Dear Scary Santa,
How is Mrs. Scary Santa? How are the reindeer? That’s nice.
Could you please bring us our own architectural firm? Just like Mr. Brady from the Brady Bunch?
He’s always making models in the den and walking around with rolled-up blueprints. It looks like so much fun. PLUS, we would totally take care of it. We figured out the best name for it:
Get it?
It’s our names! Spelled backwards!!
Anyway, we’ll let you get back to working with the elves.
From,
Ken & Nat
Doesn’t that sound futuristic?
2010.
Anyway, you can come see them in person at the No-Coast Craft-o-Rama. It’s not until December but I know how my readers like to plan ahead.
What a night! First, I was paper-bagged by my girlfriends and THEN I was handed a glass of wine and a sack full of pencils.
We were greeted by a wall of women at the The Grave’s Hotel – I was frightened at first – it was like a giant bridal shower… I always feel awkward at bridal showers. This is going to surprise some people but I’m just not really a girly-girl. I can’t walk in heels and I have no idea what to do with make-up or hair. My casual wardrobe may as well be borrowed from the Cloggy’s Friday Night Karaoke Ladies. 
But who’s that in the bathroom with you, Fran? Well, silly, that’s my bathroom friend!
Okay, onto the vendors at the event. What event? Hush. Illume Candles was there – spreading their joy through the scented candle. We’re printing their holiday card again this year. They’ll pay us in candle currency which they assured us is just as good as real money. Let’s see… then there was some stationery vendor… forgot the name… it wasn’t us… so I didn’t care… And lastly, Foat Design. They do urban couture and yoga wear. I chatted with one of the owners – A nice gal who claims to have a twin in San Francisco. I’m not buying it, I bet she made up the whole “twin thing” to get away with crime.
Nothing says Christmas like sitting on a boozed up strangers lap. Especially if that stranger promises you all sorts of “goodies.”
The 1970’s were a rich time for the Shea family. 5 of 8 kids had already come through the hatch, (what did she say?) Mr. had a job, Mrs. kept house. Santa Clause sat at Dayton’s just waiting to kick off Christmas-Time. I do remember wondering how he could waste precious toy-making time just SITTING THERE on that throne. That wondering turned into anxiety which turned into paralyzing fear.
That might be why I’m not in this picture.
Nat, Em, and Zak are in it.
Andy and I are noticeably absent. There might have been a pants-wetting episode, or a throwing-up episode. Or a poopy-pants episode. Andy was always trying to get attention.
With the help of photoshop, I’ll be revising history. Soon, Nat and his BUSINESS partner, Ken, will be sitting on Santa’s lap… together. Ken needs to scrape up some childhood memory and get it over to me. I will remove Em and Zak (Zak clearly wants to be removed) and replace them with a little Ken. THEN, I will create a 4-color process halftone – OF COURSE it will be 50 lines per inch.
Duh.
It will be the new holiday card for Tanek. The finest architectural firm in the land.
I’ve heard it’s tricky to print a 4-color halftone using the letterpress printing method. But you know what I say to that??
DO YOU?!
I say, “you’re not so tricky!”
So, here’s what that image looks like when it’s all pulled apart and put back together as a 4 color separation. Isn’t it delicious?
I wonder if schools are more selective about their teachers these days.
I had a high-school teacher that greeted us with such giddy enthusiasm when we entered the classroom – I might say he “pranced” around the room, his little toesies all dressed up for the day in black, dress socks. I could see the socks because those feet weren’t stuffed into a smelly old shoe – no! They were free as you and me in a classic Birkenstock sandal.
Seven Paula Figurines lined the front of his desk.
Six of them kept their backs to us, the seventh would be turned to let us know what day of the week it was,”Happy Monday!” and so on. So much better than a calender.
We were told that we should address him as “Doctor” – that title was later disputed. And revoked. Turns out it was all just a fantasy… oh, such a fantasy… I imagine myself getting a doctorate degree in religion…
He described one of his teaching methods as “accelerated learning.” All students were required to put their heads on their desk – or grab one of his strange-smelling pillows from his “cubby-hole.” Classical music blaring, he read aloud – synchronizing the inflection of his voice to the swells and ebbs of the music.
I wish I could remember what he read. Maybe it was the multiplication-tables. Or Jim Jones’ manifesto.
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 
