could likely teach to an 8 year old (and if I had one and a respirator to fit her, she would have been in that bathroom instead of me - extreme times call for extreme measures folks), but it takes time and this living by the seat of my pants lifestyle I have going on is challenging, again please don't hate me for this.

The necklaces are dry enough to go into the test tubes without sealing themselves to the glass like your grandma's dentures (which I hope for her sake ... and yours ... are in there pretty tight) and I finally get into my car at 4:00 - mapquest has told me I need 1 hour and 20 minutes to get there so (again using girl math) I quickly calculate an additional 40 minutes or 50% more time for traffic ...

it was something like this except I used my right index finger and the air in front of my face or maybe an abacus I am kind of old ---->

Well, the morning is flying and I have to get ready to watch the Casey Anthony trial to work so will finish this up tomorrow ... one heads up about the outcome - girl math sucks folks.

Whining Wednesday - send the kids to their rooms folks, this is going to get gross

So ... I haven't actually had the head cold I was pretending to have - I actually had

(drumroll please)

an exploded ovarian cyst.

KAPOW Batman!

Yes, it sounds gross and it is gross and in fact when I hear the word cyst I can't help but think about fluid filled things hanging off people's necks and arms and other places too unmentionable to mention.

Apparently your body can grow all kinds of things that you are not aware of

(well, maybe you are a tiny bit aware of - in the form of symptoms that you ignore, but it is hard to tell if you are bloated from an about-to-explode ovarian cyst or just too much guacamole at Chipotle's, especially when your stomach's normal state is a wee bit, uhm, slack, sorry stomach muscles I promise to give you some attention ... soon)

until you are suddenly curled into a ball, wincing in pain and asking Jesus, Buddha and Allah to carry you home.

(not that I did this)

I am actually pretty good with pain ...

(I was planning to have my daughter without any meds and when I finally gave in and asked for something - the doctor told me it was too soon; that I wasn't far enough along - ack - I realized every child-bearing woman on the planet had gotten farther than I did -

of course I was only 6 months pregnant at the time ...

I have also been known to pass out after stubbing my toe - but only once ... maybe twice)


The doctor asked me if I had been carrying anything heavy and I had carried alot of heavy whatnots at the Brimfield Flea Market a few days earlier and I had carried alot of heavy stuff to and from the Art Star craft show hours before.

(although their wonderful staff did help me carry things in and Noelle from Xenotees did help me carry stuff out, but I will still find a way to somehow blame hubby for not going with me to help haul things and a little hubby guilt can go a long way when someone has something exploded inside them and needs to be waited on hand and foot for a couple days month or two)

I have been still getting my orders made and mailed - yes, I know I am amazing - but during high pain periods

(these exploding cysts hurt for a few days while your body absorbs the blood - this is straight from the doctor folks although he used the word ruptured - I prefer "exploded", you can't make this kind of stuff up and yes, I know it is gross, I warned you - please don't hate me)

I have been watching Court TV - the Casey Anthony trial's jury selection which is very interesting. I would love to be on a jury in a high profile case -

but only if I get to stand up and shout "You Can't Handle The Truth!" or something Elle Woods said in Legally Blonde and only if the lawyer looks like Matthew McConaughey.

I actually was on a jury once - I was actually the jury foreman forewoman

(because I was seated in seat number 1; the judge asked me a couple questions to make sure I could put a proper sentence together and wasn't a complete nitwit and pronounced me the foreman)

and I will confess that during jury deliberations -

the case was about a guy who had run from the police by driving his car on the sidewalk and we had to decide if he had endangered other people by doing this -

I brought up the fact that I had been at that very intersection many times and it was always very busy with pedestrians -

something that I can see from watching the Casey Anthony trial jury selection I should never have said - being evidence not introduced during the trial and all -

I hope that poor guy isn't still in jail.

Well, I am back to bed now with my Nook, hubby is being wonderful and is downstairs cooking us all eggs, so even though I am only feeling a bit bloated and sore at the moment ... I am going to see how long I can run with this breakfast/dinner in bed thing ...

xo all
(hoping there are no little time bombs in any of you, but maybe get any symptoms checked out with your doctor - yes, you I'm talking to you)

If Your Karma Runs Over Your Dogma - don't panic, just sprinkle nuts ... the dry roasted kind ... (a wednesday whine of sorts)

I have a new friend -

(or a friend depending on who you talk to)

she is an artist who teaches Hindu to non-Hindus and we were talking about karma and I was telling her how I thought things happened almost instantaneously for me and how I have to be very careful that I never run over a squirrel

(or anything else, of course, but squirrels always seem to be getting in my way lately)

because I think an airplane or a giant oak tree or a UFO -

(which would totally be worth it to all the UFO crazies in my family who would finally have some actual proof of their existence - not that my family needs proof to believe in anything - and my sacrifice would be a small price to pay, although to be fair to them I am pretty certain they would erect an amazing martian memorial to me along the highway - they are just thoughtful that way)

would immediately crash and crush my car and that would be the end of me, too.

She assured me that it doesn't work like this.

(but she may have let me in on a little secret I will pass along - because if you do ever run over a squirrel, and please don't, but if you ever do there are certain squirrel tributes you can pay in the form of Planter's dry roasted around the neighborhood, so don't panic)

She didn't actually say this, of course, but she did tell me something else that was very interesting.

We were talking about truth and I said " ... if you lie to protect someone's feelings - say for example, when you thank your mother-in-law who has just given your hubby a 10 gallon jar of homemade pickled eggs again that he will want to eat every night and that will smell up your entire kitchen every time the jar is opened - well, that's not really being dishonest, right?"

And she said something that was kind of an aha moment for me -

(and I can't have an aha moment without picturing Oprah nodding solemnly)

"When you try to protect another soul from hurt, you are preventing them from learning their own lessons and this may earn karma - for you. You might like to consider that you were actually trying to shield yourself from feeling your mother-in-law's pain."

(of course this isn't an excuse to be mean to people, but I certainly could have related more honestly about the size of these picklings or maybe I'll just take my karma lumps - anytime anyone wants to lie to me to avoid hurting my feelings and balance my karma, I am ok with this)

She said the same thing about all the things we do for our kids to protect them from failure - that we are preventing them from learning things they are here to learn and we earn karma for ourselves for blocking their growth and this karma must then be balanced.

(this balancing is probably the part a few years later where they tell us they hate us and we are the worst parents on the planet)

Anyhoo, just something to think about while I stock up on Planter's and transfer the pickled eggs to smaller jars - can you transfer pickled things into smaller jars without repickling them? - hopefully I do not poison George - I don't even want to think about the kinds of things I will need to sprinkle around the neighborhood to balance that.

* more good days than bad print by Jen Lewis of JayHell

one guy's trash is another girl's excuse to dumpster dive ...


I am in the process of de-cluttering my life - making space for something new. This is a big undertaking for a packrat like me. Things and thoughts and emails and ... well, mostly crap actually ... is making life feel a little heavier around here than I like it to feel and even though I mostly love my crap

some of it just has to go ...

In the process of my own de-cluttering, I discovered that in a totally unconnected passion to untie some knots and clear some space, my brother and his wife were doing a massive de-cluttering of their own house -

they rented a huge metal dumpster, to toss everything that is not recyclable, and it has been sitting in their driveway for a week.

(they are totally lucky they live where they do because in my neighborhood a dumpster in your driveway for a week would be filled while you sleep with 3 barcaloungers, 2 tires from a '79 Pinto and a toothless guy named Pete would already be unpacked, settled in and receiving mail and guests)

When I heard about this I had to head over there and check out just what they were throwing out -

(I truly tried to hold back because I really don't need anyone else's stuff - I paced around my house, bit my nails, reread the Oprah cut the clutter issue, ate a poptart, tried to remember just what the hell they had in their garage anyway - but finally I gave in to my inner dumpster diver and drove over there)

It was kind of like this ----->


(except I was wearing way cooler shoes)



Anyhoo, I grabbed up some of the beautiful pottery the two of them created at art school in Boston -

(not sure what I am going to do with it all or how it fits into my own de-cluttering, but something tells me my life can use the kind of grounding this large pile of lovingly handcrafted clay is offering up)
a book on HTML for dummies and some CDs that were about to go to Best Buy including Harry Chapin, Jeff Beck and Pat Benatar.

(WTH Vinnie - tossing Pat Benatar?!)

So maybe I took a little step backwards, but it is all good because life is a process after all and some things cannot be rushed. Things are still getting de-cluttered around here because I know I need to create some awfully large space in my life for the awfully large, awfully amazing stuff that is coming my way.

At first when hubby saw boxes coming into the house he was all - "what the heck, I thought we were getting rid of stuff" - but then he saw the gorgeous pots and bowls and thingamajigs and he was smitten, too

and the Frank Zappa, did I mention there was a Frank Zappa?

(WTH Vinnie?!)

* let it go print by the amazing Nan Lawson (who also has a locket or two)

No Whining on Wednesday or a birthday prophecy that wasn't, string cheese and electric cigarettes ...

Most people I know hate February

and even though I am not a snow person or a cold weather person and should definitely be living somewhere warmer than New Jersey now that I think about it -

I love February.

I think it is because my birthday is in February

(and hubby's birthday, too actually)

and even though I am not any kind of party girl and may soon require a stapler to keep my eyelids from interfering with my vision, for some crazy reason I still look forward to it.

Saturday was my big day and in the morning I ran out to get the newspaper because I needed to read the "if TODAY is your birthday" horoscope that I never miss

and it read:

"... use excellent judgement to formulate plans for the future this month and you can't go wrong"

(uh, am I supposed to just wake up with excellent judgement all of sudden - this one could be trouble)

and it also read:

"you are willing to claw your way up the ladder of success ..."

(which had me wishing for the gazillionth time in my life that I wasn't a nail-biter - this is definitely one de-clawed Cat - I climb my ladders one step at a time with both hands on the outer rungs hanging on for my life, thank you very much)

but it is nice to know there is some ambitious inner catwoman buried deep (very deep) inside me in case I ever have to scratch my way past any of you on my way to the top of the crafty world.

You may remember -

(I like to delude myself that someone is actually reading and remembering what I writing here)

that I go to a psychic every year around my birthday,

but ever since she asked me for a job I haven't been back to see her ...

and she is most likely a highly efficient, creative person and would be a tremendous help to me, but how would it be possible to work with a psychic -

I kind of imagine something like ...

me - Can you go the post office now and mail today's orders?

psychic Sue - I don't think that is a good idea.

me - What do you mean?

psychic Sue - I have a sense that this is something you should do.

me - Oh, ok ... well, while I'm gone can you ...

psychic Sue - Um ... I think it would be best if I just go home now. I am seeing that you need to be alone today for your best success


(of course, I can see a potential upside to working with a psychic, too - like maybe I will never launch another piece that doesn't sell ever again, but I'm just not sure I could handle thinking she knew something I didn't

although if I eliminated people who know more than me from my life that would leave me pretty much .. well, alone, actually)


plus she carries a huge nylon tote filled with string cheese and I get freaked out by dairy products that do not require refrigeration

plus
I saw that episode of Real Housewives with Allison DuBois

(the real psychic my favorite tv show Medium is based on)

and she was a real nutcase and most likely caused psychics everyhere to lose alot of psychic business, but I guess they should have seen that coming, huh?

(if you watch the tv show Medium and have not seen the Real Housewives episode you must google it now)

Bottom line -I did not get my usual birthday year predictions, although of course with my year of deciding upon me now, any predictions are out the window anyway except the one hubby made that I cannot get any more neurotic.

(trust me, I'll find a way)

* this ain't no disco print by jaimers
* psychic fortunes print by Emily Balivet

Whining Wednesday - or a Christmas fable of a girl, her dog and the smelly guy at the post office

Actually, I know it's Tuesday because Tuesday is stinky guy day at my post office

(I send Olive in and look how excited she is about it)

Her sense of smell is, of course, about a gazillion times better than mine, so this is especially cruel

(please don't report me)

No clue how anyone could possibly cultivate a stench this powerful and still remain unaware of it.

This is not the smell of hard work and sweat - a totally relatable smell to us makers during the holiday season as we rush to get our goods into the mail

(so they can get smashed and lost just in time for the holidays)

No, not a hard work kind of smell just a very bad smell and somehow no matter how I time my Tuesday shipping I always meet up with this guy.

(the smell is what I would imagine it would be if dead animals threw up on his clothing and then he filled the pockets full of hard boiled eggs and left it all in his car trunk for a year ... in the desert)

On the other hand, I do get freaked out if a gigantic bodybuilder kind of guy smells like fabric softener.

(maybe the holiday rush is making me punchy)

When I was unemployed

(and that should narrow it down to, um, most of the time between 2001-present)

there was this huge guy at the gym.

He had a tattoo composed of about 50 human skulls inked on one arm and it was of lesser quality, if you know what I mean, like it could have been done over the course of a short prison term - say breaking and entering maybe - using a ballpoint pen and a thumbtack.

And, it was always unnerving to me when I'd see him throwing up in a trashcan after he'd dead lifted the equivalent of a Ford dealership and he'd still be smelling like a Care Bear ... yes, the pink one.

So, I don't like guys who smell bad and I don't like guys who smell good. No clue what this says about me. Luckily hubby is a kind of non-smeller who rarely even needs deodorant, but maybe this is too much information ... sorry.

(like I said, the holidays are making me punchy)

So, for everyone out there who is spending these last couple weeks leading up to Christmas running around like a maniac getting everything done and working up a sweat, I just wanted to tell you that I'm right there with you, I can feel your pain and frankly Olive can smell you from here ....

No Whining on Wednesdays or some things you "surely" do not want to miss

Um - let's just say if your mother was named after ---->

and you were named after your mother,

you might just want to use your middle name, too ...

Congrats to Cathy, Kate and Katie - all three figured out my little riddle and instead of drawing for a prize winner I'm just going to give a locket to each of them - the Partridge family mom trivia was so obscure that everyone deserves a prize for that one!

This is Not a Real Whine, Really

Anyhoo, hubby and I took a little unplanned road trip this past weekend and I realized just how bad a certain someone's memory has become.

me (reading mapquest printout - yes, we have a GPS, but it is even less trustworthy than mapquest) - okay so we are on this road for 120 miles and then we take exit 27

hubby - ok

hubby - (10 minutes later) you said exit 14?

me - no, exit 27

hubby - (7 minutes later) how long are we on this road?

me - until exit 27

hubby - (20 minutes later) that was exit 29?

me - *crickets*

It is not an exaggeration to say this scenario was repeated at almost every road change - I am not sure what this means - but this is getting scary since I am counting on his memory to make up for the ever increasing gaps in my own ...

And
, even though it was just the two of us in the car, once a mom always a mom, so in addition to sunscreen (yes, the zinc kind), I brought hand sanitizer, wet ones, tylenol, band aids, paper towels, tissues, a box of teddy grahams and grapes - because "we need to eat some fruit".

So, I learned from this trip some important things:

1. When the road signs in South Carolina say 65 mph they actually mean 65 mph

2. How to talk with a mouth full of teddy grahams

3. Where to get three cases of diet pepsi for $10

4. GPS will always let you down - BRING A MAP

5. The same man who always instinctively knows when he is facing north, west, etc (yes, even when blindfolded and spun in a circle - I've done it) - cannot remember one road or exit from the next and can no longer be counted on to NOT GET US LOST

6. I have set up my life so that Every Single Thing needs to be done by me and I need to change this SOON or my head will explode

(we actually saw some evidence of the exploding head syndrome on our road trip and I am certain these animals had set up their lives to do everything themselves and were unable to delegate and had no one to delegate to and so were forced to make that final trek across the highway themselves - it did not end well for them)

road trip print by Dolan Geiman

Whining Wednesday - without the actual ... well, whining

I can't really whine because I am way too much a glass half full

(with vodka)

kind of girl these days, so let's just call this a Wednesday fireside chat

(because it's Wednesday and hot enough to start a fire)


Chat 1 - My bud Sherry Truitt's excellent research into what does and does not work with our banner ad advertising "campaigns" has me realizing that I have not done any extensive research in a long time.

(maybe since I was a child when I put a wet washcloth on a piece of bread and lay it in the back of the broom closet to see if I could grow mold - I could - I also once took the telephone apart)

Remember when we did research instead of googling things? Now, we suspect that someone else has already done the research and it would be a waste of our time to re-search, so we search google for five minutes and either get our answer or give up.

But, Sherry has inspired me and I am going to research something .... not sure what yet, but the idea of little graphs and charts

(with maybe some action figures thrown in from my happy meal collection)

really gets my juices flowing ... it has to be something I can do in pencil, too ... I really need a reason to use my graphite.

Chat 2 - OK, so was anyone else stunned to see Nicole get voted off Work of Art?! I was speechless. I had to do a couple laps around my studio to make sure I was still on planet Earth.

Granted that nature piece was not her best work ... but still ...

Chat 3 - On Friday I will have my first acupuncture treatment - I am curious if anyone has done this.

My bud Kristen Tercek recommended a local healer she and her hubby have seen a couple times named Shelby Sickles. I am thinking with a name like that she has to be good.

<---- (kind of like these guys)

I will let everyone know how that goes. Have been having the tingling in arm and fingers and shoulder pain for a while again, so hoping this "energy reset" will help.

(editor's note- so after I wrote this I was warned about acupuncture bruising and have been thinking that bruises all over my neck before a show is probably not a good idea - maybe I will have to do a little research about this - better grab my Speed Racer action figure and a sharpened number 2 for this one ... )

Chat 4 - I am off to Vegas in a few days. My sister is meeting me there to help me at Pool and we have already decided that if we are going to lose money, it is going to be through shopping - hoping some of those cash and carry tables will have a minimum purchase of ... well ... one item ... - and not through a poorly played hand of blackjack.

(neither of us are gamblers, unless you count our willingness to use public restrooms and eat street food)

Also hoping that what happens in Vegas, doesn't stay in Vegas and I come home with a few new wholesale accounts.

Well, got nothing else. Busy making jewelry and packing things up and trying to stay cool through this hottest summer on record!

Whining Wednesday - stuff that is stressing me out, will be stressing me out or had been stressing me out

1. The current stress - I am just a few weeks away from my first ever trade shows and I am suddenly realizing that I have a gazillion things to do and no time to do them.

So, if you pop over here and see no posts feel free to envision me in some kind of manic craziness where I am subsisting largely on the kind of cellophane-wrapped mistakes only available at my local Wawa -

deliriously humming the theme song from the Titanic - did I tell you the first said trade show is called Pool - as in someone please throw me a life preserver, you get the picture - and barking orders at my assistant; ie Olive, who is actually the only one around here who can get anything done.


And that these tradeshows, added to my normally massive amount of personal issues and annoyances have created an overdose type of situation where I am either manic or catatonic but either way unable to sign into blogger.

Please forgive me when this happens. I see it coming. I have taken on too much and unwisely used my time watching the Real Housewives of New Jersey and New York and all the other housewives that don't seem to ever have any type of actual homemaking responsibilties, but like car crashes are hard to resist watching.

And yes, the tradeshow design above looks amazing, but nothing like the real thing which is actually still a figment of my imagination, too, but luckily I have always been very good with a deadline.

(I just hope the word dead isn't the word I will be using to explain the final outcome).

2. The old stress - After many weeks The Artisans Collective website is launched!

My brother and I designed this site and even though some of the potential bells and whistles had to be trashed, it keeps the form and function of its intention and can't help but be beautiful with all the amazing artists on this incredible team. I am loving it!

(although I do worry a bit about their sanity for letting me anywhere near this website, no clue why they thought I could do this- I guess because I said I could, silly artists)

3. The future stress - ok, so you may remember the crop circle incident of last month and also my failure to get the documentary evidence that some demanded requested

(my excuse - it happened at dusk, it didn't occur to me and by the time I saw the potential for a Wednesday whine in it - everything was blown around)

but, since we have been fairly convinced this was a squirrel/corn take-down situation I have been on the lookout for any signs of unusual super squirrel activity to try and track down the culprit.


Now, I realize these are not the best images, but I was working through a window which may not have been cleaned in a while due to all my Real Housewives watching the work I've been doing lately.

The squirrel got the lid off the trash can, ripped open the trash bag, grabbed an entire slice of cheese pizza, dragged the pizza across the yard and up a tree (where the cheese likely got stuck on the branch) - a couple hours later it was gone, so I'm sure Super Squirrel got a couple other members of her Super Squirrel posse to give her a hand and they got it unstuck.

I think the Super Squirrel situation here in New Jersey

(which may or may not be connected to the superfund clean up site designation of our local gas station)

is creating crop circle making, pizza stealing, Linda Blair head spinning

(I forgot to mention that when Super Squirrel looked up at me through the window she gave me a freaky Exorcist head twist that had me grabbing a pair of scissors and my neighbor's 12 year old son before I ventured outside)

super rodents (and yes, squirrel lovers, squirrels are rodents, I looked it up) that may be plotting some type of backyard takeover we had better all be ready for.

Also I have poison ivy that hasn't gone away in a month and I guess I have to give up and see a doctor and I can't help but think there is some kind of Super Squirrel connection in this, too. I am sure some research on my part, which I am way too lazy busy to do right now, would tell me that squirrels are impervious to poison ivy

and since these Super Squirrels spend alot of time outside my bedroom window, they have had plenty of opportunities to stuff some poison ivy leaves into the air conditioner or something equally clever ... sigh

Now, there are some positive things about stress, like the kind of endorphins, serotonin and dopamine rush that athletes get and I am sure this will be kicking in for me ... any day now ... in the meantime I better get my head back into my linesheets and my eyes on Super Squirrel ...

Whining Wednesday - yes, it's back, but just for one week because I'm a glass half full kind of girl now

I have been aching to whine for weeks

I mean it is in my DNA,

but I have been busy staying positive and professional and all that.

Since it is the first week of summer and the birds are singing, the bees are buzzing, the kids are BORED .. I think it is time to whine a little ...

Whine 1 - I cut myself shaving. I know, I know we all do that. But I cut my face shaving my legs.

Let me set the stage without being too indelicate ...

I was in the shower and reached the razor behind my head to put it under the water so I could rinse it off and as I did, I felt the cold razor blade on my face and suddenly I was bleeding ... alot.

My first response was a bit of a freak-out thinking I had just scarred the only 50 square inches (how many square inches is a face do you think) of my anatomy left unscarred from one mishap or another,

but once I got a little bit calmed down realized that I had just cut my face shaving my legs and would get to wear one of those tiny little pieces of bathroom tissue stuck to my face for a little while, which was actually kind of cool, although I was the only one home and no one would see me.

So, I kept checking out the window for the UPS driver, so he could see my tissue-papered injury and I would get to announce - yeah, just cut my face ... shaving my legs ... but that never happened.

Whine 2 - this is kind of a little lesson wrapped in a whine - my chiropractor raised his prices and my health insurance doesn't cover chiropractic care

(or dental care or vision care or any of the other things I guess we are not really supposed to require)

even though hubby and I pay over $8000.00 a year for it ... sigh


Anyhoo, he raised his prices and it honestly wasn't very much of a price increase and I was actually sort of ok with it until I happened to be in the parking lot last week when he pulled in -

and I saw his brand new, incredibly shiny, incredibly red JAGUAR

and this little resentful voice in my head immediately was all

"well, this we do not like."

He had gotten an expensive new car, and I judged that a little bit.
(actually, he had gotten an expensive new Jaguar and I judged that alot)

And that voice continued with, “Is this why I am paying more?"

"Who does he think he is?!”

Ouch ...

So, I had to take a breath and sit with my little self-righteous self for a minute and think this all through. What exactly was I judging here?

Because here’s the deal - I know we are not meant to stay small. I know we are not meant to be broke.

My chiropractor is very good. Why doesn't he get to drive a Jaguar? I don’t want to stay small. So, why would I want him to stay small?

Even though my idea of EXPANSION is not a Jaguar - what was my real problem with this?

(it wasn't a Hummer, for pete's sake)

Whine 3 - We've got crop circles. Well, we don't exactly have crops and we don't exactly have circles, but we've got something in our corn ... or what used to be our corn ... or what could have been our corn ...

Let me set the scene - hubby goes outside to water the farm garden and he comes inside for about 30 seconds to get a drink of water

(he will not drink hose water or let Olive drink it - personally I am not bothered by the bacteria growing in the 100 degree, 100 feet of plastic tubing, but I am a tough Jersey girl after all)

He goes back outside. He then comes in screaming the kind of four letter words that even I will not lay down on paper. The corn was dead- all the corn was cut off as if with a little sickle, every single stalk within the 30 seconds it took George to walk across the yard, into the house, drink a glass of water and walk back outside.

"Is this some kind of f---ng joke!", he is yelling up at the trees.

The most logical (if there is one) explanation is that this was a very hot day, he had just watered the corn, corn stalk leaves hold water very well, some tiny little thirsty critter gang had rushed the corn stalks for the water and cut every stalk off at the base to get to the leaves ...

(or maybe the corn was just tired and wanted to lay down ... like forever)
it was something like this -----> ... well, sort of

16 stalks in 30 seconds

some kind of crop circle making record, I am sure.

Hubby later described this to people as the stalks being cut almost all the way through, almost down to the very base and then pushed over, just like you would cut down a tree ...

When he said this, I caught his eye and held it. He knew what I was thinking.

He knew I was thinking about the trees we had just cut down. The trees that, although rotted, were also in the way of his farm garden and his sunset just like his little cornstalks were in the way of that critter gang getting to its water supply.

Of course, hubby thinks I am the kind of person who sees signs in all sorts of ridiculous things, including burned toast crumbs.

(which was just that one time, when they happened to fall into an amazing silhouette of a dangerously bent bicycle and had me driving my car to the post office that day ... just in case)

And of course, since I am the kind of girl who turns lemons into lemonade

(well, cans of frozen lemon concentrate anyway)


let me recap (1) if we see a girl with a piece of bathroom tissue stuck to her face, maybe we should feel a bit of shock and awe for the type of shower manuever she was most likely performing and not assume she had just popped some kind of gigantic pimple

and (2) when someone gets a new car, even if that car is a bit much and that someone is someone we are paying- maybe especially if that someone is someone we are paying, be happy that our money has expanded their world and know that it is busy expanding ours, too.

and (3) when crop circles happen just think of the great story this will make one day (and next year plant your corn with some critter-proof fencing like all the other vegetables or at least get some kind of video monitoring system installed to determine which critter gang is responsible for the carnage and maybe win yourself a free year's supply of dog food on that amazing animal tv show).

Life is a classroom folks. Lessons are everywhere.

crop circle digital print by SkinkInk

Friday Finds - proof in advertising that the good old days weren't always good


Well, my trusty Friday Finds girl, Kella MacPhee is off shooting a wedding in South Carolina, so I have collected some proof of what I have long suspected and what your mother probably never told you - the good old days weren't always good (hopefully no one is putting any of these on a scrabble tile pendant).






No Whining on Wednesday but maybe a status update since I'm sure you've been wondering

My latest projects - I've been working on new linesheets and a series of new mini lockets,

but more importantly I am currently on Day 4 of my Crest white strips program.

I'm not sure there's any actual whitening going on, except for about 30 seconds immediately following their removal (maybe) and I think they are making my teeth more sensitive.

This sensitivity might be how they actually work. Maybe after a week of not eating or drinking, people are too disgusted by your prominent ribcage and distended abdomen to notice your coffee-stained teeth.

(I'll stick with it though because I am not a quitter, dammit)

This is reminding me that there is a kiosk in my local mall with tooth whitening where a girl in a dentist-like lab coat,

(that just screams medical professional, I think she also sells the $200.00 ionic hair curlers)

does something to you that resembles some kind of dental torture while strangers stare and point and laugh,

(not that this has happened to me)

because I do my tooth whitening at home, like a normal person who has spent way too much time with coffee on her teeth.

My latest injury - I tumbled off the front steps while hanging a hummingbird feeder and smashed my kneecap onto a cement birdbath. I then broke the world record for cursing out hummingbirds with 20 curse words in 20 seconds

(Ripley's is coming out next week; I think the hummingbirds are planning a protest)

What I'm reading - I am on a Swedish detective kick, brought on by The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo series. I ran through that author too quickly and moved on to Henning Mankell.

(I am more convinced than ever that I should be doing detective work in Sweden; I think they need me, plus I want to learn how to pronounce all these consonent clusters)

What I'm listening to - Hubby snore and Olive "dream chase" a squirrel while I eagerly await my new Macy Gray, expected on my door step next week

What I'm watching - Life on the Discovery channel but somehow Oprah's voice is ruining it for me- I miss Sigourney ...

I was planning a post for today on pricing our work and will pop one out soon, but the weather was just too nice for me to settle down with something serious- I write my weekly posts on Sundays and it is just too gorgeous here to work today! Happy Cinco de Mayo!


1. Nobody cares about your status updates tee by herrohachi
2. Fingerprint men's tee by nonfictiontees
3. Smile pretty print by thelittleprints
4. Imprintme silver fingerprint necklace by AliBaliJewellery
5. Sherlock Holmes paperweight by Ephemeralogie
6. Hummingbird TTV photo by theeye

20 Ways to Make Sure You Are Never Uncomfortable..

I once had a co-worker, who we will just call Cyndy Bennis

(because that was her name)

and she had an obsession with the office temperature

it was too hot

it was too cold


the thermostat was, of course, right next to my desk

one day after my gazillionth temperature adjustment

I said: "no flippin' more!"

(or maybe something a little bit stronger, this office was in Jersey)

and Cyndy said: "I'm sorry. But I just don't like to be uncomfortable."

(she kind of rocked my world that day because although I would never have voiced this out loud - and groaned when she did - I was often making choices that created exactly that kind of life)

Now I'm not about to rally for uncomfortableness

(and yes, you can totally use this word in your next Scrabble game just offer up this post and not an actual dictionary as proof of its wordiness)

because of course, it is kind of our nature to crave the comfortable, the warm and fuzzy, the familiar ... but there is something to be said for pushing past all that; pushing into the uncomfortable - the place where things can go either way

incredibly good or horribly bad

the place where things just don't stand still and something new has to happen.

Today (my older and wiser self) might offer up to Cyndy some advice on keeping life comfortable:

1. Do not get a dog.

2. Watch tv while you eat dinner with your kids so you don't have to deal.

3. Don't go to any kind of live performance because there will be really long lines.

4. Don't try anything you don't already know you will be able to do.

5. Use every type of available drive up window so you never have to leave your car.

6. Leave well enough alone.

7. Leave good enough alone.

8. Buy your clothes in the same store all the time.

9. Get your library books from the same section every time.







10. Never wear anything as cool as these ... again ----->








11. Let things happen to you. Don't make choices.

12. Never get out of your pajamas (wait, maybe scratch that one)

13. Don't watch the movie Precious because it will make you cry.

15. Never exercise.

16. Toss your rake and get a leafblower (thanks Sherry).

17. Do it for the money.

18. Do it for the approval.

19. Seek security above all else.

20. Find a comfortable spot ... and stay there.

I hope Cyndy wouldn't take this advice. I hope she is somewhere right now, all happy and warm and fuzzy and yes, a little bit uncomfortable, too. And I really hope she has a dog ... and some kick-ass shoes.

print above of Uncomfortable Situation by CordialKitten

1. Cutting Edge T-shirt by Xenotees
2. Pendant with butterfly and vintage buttons by QuenchMetalworks
3. Modern tree rings by FocusLineArt
4. Simplify by SimpleRoots
5. Slice oil painting on textured canvas by Teamzvonik

No Whining on Wednesday or why are people in Nevada searching for mosquito dunks and ending up here


As part of my SEO immersion I have been checking out (while watching American Idol) .. carefully studying .. my google analytics to see just what it is that I am saying that helps people find me on here.

(for anyone not familiar- google analytics is a service to see what kind of web traffic your website, blog, etc is getting, where that traffic is coming from and the kind of things that people are searching for when they find you)

So, although these search terms seem a bit strange, I am going to trust Google and the googlers and work these search phrases that people seem to have found me with into today's post in hopes of drawing even more traffic in here.


(traffic with credit cards and paypal accounts hopefully, because baby needs a new pair of shoes ...

<------ and by baby I mean me and by shoes I mean these Ciao Bella's - aren't they cuties?)


1. Squirrellicious - Actually this is an easy one because squirrellicious is a word I use alot ... really.

In fact, people who know me are all like that girl is totally squirrellicious.

(it could be a hair thing)

and there is a totally adorable Etsy shop called Squirrellicious

(coincidence? I think not, squirrelincidence? ...maybe)

2. The Race to Wear Plastic - Now this makes total sense because I have been in a race to figure out more ways to incorporate plastic into my wardrobe since I lost my Alice in Wonderland wrist watch in the 1st grade...

(on the playground during recess and my teacher Miss Rehak(?) refused to search my classmates pockets and lunchbags; a situation that left me crying and demanding a Nazi-like siege on the school grounds and fostered a growing distrust of authority figures and inability to work a wrist strap)

3. Ivins Reservoir Itch - I think I am just going to leave this one alone- I am not sure what the people at my local reservoir have been saying about me, but I can assure you that I only did this that one time and well ... I just don't want to talk about it.

4. Mosquito Dunks for Sale in Las Vegas - This is my favorite. I did do a blog post on mosquito dunks once and have probably mentioned Las Vegas

(although I've never been, but hear what happens there stays there, kind of like the fast food fries in my car that Olive just can't quite reach)

and I have almost certainly used the word 'sale' many, many times.

(as in hello- this is a sale, please buy something, baby really, really needs those shoes)

And I am certain the person in Nevada searching for those mosquito dunks was very happy to stumble in here and find some recycled jewelry he didn't even know he was needing.

Of course, there are also plenty of searches for more relevant things, but if I can draw 'em in here with Ivins Reservoir Itch and Squirrellicious and The Race to Wear Plastic and Mosquito Dunks for Sale in Las Vegas

(best to work these all in one more time)

then I think I can do pretty much anything, right?

**Special in both my shops Uncorked and Polarity for the next 10 days - just say one of these search phrases or something similar, no penalties if you say groundhoglicious or the race to wear aluminum foil- I'm just not that kind of seller

(unlike other businesses out there that ignore you if you don't cross every t and dot every i or actually mail in one of their entry forms- damn you Publisher's Clearing House)

in the comments to seller section of your order and receive a free set of earrings with any purchase**


1. Amazing ivy aid - natural poison ivy relief from B. Noel Aromatics
2. Stunning rainbow punk plastic necklace by DarklyngStudios
3. Fun toteBag by GoldieFawn
4. Beautiful red bird cardholder by Squirrellicious
5. Adorable mosquito card by SouthernPestPrints

Sticks and Stones or how to stop being so sensitive that your teeth hurt


Now, sometimes I like to think that I write posts that are lessons I've learned and would like to pass on, but sometimes I think they are really just lessons for me.

(this could be ... is ... one of those times)

I am sometimes very thin-skinned. I know this about myself and it is something I am continually working on.

In my brain I can clearly see that everything is not all about me.

(except on this blog - which is why I have one, sort of)

I know that criticism is sometimes about the other person and sometimes something that I have only imagined and I know that very often it is not personal. I know all of this ... in my head.

But some other part of me gets ... well, hurt and often much more hurt than the situation requires.

In her book "The Highly Sensitive Person", Dr. Elaine Aron says that in evolutionary terms, being sensitive to criticism could be a lifesaver. "Back when we were hunter-gatherers, being excluded from the group was very dangerous. We might have starved or even gone insane from being ostracized. We are very social animals."

(now, I have never thought of myself as any kind of social animal, but I guess it is in my DNA and I will gladly blame my ancestors ... adding sensitivity to the list that includes bad hair and mild OCD)

Our sensitivity to the negative opinions of others is so strong, she says, that we record these emotional wounds in the same part of the brain as actual physical pain.

Now there is some good news here because sensitivity to other people's opinions of us (and brooding and smarting over inconsequentials) is the most adjustable type of sensitivity and I am determined to adjust mine.

(and of course this sensitivity means these are things that I actually care about ... deeply. If someone were to insult my housekeeping skills or singing voice - both pretty bad - I could shrug those things off in a second, but insult the things that matter and watch out)

So here's my gameplan:

1. Rewrite my mornings. I usually hop on the computer as soon as I am alone in the house, but this immediately opens me up to external things- sometimes good, but sometimes not so good; an email from a customer that she accidentally gave me the wrong shipping address ... to Australia ... for a 3 piece uninsured order that left my house the day before - can get me off to a rocking bad start.

But if I take some time for me first, before I open myself up to all that external stuff, I will be better able to separate the problem (if there is one) from myself. So from now on - a morning coffee, stretching and shower before I let the outside world in.

2. Clear things up right away. If something feels strange or out of balance, I will check in with the other person right away. How many times do we think we know what the other person is thinking and when we finally talk it out- we were way wrong about what was really going on.


3. Be ready to move on. Putting all our eggs in one basket is a good way to ensure we will take the outcome personally.

(good when things go our way and bad when they don't, but really always bad because it puts our emotions and happiness and stress level under the control of someone else)

I was turned down last week for a show I was really counting on ... looking forward to ... because "they were full with jewelry" and of course, being an insanely sensitive person I took this to mean "we don't like your work" when what they probably really meant was "they were full with jewelry".

Next time, I will have a list of other options available. I will move on down my list if someone says no. I will find that something else that is waiting for me.

4. Get enough sleep. I am much more sensitive when sleep deprived and stressed.

5. Give myself permission to zap 'em once in a while. I will keep a few zingers in my arsenal because sensitivity can be a strength also and it is often the sensitive people who say exactly the right thing.

(I think)

things such as - "Excuse me?"

(now this must be said very calmly and with a straight face as if we really do not understand what we just heard)

Asking someone to repeat a thoughtless comment is a graceful way to make them think twice about what they just said ... and maybe rephrase it if we have misunderstood.

"I wonder why you would say that"

The kinder gentler version of "what the hell does that mean?" challenges the person to reflect on his/her motives.

"Ouch! That hurt my feelings."

This lets someone know we've taken a comment personally

but I will use my zingers carefully and for the big things and learn to let the small things slide.

5. Keep things in perspective - who we are becoming on this journey of ours is much more important than what happens to us.

When we get beyond taking things personally and allow ourselves to choose a different way to respond, we will become more and more unflappable and happy.

At least, this is my plan, I'll keep you posted ...

(no stopping ever poster by EvenAndy)