That’s right! Scientists have analyzed data and determined that it’s extra cold.
Now I feel even less bad for never leaving my beanbag nest with fireplace view.
I gave up working-out and have adopted a restorative yoga practice. This particular pose is called Corpse.
Note the Winter coat. My character froze to death on the prairie.
ANYWAY. I can act like this now because I’m an eccentric writer with A LITERARY AGENT.
28 pages down, 12 to go…
I started getting acupuncture this week
because my qi [chee] is obviously messed up. And, everyone knows, it is impossible to write a book with messed-up qi [chee].
A BOOK?!
I’m writing A BOOK!! Remember??
It’s one of the four things I talk about, so it should be easy to remember.
But, what are the other three?
1) Bacon
2) Rat-kings
And 3) My new nephew
Here’s a card that explains everything:
Right??
Two important things happened this week:
1) It was so cold that I never left the house.
IT FELT LIKE -49°.
OKAY, cover your ears: THAT’S BULLSHIT.
All I could possibly do is sit in front of the fire with my companion, Tib The Cat.
Oh, yeah, and here’s number
2) I GOT A LITERARY AGENT.
You heard me.
The Steinberg Agency — they rep people like Tim Gunn and Cris Carter. NO BIG DEAL.
They want a 40-page picture book for adults…
*I* like pictures.
I can make that book.
Here’s a teaser/the cover OF MY BOOK.
I heard a story about a Minnesota fur trader.
Tromping through the snow in seasonably cold weather, sans Northface winter gear and, more importantly, SANS Smartwool socks — he found his feet to be frozen solid. Frozen like a forgotten chuck roast buried under the pile of pizzas and popsicles.
What did he do?
Simply dragged his body through the snow until warmish accommodations were reached, asked the hardy men in the room for an awl, punctured his feet, and had those same hardy men pour brandy over his numb tootsies.
There. Feet saved.
I didn’t write a card about that. (I’m sure I will.) Here’s something more lighthearted:
2013 was a doozy!
I daydreamed with such intensity!
Such intent!
Such fervor!
And I can’t speak for Jen (just kidding, I will. Right now.) but I’m pretty sure she has been on pins and needles JUST WAITING for cards from me in her inbox. (Between the printing, billing, and shipping.)
I also can’t speak for The First Intern, and now The Virtual Intern, but I will say that their lol’s have fueled my asbestos-covered furnace.
So, as I sit here, wearing layers of long underwear, under an Indian blanket (soaked in smallpox), staring out the window… I am beyond grateful for the ladies that make Zeichen Press more than just a daydream.
And now I’m all choked up!
But enough of that!
Christmas is SO two days ago and that leaves me wondering what to do with the rest of winter.
Should I:
A) Take up a winter sport, like: crying? Or swearing? Or punching the air?
B) Write/design cards about this wonder-filled season.
I choose both!
BUT a card to celebrate a birth. A birth card? Be bold, new mother! Send out a stack of these and you send out a statement: Don’t mess with me or my baby.
I nearly took that martyr shortcut last night. Jen drove her teeny-tiny Honda and our brand-new printer got to ride shotgun while I sat in the back with Loretta.
She was very busy screaming sweet nothings in my ear, while Jen was trying to drive with an 80 pound boxed laser
printer resting gently on her right hand, her rear-view mirror tilted helpfully at the ceiling. She wasn’t applying make-up so I guess she didn’t really need it. I told Loretta that she was lucky because the last thing she’d ever see was my face. She screamed louder and I handed her my iPhone. Sometimes Jen would ask me if it was “safe” to switch lanes. I always told her yes because in the grand scheme of things isn’t it always safe to switch lanes? We actually made it home. I kissed the ground. Loretta screamed and cried goodbye and they drove away.
I’ve set a goal for myself. 25 birthday cards by January 1. Patina wants more birthday cards and dammit they are going to get more birthday cards. Why am I sucking up to that cutesy pootsy boutique? Because I LOVE IT. Oh, how I love it… If Patina carried a coffin, I would kill myself just to be buried in it.
Here’s a new card. – Designed on the computer, soon to be a plate, soon to be inked, soon to be part of our illustrious line.
By the way, I AM counting the Trader Joe’s rejects in my 25. So, 25-8=17. I used a calculator. Seriously.
Time for more corporate holiday cards! My Big Brother owns Tanek, the coolest (of course) architectural firm in the Midwest. Every year they ask us to bring some of our freshest (dopest) designs to their table. We drop whatever we’re doing (eating) and hop to. This year I’ve created a couple of things:
The humor is subtle. Just like me.
I think this one should have been chosen last year:
But no. It was voted down. Apparently the Tanek Leaders didn’t want to be seen in their fictional underpants. Prudes.
Hot Damn! We finally picked a sales rep! A first-rate group of gals (there is a guy in the group that reps Iowa but he’s on a sort of hiatus – sorry Iowa) that will spread the Zeichen Love across this frigid, northern land. Minnesota, Wisconsin, North Dakota, and South Dakota. I’ve actually never been to North or South Dakota… In fact, I’m not even sure they exist. I’d like some sort of proof. Anyway, our fax machine has been ringing off the hizzle with orders – our biggest so far: Kowalski’s Markets. I love Kowalski’s and I’m not just saying that. My ice cream melts in the cart while I wander around like a free-range chicken. (Before the farmer kills it and Kowalski’s sells it and I eat it. Mmm, delicious.)
I guess that last round of cards I did for Trader Joe’s were tossed into the “maybe” pile for being “too snippy, irreverent, and sarcastic”. That would hurt my feelings if I wasn’t made entirely of gears, microchips, and ice. I figured I better try again. I thought, “what would a nice person want to say to another person that they actually cared for? How can I help facilitate some positive communication that may otherwise be forever unspoken due to awkward shyness or maybe even because of some sort of speech impediment. What if someone has simply taken a vow of silence? I will be their voice.” (Didn’t that totally give you chills? I know, I KNOW. That was totally unrehearsed.) Here are the nicer cards for Trader Joe’s: (Will they be nice enough? Stay tuned.)
Umm, the Target Center was a strange, strange place last night. So many jewel encrusted tank tops and hoodies… I felt out of place in my Witch Costume. My friend, Melissa Peterman rocked the house with her comic stylings. To thank her for setting up a meet-n-greet with Kelly and Reba, I made her a set of these:
I was disappointed that Kelly and Reba didn’t arrive on horseback. I did allow them to take a picture with me. An act, I feel, was very much appreciated by both of them. They were thrilled to meet me and asked me all sorts of questions about my lifestyle.
They say this cat Shaft is a bad mother SHUT YOUR MOUTH! I’m talkin’ ’bout Shaft. THEN WE CAN DIG IT!
Brrrrrrrr. Um, brrrrrrrrr. Something (snow) tells me summer is over. I had a VERY busy weekend, there was Kelly Clarkson, then a bunch of stuff, then Don Draper. Oh, yes – I managed to squeeze in a design/letterpress project.
Some Bad Catholic Mothers of OLG (hardcore acronym: Our Lady of Grace) asked me to design a book cover for their Tell-All Confessional. Thanks to Boxcar for their perfect plate and thanks to all you Bad Catholic Muthas out there for your indiscretion and moral ambiguity.
