Monthly Archives: April 2011

I Found A Boy

What a weird week. I can’t even.

Unrelated to the weirdness (or at least a separate strain), you would not believe the crazy-ass puppet show going on in my loft right now.

He’s shooting the final shots all this weekend and working his ass off to finish this by Sunday. I’m going to surprise him with Elvis Costello tickets cuz I love him SHHH DON’T TELL.

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XYBF Kurt

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Egg Raid On Mojo

This is the last picture taken of me with my Dad. It’s from last Easter. I had a gut feeling it would be the last one, which is why I made Justin take about five of them.

We’re going to his best friend’s sister’s house for Easter, and I’m not quite sure how I will handle that. Though, I’m sure my Grandma will say something completely awkward and embarrassing. Hey, if it gets rid of the sads, I’m cool with it.

The last time we ate with them, my visually-impaired dad almost knocked a full cup of coffee onto brand-new white carpet. John, his life-long bff, caught it just in time.

“I’m a good test to see how Christian you people really are,” my dad remarked matter-of-factly.

Justin, Patrick and I are taking his ashes to Arizona (possibly Tombstone!) in two weeks. That, plus seeing his best friend today, plus being emotional in general thanks to the peems, means it’s been an intense week. At least there’s candy.

Let’s end this on the best note ever: NIECE!


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Toof Hurty

Justin is soooo close to finishing his film! Here’s a teaser:

I love this guy so much!

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Getting Graphic

Now that I’m officially done writing about sewing machines, I can tell you my favorite story from working there. (This should also give you insight into one reason why I quit.)

About five years ago, not long after my ex-boss was promoted to that position, we were asked to create a piece promoting a new quilting machine.

The features (which were cutting edge and confidential at the time, but it’s okay to share this now) included a needle that could be positioned to let you pivot the fabric, a feeding system that controlled layers of fabric as it went through the machine, and a large, 10″+ work area to the right of the needle (which is a big deal for quilters).

After a couple days of mulling over ideas, my boss ran into my office with a mock up.

I stared at it in horror.

“[Boss]…” I said, trying to word this delicately.

“Don’t you think it’s intriguing?” she asked excitedly.

“What is this?” I asked.

“It’s a teaser question,” she said, adding, “A teaser is when you ask a question on the front that makes you want to open it.”

“Yeah, I know what a teaser is,” I said, annoyed. “But don’t you think this is a little, uh, dirty?”

“What? Why?”

“[BOSS].” I said. “NO. We need a new headline.”

“I don’t see what’s wrong with it,” she huffed as she walked away.

The headline?

WHAT’S 10-1/2 INCHES LONG, HAS DUAL-MOTION FEED AND ROTATES?

A few hours later she brought it to HER boss, who stuttered, “I … I can’t let you do this.”

Then she brought it to our team meeting to ask the rest of the team what they thought. One girl gasped, and her friend leaned over and whispered (in one of those valley-girl whispers that is actually louder than talking), “IT SOUNDS LIKE A VIBRATOR.” The old print shop guys slouched in their seats uncomfortably.

Two days later she came into my office with a cool piece that folded out to a life-sized picture of the machine.

“How about this,” she said proudly, as if she was the first person to dream up this line: “‘Sometimes Size Does Matter.'”

“Get out,” I said, pointing to the door. “Just get out of here.”

This kind of discussion has happened more than once in the last five years. Also, this is the banner she made for our print shop:

Graphic Dreams! C’MON! Why am I the only person who thinks this is hilarious?

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I Used To Room In A Tomb Where I’d Sit And Freeze

My first day at work was better than I ever could have imagined. (I was so excited about the dogs, I forgot about all the Swiss chocolate.) But honestly? The only person I wanted to call afterward and share today with was my dad.

It isn’t just because this is where he worked for 25 years. (Though, the last time I applied here, he made me a list of everyone he could remember who could help me get the job. “Now … some of these people might be dead,” he said apologetically as he handed it to me.)

It’s because he was always so proud of me and my career, and even though he hasn’t been around to see me work for the last year, I wasn’t making him proud. I certainly wasn’t proud of myself. I was depressed and unmotivated and (as I told key people more than once) completely demoralized, and I spent more time sitting around and hating life than actually writing.

In fact, things were the worst at work around the time that they were the worst for him, and I didn’t want to complain to my manager or HR upper management (HR was awesome) because I was sure they would blame my outlook on what was happening at home. (If they were going to avoid the real problem as usual, then I sure as hell wasn’t going to let them pin it on my dad.)

During his memorial, all his friends and pastors talked about how proud my dad was of my brother and I for our lives and our careers. I remember sitting there while they all talked about how he bragged about my writing, when the truth was I was so depressed at work that I would stare at my computer on the verge of tears, and sometimes days would go by where I couldn’t write anything noteworthy at all. I felt like shit (well, more than you already do when you’re sitting at your father’s funeral).

Work got a little better after that (and I mean it, I loved 99% of those people like family and I was homesick for all of them today), but the problems were still there.

I’ve worked at this new place for eight hours and I already feel like I can contribute and grow. Dog parks and koi ponds and cookies aside, I’m thrilled to be at this new place because I can be productive and appreciated. I’m proud that I made it here. And now I get to earn all of that pride he had in me.

(Bittersweet stuff aside … it’s pretty dope, you guys. I have no idea what I’ve gotten myself into.)

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Sads Hour

On my last day at my former job, I made Jeff a Baby Mumbles:

I had my Goodbye Happy Hour afterward and it was really fun. But obviously, I sniffled all the way home. I love these people so much!

Oh, and I wore the “I Quit!” ribbon that Justin gave me for my Smoke-Free Anniversary:

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