I wrapped myself in bacon yesterday for a phone interview with Mpls. St. Paul magazine.
I was, I’m sure, delicious.
She wanted to talk about the new book but I wanted to talk about the last episode of Long Island Medium.
She said she was too “busy” to talk about what I wanted to talk about. What? Too busy to care??
Moving on:
Zeichen Press found a new intern and she already promised to fold my laundry. I’ll give her this new card as soon as she puts my clothes away:
I live on a farm so I can swim through my gold coin-filled silos like Uncle Scrooge McDuck. My latest money-making scheme is sure to fill its very own silo: A downloadable collection of our cards turned cartoons!
I’ve requested that royalties be paid in gold doubloons.
Clip-clop-clip-clop… I watched her gracefully stroll down 28th Street. She, a 125 pound White Tailed Deer, came towards me on the sidewalk. Her head turned left and right, taking in the scenery like a tourist. I sat as still as a frightened rabbit, hoping she would mistake me for something non-threatening. The air was perfectly calm and the smoke from my cigarette rose straight into the sky. Oh, but she noticed me! We were locked in a staring contest for what felt like forever, and then she bounced away. Faster than I knew a deer could run, she bounded across Hennepin Avenue.
And a bear wandered up to a strip mall last week in Cottage Grove. I felt it should be commemorated.
It’s time to free ourselves from the shackles of this social networking monster.
We are ignorant prisoners, dragging our metal cups across the bars while our warden stuffs his fat face with naturally-cased wieners.
We are school children, wandering like Wii avatars, waiting for the bell to ring only to be called in to diagram sentences.
We are the Israelites crushed by our taskmasters, waiting for the supernatural smiting of the Egyptians.
Rise up, people. Stop rowing the slave ship. The candy tasted so good before we got in the van, but now we must be deprogrammed. Make no mistake about it — this is some sort of Stockholm Syndrome. Oh, the candy… so sweet, so forbidden, so Turkish-Delighty.
Damn you, Facebook!
I’ve flushed my precious time down the toilet. Time I’ll never get back. Just like the year I got hooked on Party of Five – those orphaned Salingers led by their gorgeous brother/carpenter, Matthew Fox…
Oh, but it’s done now. No point in looking back. Friend requests, status updates, profile pictures — word combinations unwittingly added to the English lexicon!
I’ve got a word for you: insidious.
Never has there been such a tool, such a divisive tool. It wears a party hat and mixes the strongest drinks, watching the party-goers behave like jackasses. Why?
Ask son-of-a-dentist/billionaire, Mark Zuckerberg. Mr. Zuckerberg was unavailable for comment during the writing of this, and it’s no wonder. He’s in Palo Alto, counting his drug money. I’m booking a flight to Palo Alto and am either going to personally punch him in the face or flatter him until he hires me as his “personal secretary.” The second scenario is obviously more lucrative. The point is, I will no longer be in this creepy symbiotic relationship.
I will be free. (cue the MLK footage)
Print shops are full of danger.
Hands mangled, digits lost, clothes torn right off of bodies… (I better fact-check that last one).
Zeichen Press is no exception.
Behold:
Look if you must. Sometimes it is better to face the painful, it desensitizes the mind.
That’s good, right?
Because I am so committed to my craft, I (by “I”, I mean “my son”) squished the spider, and finished laying out this card:
Mother’s Day is coming up but you don’t have to get your mom a card.
Three new rep groups this Spring.
THREE.
These new (lucky) states are: Virginia, West Virginia, Idaho, Montana, Alaska, and New Mexico. Each rep gets a box of goodies, packed by Jen:
I bet that’s a lot of work.
I wish I could help but I’m too busy watching Pam watch kittens on televison while I lay in bed.
I DID write/design some new cards — I’ve heard that laughing is as good for your body as eating so I plan to airdrop some new cards to the starving people in the world.
I’m sure they’ll be grateful. 
Nothing could come between a girl and her Etch A Sketch in 1981.
NOTHING.
Just look at that tight-lipped concentration… LOOK AT IT.
Maybe I was creating a message for my mom? Or a beautiful design? Or a note to my brother begging him to stop slowly poisoning my parakeet and calling me Oot Head.
WHO KNOWS?
My Etch A Sketch has been replaced with 10,000 pounds of letterpress equipment, a laptop, and Jen. (Sorry, Jen.)
Here’s a new Valentine’s Day card… Lead type and an antique cut can barely compare to the magic of my childhood.
Sandwiched between Woodworking II
and tanning booths at Golden Tan in the Richfield Hub (Um, Off-Campus Study HalI),
was a class called Printmaking. 
*Actual linocut carved while under Sr. Bernardine’s tutelage.
Maybe I should thank Sr. Bernardine (‘s grave) for opening my mind to all things print-related?
Inspired by that lil’ puppy:
Oh, wouldn’t I look smart in my new floral, lightly quilted, Guinnea Sax dress and ivory blouse! The thin silk ribbon under my collar tied so prettily… Real leather open-toe sandals with cuffed socks actually MATCH MY BLOUSE… Eleven years old and I just knew I already had the world by the shanks. THE SHANKS.
First Picture Day at my new school was going to change everything! Sure, I spend nights in bed carefully drawing miniature Black Stallions in the margin of my diary. And sure, I rarely brushed my stick-straight blonde, center-parted, mom-cut hair. But I was pretty sure I looked like Sissy Spacek, circa 1973.
With backpack securely fastened over both shoulders, I proudly marched through the alley-entrance onto the school playground/parking lot.
WHAT’S THIS?! The girls/my classmates are wearing Guess Jeans and white t-shirts!
My heart sank.
And they burst out laughing at the very site of me!
HOW COULD THEY?! THE AGONY! Thank God my call home from the nurses office only resulted in my mom coaxing me to stay at school long enough to have my picture taken, otherwise there wouldn’t be this evidence. THANK GOD.
~Dedicated to the cool kids~
…And someday I’d enact my telekinetic revenge…
Discovering Instacart might change my life.
These modern services enable my dwindling desire to engage with the outside world.
IN JANUARY. IN MINNESOTA.
And why should I leave my house when Millie the Dog is learning to speak Human?
If only the shop were actually connected to my house.
Just look at that commute! Ridiculous.
Or… inspiring? It must be inspiring because I made this.
January has already been SO busy. I don’t know about Jen, but I’ve had to take a really active role as a listener/watcher.
First this: (Sherlock!)
And then this: (Serial Podcast: season 2!)
And now THIS?? (Making A Murderer, brought to you by the good folks at Netflix and Men’s Wearhouse!)
It’s a lot to keep track of… I’m taking notes if anyone needs them.
Don’t ask me how (DON’T ASK ME), but I was able to squeeze in one card:
I’m pretty sure it was our Jewish neighbor (and not Santa Claus) who put our presents under the tree when we were at Midnight Mass.
I got a globe.
But I barely remember that! I barely remember crying and sulking in my bedroom! Because this was the Lord’s day, not mine!
Merry Christmastime, everyone!
If only they would stop their playing and look over at me… Why is MY friend even playing with my stupid brother???… Maybe if I wave my arms and jump higher on this strangely super-tall bed in our basement… No, that didn’t work… Hold on… I’ll just climb down and drag over that chalkboard to lay flat on the floor because it looks more like water than the off-brown linoleum… Perfect… Now, I’ll roll over the large black, rubber inner-tube we float on at the lake… Just plop it right on top of the chalkboard… Looking good… Ok… NOW, I’ll climb back up on the bed and jump some more…
“LOOK AT MEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!”
I hysterically scream, while diving face-first into the center of the inner-tube.
So much blood. So many tears. And my friend was sent home??? WHY MOM, WHY?!
Feeling pretty fancy over here because The Washington Post picked up the Religion News Service article! (Is that how it works?? See? TOO fancy for me!)
But, obviously, not as fancy as Dinah.
and new designs for 
