Personal history

Holy mother of god.

I spent some time cleaning out my email inbox and I feel like I've relived the last 3 years of my life in about one hour. I should also add that the last 3 years of my life have been chock-full of physical and emotional turmoil.

I found:

Emails from, like, every book club event I've ever attended.
Messages from various (ill-advised) dates I've gone on about where/when to meet up.
Emails I sent to myself when I was trying not to jump off the Golden Gate Bridge.
Emails from C.
Emails regarding my research on moving to Barcelona and finding work.
Notifications of and condolences for the deaths of various friends and family members.
Emails regarding job search resources from when I finished my postdoc.
Announcements of 6 Birds Cards.
Messages from friends who--for whatever reason--are no longer in my life.
Drafts of writings I did during turbulent times.
Etc.

2010 has to be better. It just has to be.

This is ridiculous.

I'm tired of scaring the hell out of myself by nodding off on I-280 before the sun comes up. I think I'm going to have to start traveling with a pillow and blanket in the car at all times.

In other news:

I'm positive my creativity has left. Gone. Shot. My boxes wait unfinished. My new greeting cards wait patiently for captions. Large portions of my bedroom walls remain bare. I have unwritten stories in me yet that haven't figured out how to come out. Even words I love hearing and reading are in short supply. The most interesting creative endeavors I have coming up are an origami paper unicorn centerpiece and a meat-shaped cake. Things have to get better.

I think it may be this whole full-time job nonsense. Note to self: Must put in more nights on the street corner so I can cut back on the 40 hour/week gig.

TCB

Can I just say how excited I am?

Here is a blown-up, blurry version of my business card with Jill's logo. Because she is a good friend (and cuh-razy) Jill only charged me the price of staying at my house and tour guide services when she comes to visit (which better be soon!). Jill owns Flyeye Design--check out her cool website here: www.flyeyedesign.com. Be sure to read about how she came up with her company's name when we were on a trip to Germany, Switzerland, and Austria in college in 1999.

My friend Lynn is also helping me out. She owns The Cat's Pajamas, a pajama company in Berkeley, CA. Lynn is kindly offering advice to this fledgling business girl on everything from making contacts with potential customers and contacts to getting a sellers' license to terminology.

Nannette also bought me the book Craft, Inc.: Turn Your Creative Hobby into a Business which is packed with helpful ideas and information. I devoured it immediately.

It's nice to have such amazing chicas around me!

Los Logos

My talented friend Jill at Flyeye Design is working on a logo for me for 6 Birds Cards. Here are the first two possibilities she sent. I really like the first one best, and sent her some thoughts and feedback on it along with an additional idea of my own (that is probably lamer than your grandpa's bowling shoes. What's that you say? Your grandpa's bowling shoes rock the house? Well, alright then...).

Anyway.

I'm excited!

And my book club is coming over tonight. And I'm working on buying Jenny's little mini couch because I miss my own desperately.

And and...

Bits of news

I've commissioned a logo for 6 Birds Cards. And I'll put it on a business card. Once the logo is done and the cards are made, I'm getting myself in gear to start taking them to merchants. I'm making stockpiles of cards. I package them in little sleeves and everything.

I'm very, very close to having a new part-time job here.

It's weird to end up with someone who is a better communicator than you (because I like to *think* that I am but my shortcomings have been quite apparent in the last couple of days).

This evening I'm remembering the intimacy and comfort of seeing your laundry mingle with someone else's in the dryer.

Lamictal is $138.00. I can't pay that.

Sacrifice

Despite the difficulties and the wild swings and the erraticism and the strains that what I'm going through place on my personal relationships, I am enjoying a period of creativity right now unlike any I've ever known.

I'm making my boxes and I fucking love them. I made one a couple days ago of which I'm incredibly proud. As part of this endeavor I discovered SCRAP and am terribly excited by it.

Six Birds Cards was born, and I have hopes of trying to market them more seriously in the very near future.

I've written more than I've ever written in my life. I went this week and got Writer's Market 2009 and Guide to Literary Agents in order to learn more about writing query letters to potential publishers and about writing a complete proposal for the book whose pieces I've worked on.

This is all just part of the picture, of course: the good part.

Next week I have my first psychiatry appointment and I am both relieved and nervous. I am relieved because the rapid cycles of my mood and anxiety are wearing me out. I'm exhausted. I'm nervous because I will be on medication. Forever.

My therapist assuages my fears by telling me that I'll be much more level and that, while I won't have the same bursts of energy and motivation and optimism, I also won't have the long periods of complete blackness and apathy either. This is really scary to me.

I'm afraid of losing moments of relative brilliance.

I'm afraid of losing the parts of me that--though immensely challenging at times (just ask C!)--make me ME.

I'm also afraid that I'm just one giant fucked up package of crazy and that people will be afraid to be part of my life.

Testing (Part II)

"You know what? When I grow up I actually do want to be a junkie."





"Can't we just forget this restraining order nonsense?"





"It's my party and I'll go commando if I want to."

I think I forgot to post this...

Here is the link to my shop:

Six Birds Cards

(www.sixbirdscards.etsy.com)

I've been spending a lot of time coming up with creative ways to advertise. Between both the website and word of mouth networking, I've sold a few items so far! The two that are the most popular:

1. The chicken card ("Do you honestly think that slut Henrietta can love you the way I can?")

2. The card with my hand and the words "My hands remember how your body felt." (This one makes me especially proud, because it is my very favorite.)

Testing

Have you ever had one of those days when you find yourself standing naked in front of Walmart with a goat named Harold and a plastic baby Jesus?

Yeah, me neither.

Wednesday morning shiz-nit

As I was leaving for work this morning, I caught a portion of the Bay Area traffic update on the local NBC news from Mike Inouye. He's the biggest dork in the world, and often cracks me up with the weird little things he says. Today while reporting on traffic conditions coming into San Francisco on the Bay Bridge, he said: "Toll lane number 14 is closed this morning. So, if number 14 was your favorite toll lane, I'm sorry to tell you that you're going to have to find a new one today."

Maybe it was because it was 6am. Maybe it was because I hadn't had any coffee yet. But I found the serious manner in which he delivered this particular line to be unreasonably funny.

In other news, I made my first greeting card sale! Business is booming! Okay, not really. I sold one card to some wonderful soul in Illinois, but it's a start. I'm going to write her a special note when I mail her card to her. Kind of like saving the first $1 you make when you open a business.

Announcing the birth of 6 Birds Cards...

I'm so excited to announce I've opened a greeting card shop, 6 Birds Cards, on Etsy.com (a website for homemade items). It has taken a long time to come together.

For a long time I felt there were things in me that needed to be expressed, and this is one outlet for that. I've collected weird greeting cards for years, as many of you already know. I also have a long history of writing along with taking pictures of fairly random things (food I made, computer error screens, table tops, etc.). I horde old family pictures, too. It was only recently that it occurred to me that making cards might provide some focus to my eccentricity and melodrama.

I can't take all the credit for this. Scott has collaborated on the caption-writing of many of these cards. Nannette has viewed and made comments on many prototypes. Shayna provided the needed kick in the butt by hosting a day at her house where several of us made things and, um, drank mimosas. Some of you have seen me open my little beaten up suitcase like a traveling salesperson to proudly display them. In the last couple of years, many of you have viewed and commented on early versions of these pictures on MySpace and Flickr. Thank you, and your contributions are gratefully acknowledged.

At present, there are 31 cards being sold. There are many more on the way. I also happily accept donations--want me to use one of your pictures and make it into a card? Sweet! Bring it.

Regardless of whether you want to buy any of them, please take a look. I'm proud of them.

"There is hope. Make the call."

Today I worked on something that I started over a year ago for the first time: making greeting cards. It was an extremely satisfying experience.

For years I've felt there was something creative in me trying to get out. And for the last couple of years I've taken pictures of random things and never really knew what I would end up doing with them.

Here are some prototypes:


Once I bluffed and fooled everyone, I stopped playing. It was enough that my eyes hadn’t revealed everything for once.

This one above I actually made last October, and I still like it. So after mailing out all those copies, I made another.




Momma wished for a bigger set of tits. See how that didn’t work?





This one above was a postcard secret I made last October, and it's one of my favorite things I've ever made because it was so anguished and heartfelt. I felt like it didn't need any writing inside because it said enough already.




We painted our bodies like savages and vowed to give our children names of towns we’d never been to. Then your mother called and told you to come home for dinner.




Do you honestly think that slut Henrietta will love you the way I can?




I heard, I heard. I heard it clear. I was afraid to follow. (Shel Silverstein)

This one above I have on my MySpace page entitled "run away with little boy blue." That title is appropriate for so many reasons. As is this caption.




Turned off the stove—check. Set the cat free—check. Told the landlord to go fuck himself—check. Gave you all my taped MacGuyver episodes—damn…



I bought stamps and put my brand name on the back of each: 6 Birds Cards

There are a couple that I want to re-work a bit. There are at least a dozen more that I've made and am still thinking about the captions. But I'm pretty happy with them. Also, I realize they're not for everyone, as has already been evident from the people I've shown them to. I don't care, though. I love them. I'd buy them.