Lightenin' it up!

I have a tendency to take myself too seriously, so today I'm lightenin' it up with this Flickr blog meme. I have been meme searching for a few days now, admittedly I find the concept inspiring and just plain fun! So here I go, special thanks to Fog & Thistle fellow Etsian and blogger.

The rules are as follows:

Type the answers to the following questions into Flickr search, using only the first page, pick one image. Copy and paste each of the URLs for the images into fds mosaic maker. That's it, enjoy!

what is your first name?
what is your favorite food?
where did you go to high school?
what is your favorite colour?
who is your celebrity crush?
favorite drink?
dream destination?
favorite dessert?
what do you want to be when you grow up?
what do you love most in life?
one word to describe you?
your Flickr name?

answers: 1.tameka 2.fried rice 3.homeschool 4.periwinkle 5.vincent d'onofrio 6.beer 7.deserted island 8.pound cake 9.writer 10.love 11. wise 12. tea.honeybread.peace

photography credits:1. Tameka and White Deer!, 2. I'm going on a bit of a health kick, 3. Time to start school, 4. Blue on Blue, 5. © Vincent D'Onofrio, Det. Goren from Criminal Intent shooting Network Ten promos (001), 6. beer belly, 7. Desert meets the Sea, 8. time for something sweet!!, 9. London Filmgrimage: Shaun Of The Dead, 10. Perspective Matters, 11. everyday's fortune, 12. Crazy American In France makes peanut butter chocolate papillons

Politics and Candy Sticks

I guess I was about 6-I'll safely estimate somewhere between 6 and 9, when I wanted to be President of the United States. Anytime after that I just wanted to be married. Yes, I wanted to be Mrs. Sodapop Curtis. Glad that never worked out, he's gotten kinda weird in his old age.

Anyway I bring this up in light of all of the politics lately, it's everywhere. People are talking, reading, writing, blogging, breathing politics and between us in here, I don't care much for plebeian politics. Sure it's important to be aware, abreast and in the know-and I completely understand this but generally speaking, I'm fairly apathetic about the whole election, the policies et al.

I've always been rather upfront about my stance as a philosophical anarchist and all around apolitical tofu totin' nouveau Hippie but since the Clinton/Obama campaign even moreso. With the precedence, press coverage and pining over the possibility of black and/or female leadership all of the trolls are coming up from under the bridge. What is taking place here is a battle of bigotry, bible babble and BC belief systems. The whole concept of leadership, and the welfare of the people and its governing bodies has fallen by the wayside.

Between the ages of 6 and 9 you're full of blissful ignorance, joie de vivre. Suffice it to say becoming the US President and actually making a successful run of it is a piece of cake. In Lego Land everyone cooperates and the biggest national threat you face is not picking up all of those perilous pedi-puncturing pieces. Popsicles replace pedophiles, gum in bed laws are the 2nd amendment. And there is no black or white, we're all just friends. Yes, I grew up and out in the years before Columbine and Jena 6.

I guess you see where this is going. Cake is high in saturated fat and some other delicious poly-something-or-other that'll make you pigeon-toed or blind according to the FDA. The country is at war and has been since my size 1 low rise Gap jeans fit. Pedophiles, capital punishment and gun laws are family breakfast nook banter and the nation is divided over whether or not to willfully receive or revile a presidential candidate based on sex and/or skin color? (Of course all the mitigating factors are filed behind B for Bill's wife or Black guy) People who would not be fit to serve on a pedophiles' jury are voting in this election, and they're coming out in droves. Shakes head.

This is the one area of my life I refuse to complicate by obsessively overthinking. I am a wise woman and seldom offer criticism without construct, but this time, "I got nothing". Passes Stick Candy, keeps the red one for myself. Change is the only constant, whether we like it or not. Dips candy stick in glass of iced water. Come on, don't tell me you've never done it. Hey, what color is your tongue?

The Daily Meme

I just found this site for blog memes; pretty exciting huh? It's a little busy for me, there's some Flash going on off in the corner there and a couple of different font styles, colors and sizes which all makes me a tad insane. But, when all else fails I can look to The Daily Meme for inspiration and that is always a good thing. Well, have at it, pass it on, you're welcome. Winks.

Why?

Blogging has enabled relationships and discoveries that I'd never have the opportunity to experience had Tea & Honey Bread not been born. I get e-mails and convos through my Etsy shops from people that feel like they have met a friend, a kindred spirit of sorts. It's always great to be recognized but beyond that, being accepted into circles of friendship is more than I'd ever expected.

I scrapbook (although, not nearly as much as I'd like) and I bought one of those little quote books; one of them reads, "Bloom where you are planted." That's pretty much what blogging is for me. I plant myself down, water with coffee, diet soda or beer (I know that isn't water, but water isn't nearly as inspiring.) and bloom. I'm a wildflower or a weed, depends on how you look at things. Either way this is an integral part of my daily life and I thoroughly enjoy all of you who stop in and comment, e-mail, convo and lurk along with me.

Special thanks to Kendra it was your convo that reminded me why I do this. And right on time as it kinda saved me from having absolutely zip, zilch, nada, nothing to write about today!

Random Thought: You, as a Location

Perhaps I'm just a wee bit fixated because I'm on vacation but I've been looking about and wondering a great deal about who I'd be if I were a where. AZ is still undiscovered territory for me because we've only been here 4.5 years and leaving home base just isn't one of my favorite things to do. But whenever I'm in Sedona I feel very much at home in my mind, in my skin, on this Earth.

Coconino National Forest 2008

Today's random thought if you were a place where would you be, and why? Perhaps you already refer to yourself as a where-that too, is perfectly fine- really it is. Winks.

At this particular moment in time I'd have to say I'm Sedona, AZ. I'm not particularly young, and/or inviting like the new areas they're building up. (And, I mean this in the best way as I'm ever grateful to be in what I call the Age of Good Sense.) I'm classic and rugged and natural; my flaws have charm and add character. I'm mysterious and alluring and I stand perfectly unafraid of the threat of killer tides and a hot crackling core. It is so overwhelmingly comforting to see Mother Nature in the raw, no manicure (landscaping), no makeup (tall man-made structures) and, even a few scars and disappointments (fallen and dying trees lovingly left in place). Who knew a hike through the forest would be so remarkably introspective? How wonderful is that? Your turn...

Pant Pant Blow...

Part One of the festivities has ended! It was an intimate gathering and Yael thoroughly enjoyed herself and her company. I've dumped all of my photos for review and editing upon our return.

Just a quick post as I prepare for my hysterical contractions to kick in at about 1:00 am along with my epidural. I didn't actually have one with either of my children, "Mother Africa" as my girlfriend Bonnie calls me prefers, "Pant, pant, blow... cuss, cuss, repeat". But tonight, I've got a slow drip of New Belgium Skinny Dip to take the edge off, I'm going at about oh...I'd say 355 cc per hour p.o. By the time the 13 hour ordeal is over, I'll be well into my vacation and not far from my next dose of pain medication. No worries though, I'll take pictures and notes and "talk" you to death about my travels/travails upon my return just like all of the other doting moms. Wink, belch, wave.

Random Thought: If it's misery, don't RSVP!

I like to compare myself to a cat when I'm ill or otherwise socially challenged. During these times, I become quiet and withdrawn. (As soon as I complete the 10 week Etsy Biggest Loser challenge I'm hoping to be able to fit behind the fridge with a coffee mug and a book.) Now, dogs on the other hand wimper aloud and make a fuss when they're ill, like humans. Why do dogs and annoying people do this?

On occasion I will phone a friend and say, "How are you?" Only to be deluged by complaints from their phalanges to Los Angeles-and you know even that is okay, because I asked for it. But, when someone calls and, in the early morning hours no less-to complain about the most trivial mundane matters, it makes you wonder...do you really like me? Why then are you determined to seize my already meager serving of happy for the day? Did I RSVP to your pity party? Nah, I couldn't have, not me! Shakes head.

So that's what's cooking over here this Thursday. For those of you waiting on return phone calls and e-mails, it's gonna be a while; I'm spent. The Glum Reaper claimed all of my give a shit for the week. How are you?

The Fun in Dysfunction

Our summer spectacular is about to begin and I physically feel like it's happened already! Perhaps, it's old age but, then again 115 degree temperatures don't exactly make for a most energetic Pitta. But, that doesn't stop Yael!

She'll be nine on Sunday; giggly girl hi-jinks and cupcake consumption will take place on Saturday evening, pictures to follow. Overall, this year has flown by with just a few days that were seemingly exponentially longer than others. Like the day she noticed I had two asses and just recently, a banner day as she, rather flabbergasted, noted her awe at my ass's ability to fit into a bikini. This just seconds before stating, "How cute..." she thought it was that, "Daddy (my follicle-challenged favorite guy) uses shampoo!"

So yeah, we'll be taking our annual road trip immediately following on Sunday morning. Complete, with our uber observant and exceedingly loquacious newly nine year old, and Puberty man accompanied by his rather large collection of some of the most cacophonous material coined music that the free world has ever heard. I'll be riding shot-gun with Itinerary Man aka Trip Fascist, aka the favorite guy. We actually bode fairly well until a map reading request is made or worse, as he assigns street sign reading duty and, requests ample turn notice while (This is the kicker...) driving at Nascar-esque speeds. Familial bliss. No, seriously it all actually ends well every year. How? I don't know, it just does.

If you don't see much of my magical musings, no worries I'm here in spirit and more comedy is imminent if you just believe.

Friends, Fathers, Flowers and Love

I'll undoubtedly be away from the PC for Father's Day observance, but I felt a moral obligation to put this piece of Honey Bread out there for consumption and hopefully digestion. For those of you who are new to my musings Honey Bread is a sweet morsel for your mind, body and/or spirit. This one feeds the three.

At 35 I have spent more years, cumulative time, being a wife than a daughter, having a husband than a father. I've spent more years raising my own children and siblings than being raised. I've shown and perhaps given much more nurturing, parental love, encouragement and support than I've received. I feel at once blessed and cursed to be able to pass this along. It is intended for women; mothers, wives and lovers all whose shoes, hats and baggage I've worn well and carried.

Men, fathers, husbands, lovers like children, flowers, bank accounts and pets, grow by investment and are capable of giving back only that which has been initially given. There's a great deal of discourse around this time of year about who is and is not deserving of Father's Day folly. There's a lot of trifle and tallying going on about just how deserving are those who are in earnest. There are 364 days outside of Father's Day to lend nurturing, love, encouragement and support to those we hold responsible for the success of our children, flowers, bank accounts and pets. When you chose your mate, you chose first your friend and then your partner and ultimately a co-pilot, a father. As a society, we tend to forget that loving is also choice.

Almost daily, I hear women go on about the choice to bring children into the world and not love them yet,we bring partners, husbands, lovers, friends into our lives and sometimes neglect them. Have you spent as much time being a friend to your partner as you have being a partner to your friend? Have you spent as much time supporting them as was needed? Have you invested as much as you've expected in return? Have you thanked them for the wonderful gift of life they've given you?

I'm an independent feminist type, fully capable of doing most a man can do, but not without the support of my main man. Go wish someone a Happy Father's, Friend's, Lover's, Partner's Day and make an investment in the beauty of both your futures. Peace.

Oh, and for the love of Bob do not come up with another PC term for the person you spend your life with or I'll never be able to include them all.

"Baby Mama Drama"? Hmm...

Seldom if ever, am I at a loss for words and, on the other hand seldom if ever do I have any political concerns or commentary. But, I gotta tell you the Michelle Obama Fox News "Baby Mama Drama" debacle has me in a state of sheer dis...dis...disappointment. I certainly wish I could have said disbelief but the reality of it is, I am not at all surprised. Shakes head...

Random Thought: The Entitlement Clause

Do you ever realize how insanely entitled we've become as a society? It borders on ridiculous sometimes, in fact scratch that. It is outright stupid.

I have two children, one husband, 3 pets and too many bills-none of which happened to me. They are my responsibilities, and mine alone. If Hannah Montana wants to pose buck naked (I just love the way that sounds.) on the hood of a car that Mel Gibson is driving drunk while racing Lindsay Lohan to the Amy Winehouse concert where she forgets the lyrics because she is distracted by Janet Jackson's exposed nipple, that is absolutely fine by me. In fact if I weren't home being a role model to my children I might have the Favorite guy rev up the Nissan and head out to see it all go down. These people are entertainers (term used loosely), they are not role models, substitute parents or leaders of the new revolution. Why can't people accept this? They are no more responsible for rearing your children than you are for naked moonwalking for my viewing pleasure.

I'm going to implode eventually from the incessant annoyance of hearing people complain about a very dead Walt Disney and how his billion dollar opt-in empire is corrupting toddlers, 'tweens, teens and terriers all across America. Get off the phone with Gertrude and watch your kids! The television is not a babysitter and quite frankly after several hours of Mid-East oil war propaganda I enjoy the superficiality of teens, 'tweens and the perils of their hormonally induced pubescent frustrations. If only real life were as simple as a pimple, padded bra and a mid-daydream boner.

Arthur teases, Caillou is rude, Zoe 101 missed Bio 101 and is knocked up (Has that been confirmed?) Bert and Ernie, well you know I hear they're getting married now; it's legal. There are also naked, yup real live naked people running around on the National Geographic channel and animals fornicating on the Discovery channel! Can you believe it?! I gotta keep my kids, cats and cavy far from all of this impropriety before they turn out-well..."Lean in so I can tell you in your ear..." Whispers, "Normal". Trust me, I heard it on Etsy. Convo me and I'll tell you how to join the "I'm Entitled to a Perfect World Road Coalition", no street teams here, that's way too urban for our tastes.

I'm entitled to think you're all pretty silly; irritating as antibiotic resistant staph boils-but amusing nonetheless. What do you think is pretty silly today?

A Brief Stint

That is all folks, a brief stint at the PC for me this evening...Whoa! Look at that, it's morning again. I spent the entire day cleaning. I took breaks only to consume empty calories, discuss the adverse effects of slatternly behavior with Puberty Man and scold The Great Negotiator aka Yael for pushing the proverbial envelope that is my sanity.

Favorite Guy came home early this evening which was well needed. He called about 5 minutes after Yael sent blood racing through my veins with Tsunami like force. I tell you, I thought the top of my head was gonna blow right off with this kid! It is uncanny how symbiotically fused we are; Joe always manages to swoop in and save the day with his soothing voice, (It was more like rote, hostage negotiator voice but, let's say soothing for literary affect) he's like a serotonin bolus. Well, you know except when he is in fact the cause of said plummeting serotonin.

So, I sit here in this hard ass chair (Note to self: Assemble new comfortable chair.) thinking I should be asleep but knowing that cannot happen unless I partake in at least some small creative process first. I have been known to wake up during the Feline Freak-fest (The wee hours when our cats commune with forces from the outer limits, engaging in alien communication by manner of yelping and sliding the noisiest shit they can find across the kitchen tiles.) and begin a project; a project that subsequently throws off my entire biological clock turning me into a cross between a wounded, rabid beast and someone in need of an exorcism by the time my charges awaken.

That being said, I'm going to have a double Alka-Seltzer on the rocks and attempt to cross over into the land where I am wealthy, my house is clean, I can fit my favorite Gap jeans and my children smile, nod and follow direction without question. And I'll tell you all about it when the cats wake me up.

Progress notes...

Perhaps it is the anonymity of the internet, or perhaps I've grown and made some amazing breakthroughs. Whatever it is, I'm finding more and more that I'm coming into my own and out of my shell. I'm still the same me who rants about living a life of my own design but, what I'm seeing is the design taking on new heights, depths and proportion. It can at times be too much to stand. I look around the house some days and while I'm exhausted, for all outward appearances I've done little to nothing.

Favorite guy came in tonight with his partial scowl face on. And well, yeah the house is not weekend ready but amidst his absence, I have drawn and posted my very first watercolor pencils experiment, designed two pairs of earrings, answered customer e-mails and masterminded what I believe will be another one of my best selling designs. Or at least one of my favorite designs. This is a great deal of progress from last year's, "Will anyone like my stuff, my blog, can we afford this change." The year (and about 7 years before that year) before it was, "If I muster up the energy to break free from this dark storm cloud of depression I promise not to use my powers to dragoon my boss, some of my subordinates and most of my co-workers". And, look at where I am now.

I feel like Puberty Man, (whose name is Jordan, by the way) he spends hours upon hours sleeping. Not just resting but, deep first trimester like slumber and each day when he emerges from his cave, he has grown. Be it facial hair, height, weight, muscles, pimples-there is noticeable change daily. I on the other hand, aside of 20 F-bomb worthy pounds am making all of my strides between the ears. All of this growth is at once exhilarating and exasperating and even a bit dimply!

Oh, I'm putting all of this out there because I sometimes wonder like many others if blogging and creating, collecting and chronicling all of my very random musings is all just spinning wheels. And then it hits me, there is a very strong possibility if I spin fast enough, hard enough and believe just enough I'll break loose the cogs and actually take off. You know? And hell, if I don't, I can scratch losing those 20 fucking pounds off my "To do:" list. Winks.

"And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt".~Sylvia Plath

Arte y Pico, Wham! and dessert...

I have been nominated for the illustrious Arte y Pico award by none other than Etsy treasury maven, savant of all things HTML, Babylyons! The crowd roars. Well maybe not illustrious, but we're gonna make this baby a rockin' big deal. Bursts into song, "If you're gonna do it do it right! Right. Do it with me!" Sigh. I miss Wham! Mentally hums a medley of my favorite Wham! songs. Okay, I digress-mea culpa.

Okay, so this Arte y Pico award works as follows:

First me and then you (the nominees)

1) You have to pick 5 blogs that you consider deserving of this award; creativity, design, interesting material, and also contributions made to the blogging community, no matter the language.
2) Each award has to have the name of the author and also a link to his or her blog to be visited by everyone.
3) Each award-winning blogger, has to show the award and put the name and link to the blog that has given them the award itself.
4) The award-winner and the presenter must show the link of "Arte y pico"blog , so everyone will know the origins of this award.
5) Show these rules.

Piece of cake...with ice cream...you know the kind with little pieces of Whoppers candy, oops-I'm dieting, sorry.

My picks are:
1. http://quejimenez.typepad.com/ :Ki is seriously the busiest creative spirit I've met in a long time; she has so much talent and promise. It's refreshing among the oft-weary mom blogs to read the triumphs of someone who does it all and with such grace and dedication. Here's to you my friend.

2. http://thoughtsfrommsq.blogspot.com/ : Ms. Q; this blog is a relatively new find for me. I was lured in by her list of ideas to keep the children occupied during the sweltering summer months but, it was her sage groceries money saving advice that kept me coming back. Thanks Ms. Q.

3. http://lepetitmonstre.typepad.com/the_monsters_lair : Ashley; I've been a fan of Ashley's art for some time now, admiring her precocious style on Etsy. I discovered her blog from a fora thread and have checked in for a read from time to time. Her recent heartfelt love letter to her three year old son sealed the deal for me and for this award nomination. The language of love and moreover maternal love is universal, if you haven't read it-please do.

4. http://mequetiscrafty.blogspot.com/ : Mequet is Crafty and even a little bit crazy-just what I like in a friend. Mequet's blog is also etsy fora crossover. As a lover of academia intertwined with a hint of assholiness I find great pleasure in cozying up with a good wheat beer and playing voyeur to the antics of her comical tribe. Keep an eye our for Sebastian, he's the protagonist of many blog comedies.

5. http://carnivaletsy.blogspot.com/ : Tammy's Carnival blog is based around her business and that of other talented artisans to that end. What I enjoy most are her featured artist interviews and great random finds. And, perhaps I'm biased but what I recall most from my own feature was that she asked about my childhood carnival memories. Genius marketing, subliminal technique-I don't know but I can't keep her blog, goodies or that question out of my head. Enjoy.

Random Thoughts Thursday: Restlessness

Last week I visited with my girlfriend Amy and her testosterone filled team. As we sit drinking beer the subject of mid-life crises came up; moreover the subject as it relates to her husband, Chris and I. We are both approaching 35 and, each in our own insane way-feeling very restless. The irony is Chris and I could not be more different but this is one area where I totally get where he's coming from. I've been thinking about my restlessness since I left that evening and wondering if there is in fact some big existentialist theory as to why people freak out between 35 and 50. Here's what I've come up with. It's totally logical, but don't go writing your thesis on it because,well... after all it's Random Thoughts Thursday and this is me we're talking about. Next week, I could very well conclude that I'm no longer restless and that it was due to Mercury's position. Or, further that I was never restless and it was merely a delusional result of pesticides in my produce.

Okay, so are you ready? When you're young there is so much to do and it's all new, so you're restless all the time. You wanna play blocks, dig in your ass, pull on your parts, make new sounds and more. This goes on for a few years and then you calm down for a bit before you discover other people and you're restless again; you wanna play with their parts and dig in their asses and talk to them on the phone until your parents rip it from the wall. Then, you marry that person and you calm down for an extended period of time, before you know it you're old and you realize you're going to die soon (2012 is what they tell me) and what do you know...you get restless all over again! Only, you can't dig, pull or 'discover' anymore lest ye suffer the mightiest smite...so what do you do? Well, I'm writing and crafting, creating, photographing and, totally tapping into my inner freaky flower child. (Twirls around barefoot amongst the dandelions.) Men, (Sighs.) they embarrass themselves on the basketball court with their sons' and once they've worn down the cartilage in their joints and inflamed all their bursae, they go out and buy a motorcycyle.

What are your thoughts on middle aged restlessness or any other random ramblings of a restless mind?

A Conversation with Grandma

My grandma is too cute. She is probably to blame for my tempestuous ways, as she validates everything I do but, that's okay! Really, of all the things I have discussed in therapy-that is not one of them. Anyway, today we were discussing my sewing venture. You could so hear the guilt as it wallow in the back of her throat. See, I was part of her social experiment in intellect and feminism. And, while she'll never accept the blame, again it is all hers. I left home not knowing how to cook, clean, sew, make a bed-you name it. If you'd have tested me on the table of elements, anatomy, or other academia, I'd be all over it. Ask me to bake a...well something you eat-not so much.

So today, I call her and after about 60 minutes of our usual gossip and all around family slander, we segue into my sewing and she says-as her voice drops several octaves, "How are you making out with the...now a near whisper, sewing machine". I diplomatically respond, "Well, I'm not rushing into things, I'm just focusing on becoming comfortable with the machine itself before I start spending money on fabric and stuff." To which she replies, "Well that's right honey, you know what to do. Take your time and budget your money." This is grandma for, "My poor baby is inept." Her voice only drops when I talk about homosexuality, anarchy, vegetarianism, driving and well now-sewing. Yes, sewing to a Southern grandma or, my inability to do so is up there with the other cardinal sins. Let's just be grateful that she doesn't know that I've been sequestored to the 7th level of hell due to my violent tendencies. I'm sort of convinced that I'll be in the the 12th Reich by the time I actually complete a project on this machine, but y'know grandma is old and we don't want to worry her much. Clambers back over to the machine.

Blah blah blah...

I knew I said I was going to take a break, I lied. You can hold it against me some day, like the guy that duped Oprah. What was his name? You know the author who later had to rewrite the preface of his novel. Laughs. I'm so glad I didn't read it, I would've been so pissed. Although, now I'm kinda curious what all the brouhaha was about. You gotta love Oprah and how she got all bent up about it, I guess we're lucky Jerry Springer isn't sensitive about guest credibility, huh?

Mercury is in retrograde, and I can not wait until June 19th for it to fix itself before I bludgeon someone. (If you're wondering how I got here, um-I just said, Mercury is in retrograde) Gemini schmenini, we are all Cancers in my house-with the exception of Puberty Man who has descended from his very own galaxy, and we're feeling it. The favorite guy has been pushing buttons like a New Yorker awaiting an elevator. And, I'm trying...really I am, but this baby is about to come down like an anvil.

Communication is such an integral part of our lives, but especially mine. Much of what makes me as hilarious as I am (Pats back) is my ability to communicate across so many ages, cultures and whatever else separates silly humans. With that, I notice the most subtle nuances and connotations in the communication of others. It makes me come across as a paranoid schizophrenic at times-I've asked and no-that's not it, I just place a great deal of importance on verbal and written communication.

You might imagine being married to a visual creature who would sooner grunt and point than form a complete sentence to be a bit er, well...trying. Let's just say it is insurmountably interesting. Joe is a musician yet, he describes even sound through flailing hand movements and intricately placed digits. That baffles me as much as I baffle him with the number of words I can string together in an effort to convey a sentiment as simple as, "You piss me off." Mercury in retrograde only exacerbates the insanity we've struggled nearly 20 years to overcome. Pauses... "Am I making any sense?"

In short, Mercury, can you please get your shit right? Okay, because I'm running out of beer and patience. Thanks, like really it is much appreciated. Winks. I know I'll look back at this post like, "What the hell?" It's cool we're all allowed a talking shit day. I think tomorrow I'll just cook something...this is pretty bad. Laughs.

A break...

Me, at a loss for words? Absolutely not. I have some new creative endeavors underway and will be channeling all of the awesome that is me into doing instead of thinking for a day or two.

Please stop by my art blog, The Buzz; The Bee's Knees is LIVE! (9:00 am EDT) This week's featured artist is Etsy Community member, Tiesha Houston; the phenom behind Sewfly and Flytie designs. Grab a sip and a seat and read on as she tells how she went from the university to Nappturality to Etsy.