The intern packed up her carpetbag and rode away. I felt like we should hug but we didn’t – hugs are best left out of print shops. She made this before she left:
Go, my young grasshopper, go and use the life-skills I so generously shared with you.
I regret not jumping into Lake Superior last week. I’m kidding, I don’t regret that. I regret not pushing that weird guy into Lake Superior last week. He was yelling, “the effing dog ate my pills! The effing dog ate my pills!” That poor wiener dog was trying to end its own sad life. Anyway, here’s a photo of Lucy and Jenny braving the frigid waters:
Lake Superior is the poor man’s ocean, just like my Reprex
(notice the vice grips)
is the poor man’s Vandercook.
But I must make do.
I must make do because that’s how I was programmed. The project du jour is a print involving lots of words. And because I’m a daredevil, I decided to lock up the type in a vertical formation. This is not for the faint of heart. The type and I both felt creepy when it was over and now we can’t even make eye contact.
The third instructional video is complete for the Jelly Shot Test Kitchen. If only children could drink alcohol these would be perfect for a Summer birthday party.
I have noticed that a lot of people around me have “plans” and “schedules.” That is something I’ve always wanted. Even my days of “working outside of the home” seemed haphazardous. I never knew if or how I’d get to work – would it be the city bus? My friend’s pick-up truck? A ride from a stranger? On foot? A police escort? Would I be able to pull-off a cup of coffee before work? Everyone talked about that – the coffee. “Whew, I barely had time for my coffee this morning, the dog just wouldn’t do his business!” They had coffee pots with timers – they’d wake up to the smell and sound of a fresh brewing pot. They’d fill their travel mugs and commute to work.
Why couldn’t I be like these people?
My snooze button (invented by the devil) would be pushed at least twice, granting me temporary amnesty – more time to dream about using inappropriately located toilets. A shower could happen but more than likely would not. Teeth brushed just in time to smoke a cigarette and tie my son’s shoes.
I know what you’re thinking: Glamorous.
A few weeks ago, I started doing the unthinkable: Waking up early and not forcing myself to fall back to sleep.
I actually get out of bed.
I get out of bed, make a smoothie filled with micro-nutrients and whole-food concentrate and go for a bike ride. It seems that other people DO THIS TOO. The paths are full of “others.”
I haven’t decided if I hate myself for being one of these people. Time will tell.
Anyway, number 7 of the Shea 8 will be getting married this Summer and she needed a program – I gladly volunteered and these were created yesterday:
They will contain a disc of music from the ceremony. Understated and cool. Just like my sister. Notice my crummy thumbnail in the upper-left.
(why is she so angry all the time??) is getting married this weekend and I designed/Jen printed some invitations for the blessed event.
The event will be very celebrity-heavy. By “celebrity” I mean “family.” It will be full of family. You can crash the wedding if you want – but no pictures. Just kidding. Take pictures – I can’t stop you.
Pat Carney stumbled into our dimension on Friday for the Gute photo shoot.
Edmund made latte after latte while Loretta babbled in the background. We think she was talking about Pam the kitten/her prisoner. Anyway, I had to punch Pat in the face to get one latte away from him for a prop. He took it like a man. Except for the tears.
I’M IN THE HOT AIR BALLOON FLOATING OVER YOU AND MARTHA!!
I knew it… She is walking to the mailbox to send a Zeichen Press card!
She ordered a bunch from our online shop, but due to doctor/patient (I’m the doctor in this scenario) confidentiality, I cannot divulge which cards she chose.
I CAN tell you that she is concerned about a funny-looking mole on her mom’s bottom.
My older brothers had a bunk bed, my little brother had his own bed and my sister and I shared a queen-sized bed.
We also shared countless hours of strange bedtime rituals: she would put on her school uniform (white blouse and brown plaid jumper) and pull her nightgown over it — that was for early morning efficiency… I would skip the uniform step and go right to the nightgown.
I was so slow!
She would coat her arms in Elmer’s Glue,
I would dress and redress Raggedy Ann.
I don’t know if she shared my fear of the monster under the bed.
No, what am I saying? She did not. In fact, she created the fear!
That’s the sound that March makes — that and a muffled sobbing. February triggers cabin fever but March in Minnesota is far more dangerous.
Here’s a story about March: One Christmas, Santa put a baby albino rabbit under the tree — so delightful!
The little rabbit grew into a big rabbit and by the next Winter, our basement smelled like the bunny barn at the State Fair. With scraps of wood and a bale of hay, I built an outdoor rabbit hutch.
In a pinch, it could serve as a coffin for an adult man.
IN A PINCH.
By March it was buried under several feet of snow and I’d order my eldest to go spend time with the rabbit in the snow coffin.
The moral of the story is: Get a dog.
And something about March creating crazy. Thank God I have an outlet for my March crazy:
My high school English teacher told the class that if we looked up the word ‘glib’ in the dictionary, there would be a picture of me.
She was right!
I think I felt insulted.
I’m sure Jen’s high school English teacher said something similar about her.
And if not, she should have.
What does this have to do with angry parents or a new card?
Obviously, my glibness was not celebrated at home. In fact, it was frowned upon — can you believe it?!
And Jen’s reckless behavior?? You’ll have to ask her about that… I mean, pregnant at 19?! What was she THINKING?! (Wait, that was me?? We need to hire a fact checker.)
Or not?
She waited.
