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⬅️ Previous capture (2021-11-30)

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Spouse got me with a couple zingers recently. The first was on May the 4th. We have a string of color changing led outdoor lights on the balcony and I set them to red and blue (sith and jedi) and went over to yammer at spouse about it, because who else am I going to tell. And his response was, "Can't you just pick a side?" Yow.

So we were doing our grocery run. Admittedly I was annoyed because we went to Home Depot and for some reason it always seems to always be an unnecessarily frustrating experience. They also seem more sour than usual lately (can't imagine why) and they have no interest in helping which makes me crazy because I am careful to only bother employees as a last resort. It seems like the nicer I try to be the less fucks they give. They shrug and wander off. It incentivizes going into bitch mode because that's the only way to get attention. I wanted to get a 2x4' sheet of thin plywood and get it cut into 1x2' pieces for my portable tabletop. I have had this done before, exact same material cut exactly the same way. No problem. I wouldn't even care if the measurements weren't perfect. If they wanted to charge me $1-2 a cut I would be fine with the extra cost. I get that the labor costs money. Charge me extra, done, worth it. It was a weekday around 1pm, I figured it would be a less busy time. Anyway, I found an employee and he fed me some bullshit about the plywood sheet being "too small" to be cut. Come on. I have ovaries but I'm not stupid. He was lying to my face, he just straight up didn't want to help me. So I was irritated because I can't use the plywood uncut, but I also didn't want to go raging Karen over a measly $7 purchase and be like, I know 100% you're lying, your choice is cut it or get your manager right fucking now. Said nothing, didn't buy the plywood I needed and we went on with our shopping. (Maybe if I go to the hardware store early in the morning they'll be less inclined to blow me off. I'm annoyed I have to game them to get help, but from a retail working perspective, literally nobody cares about keeping the $7 customer happy.)

Then when I'm still worked up, at Target I saw a display of scrunchies. Of all the stupid 90's trends to bring back, scrunchies? They sucked back then, and they still suck. A scrunchie is the sort of jr high home ec busywork adults dreamed up to desperately convince children they were making something useful while getting rid of fabric scraps. Why you would intentionally pay money for one is beyond me. Why anyone would look back on scrunchies and be like, yeah, those are sweet is incomprehensible. What's next, those dumb chunky ripple socks that we wore swirled one way or the other, sometimes even double layered, with jeans pegged at the mid calf to show off our stupid cankle socks? Is this what the world wants? They went away for a reason. Scrunchies are useless.

So I'm bitching about scrunchies, as one does when one is cranky and sees a whole display of worthless scrunchies, and spouse turned to me and said, very mildly, like he was remarking on the weather, "Are you done being hateful today?"

Holy cheezits. What an absolutely spectacular mega burn. Just put a stake through my bitter little heart, why don't you?

That's very spicy for spouse. This event shall be referred to as the Target Evisceration.

I get that I am a lot to deal with on a long term basis. If someone isn't in that same groove, I am an intolerable person to deal with. Which is why I tend to be a hermit and STFU, because in my experience most people don't actually want to get to know me because eventually I will gleefully tear into something they hold dear. I'm so lucky to have spouse, because I can be myself and spout off and most of the time he's right there with me. I can't say how much I appreciate having just one person I don't have to filter myself with, because he's mentally durable enough to keep his own opinions. Just because I express that something is poop doesn't mean I'm saying they are poop. For instance, if you think scrunchies are cute, by all means, own that scrunchie shit. Tell me I'm a fashion peasant (prob am) - wear your crazy scrunchies all day long. If you enjoy something who gives a fuck. I enjoy causing some mild friction sometimes, I like people who stick to their guns. Sometimes they bring up points I didn't consider and I change my position. I'm still someone's friend even if I think their taste in movies is absolute garbage. Spouse LOVES garbage movies. I have trash talked the shit out of the Transformers series and how dumb it is and spouse is all, don't care, it has fighting robots. I'd never want him to stop liking Transformers. I'm just saying the movies are dumb garbage and if he watches anything but the first movie or the Bumblebee spinoff I am going to have to leave the room. He is, truly, the best piece of luck I have had in my whole life. So if he's irritated, shoot, I better figure out what's up and see what I can do to fix it. He is too precious to damage.

Anyway, turns out he's feeling some stress. He says his filter has been slipping at work - normally he keeps his dark sense of humor and not-conservative political views under wraps, and now he has less incentive to toe the line and his coworkers are learning more what his real views are. His parents think the vaccine is the MaRk Of tHE BeAsT! and these are the end times. They're never going to get vaccinated. He had passed a very very challenging test some months ago that qualified him for awesome special training, but because of the timing with the new job, they thought he was going to be gone in April so he didn't get sent to the training he earned. Like I can't say what the training is, but your average pro-gun nut would cream his pants. Missing out on it stinks. Plus the holding pattern for the new job. Plus general pandemic stress, and my depression. Plus working somewhere plopped in the middle of the insurrection chaos. It's a tall stack of horrible pancakes. We're very lucky that we're not struggling like a lot of people are struggling, but it's still a significant mental weight to be carrying.

"I miss friends," he said, wistfully. Yeah, I hear that. I remember there was a time we had friends.

So we got taco bell, because taco bell is spouse's comfort food. Sometimes you just need taco bell, no judging.

I am so looking forward to learning where we are going, and then moving there. This was always a temporary place for us. We knew spouse's current job was just a foot in the door. When you know that, it changes how you live and interact. You don't want to invest too much. Nevermind we worked so much the first couple of years there was no spare time to make friend connections. Spouse and I didn't even have a day off together for the first year. It's been a tough run.

I know things will improve soon when spouse gets the official stamp for this new job. We can start looking forward again, instead of feeling like our feet are trapped in concrete.

Luckily I have some thin plywood on hand. I have two pieces of the big sheet I had cut last time, and a 2x2' board. It's not exactly what I envisioned because now I have to figure out how to strap the 2x2' board to the folding table for transportation, but it will do the job. Unfortunately I was using one of the pieces as a very useful lap table and I have to sacrifice it for the project. But I can make the tabletop anyway, unhelpful employees or no. I had also ordered some copper foil tape for finishing small coaster art pieces, turns out I have plenty to go around all the edges of the plywood pieces too and seal the edges neatly that way. I also found a used 24" decorative scrollwork molding for $10 (so cheap!! normally $40) I can hang off the front of the table to tart it up. All stained and sealed, it should be respectable enough. I like that vintage carnival booth vibe.

[I finished staining and sealing the boards and I put the copper foil tape on the edges. I think they look quite nice. I need to seal over the copper foil but I ran out of stuff. I mock set up the table with the table cover, boards on top, etc. I tested the shoe rack. Turns out it is comically oversized for the table and looks exactly like I drug it out of a back bedroom (which I did). Would prob look fine with a 3x6' table, but too big for the 2x4'. It does hold cups well, though. The idea is sound, I may just need to buy a more compact rack.]

[I had impulse bought two 10' heavy duty grey sidewalls to make the luminary sides. I only need 16' of wall for the little tent, but it was way cheaper to buy the more common 10' length and I figured my sewing machine could handle a long straight seam. That leaves me with a 4' leftover chunk of good coated outdoor fabric. So out of that chunk of material I have cut pieces for a carrying bag for the folding table & tabletop, the awning/overhang, I'll make a larger bean bag cushion for engraving items on, and I'll make some smaller bean bag weights to put in cups in case of wind. That should use up just about every scrap of that spare material. Not feeling so guilty about buying those walls even though I may not get around to the luminary cutting for a bit.]

No cicadas yet, that I've seen. Thought for sure they'd be here by now. Apparently because of the cool temperatures it might be another week or two before they come out.

I carved the woodblock stamp for the business coasters. I've decided I don't like carving wood. It's more fiddly than metal or slate and less precise, harder to get crisp small details. The diamond bits and double cut bits work well. The single cut bits do not, and my smallest bits are single cut. I made some sample prints and found I need to carve the small lettering deeper, always risky to go back in. The block prints have a much more handmade look than say, a rubber stamp. A lot more variance in how the thick ink lays down from print to print. On the positive side, I wanted the crafty handmade look, and they look very handmade (mission accomplished). On the negative side, getting consistent good prints might be tougher than expected and I don't want to waste coasters. Kinda think I should have just had a custom rubber stamp made for what I spent on inks and a brayer. Win some, lose some.

I'm trying to source some nice tankards. Unfortunately my first choice wants me to buy $500 worth. It's a good deal per piece, quality stuff, but $500 is too much. I'm going to be stuck in that "spend money to make money" churn for a while ... except I have already spent my money so right now it's just churn. :-( I need tankards to sell tankards, but I will have to sell some of the product I have on hand first. Gah. Honestly my chances of getting much profit from this business are low, but I would at like to have not lost money. It's fun to go to events and vend. It's fun to have a neat art outlet. It's nice to have a booth setup ready to go. But as a one person handcrafted operation I am not likely to bring home much after expenses. Right now, lots of expenses.

I made an effort to clean the apt, thinking it might help relax spouse. Clutter is stressful. Cats were mad because I vacuumed everywhere, even the bedroom where they think they're safe. Many small cat complaints. There was more out of place than normal after the farmer's swap, and I've dug a lot of stuff out to finish various projects. Straightened and cleaned that up. I want to make a short video clip briefly showing my engraving process so it's obvious I am making these by hand, which means I need to make my workspace look neat and organized instead of, you know, reality. We all prop up that "master craftsman" lie, I guess. Oh sure, I engrave only by streaming sunlight or candlelight with enya playing in the background, with my hair fixed and in full makeup and clothes that match, in my charming cottage studio nestled in a forest. Sure. My workspace is def not my rickety apt living room with puke stains on the old beige carpet and there aren't annoying cats crying and knocking things over and spouse playing Civ in his bathrobe 10 feet away. I definitely don't need breaks because my wrist gets tired and hurts. The rotary tool on steel sounds like a choir of angels and my neighbors are blessed to hear it. Ha ha ha.

Had a dream I went back to tattooing under my mentor. First day back and I get a walk in client. I'm talking to the client about his art and trying to maintain composure as I draw, but internally I'm panicking because I don't know what will make mentor more angry: taking the client when I haven't tattooed in a while and need practice, or turning down the client when he'll want me to be making money. I have no idea what I should do, I decide I'm going to stall the client by making his art more elaborate so he must make an appointment to get tattooed another day. I'm expecting mentor to walk in any minute and yell at me no matter what. I woke up super anxious and stressed out, and it reminded me how awful things were at the shop, and how miserable it made me to try to read mentor's mind all the time and still get chewed out. He would say one thing like it was set in stone, but later want the opposite. "You're not ready to do X." "Why aren't you showing more initiative?" Oh my god. Living nightmare.

Maybe I need this stupid cup engraving thing as recovery art therapy.

When I moved the shoe rack I rediscovered what an awesome shoe collection I have. I have cute shoes I only vaguely remember buying. They've been sitting on the rack in shoe bags since we moved. Not really interested in dribbling ink and madacide on my good shoes, or tromping to the bus in heels (why don't I just ring the dinnerbell for weirdos). Wow, I really really want to wear my cute shoes again. Ugh, I need to lose this weight. Calf boots, man. That zipper does not lie. :-( I've been semi-sticking to the intermittent fasting plan, but not well enough to move the scale. Shit, we just had taco bell the other day. As Yoda says, "That is why you fail." So I guess I'm going to go in and stare at my shoes if I feel like blowing off the fast for a day. If my really cute shoes can't motivate me, I'm not sure anything can.