Reader Poll - No, really, I want some comments about this.

I'm going to the Whimmydiddle Arts & Crafts Fair in Scott City KS this weekend to help out my mom with her booth. I got this wild hair today to bring along a couple items of my own to sell. I'm torn about what to do with one. That's where you come in.

 I had this little piggy bank. He was hot pink and argyle, two things I love.

Austin said it was a girl, but obviously he's not. Look how masculine his face is.

Please don't hate my Sallie, but I just had this hankering to coat him with chalkboard paint and draw a butcher diagram on him and see what that would be worth to someone.

Isnt's he cute?

Poorly lit, but adorable, right?

And yes, that's a copy of the Joy of Cooking in the background. It has butcher diagrams at the beginning of each meat section.

Austin thinks it's a little morbid, but I disagree. My little pig is quite happy with his new look. I think he likes the idea of becoming bacon. Delicious, transcendent, bacon.

Anyway, I'm planning to display this little guy in my mom's booth and I have to decide if I want to label him as a literal diagram (i.e. loin, belly, ham, shoulder, etc), or with a collection of things one could save for (i.e. retirement, vacation, emergency, shoes, etc.).

You know... because piggy banks are for saving money...get it?

Or maybe something else. I'm open to ideas here.

I made the lines permanent, but the writing in chalk won't be (unless they want it to be. I'm planning to bring along clear matte paint in case someone wants it to be permanent). I figure if someone were to buy this little guy they could write whatever they want. The question is more about display value. So what do you think? All reasonable and some ridiculous comments will be read and considered.

Thanks!

It's the little things...

The little things in life are the most important. Saying thank you, doing nice things for others, and remembering people, even if it's just their face and not their name.

Why this realization? Some very special people made it apparent to me.

My undergraduate student worker, Hilary, asked  me to write her a reference letter. In the email she sent me with the information I needed to write that letter she said "Thank you!" 88 times. Was I more motivated to write that reference than if she only said it once? Hell yes I was. 

My husband, Austin, does nice stuff for me all the time, but sometime I remember to appreciate it more than others. He makes my coffee and it is awesome. Is it possible that it really tastes better when he makes it? Like how carrots actually taste better if you cut them diagonally? Maybe it's the extra love he puts in it. He also found my journal this morning. How did I get to be so spoiled? I'm not sure, but I'm not going to question it.

And then I was walking across campus this morning and ran into a guy I had a class with in 2004. We're talking a large lecture seven years ago. And he remembered me. He didn't know my name, but he knew which class we had together and when. How is that even possible? I have no idea, but it made me feel really special.Thanks Mark.

I can't find my freaking journal.

I have this journal. My husband bought it for me. I'ts kind of khaki green plaid. Sounds very me, huh? I write in it.

I know. You're shocked.

I don't write in it every day, which is probably why I don't know where it is at the moment. Sometimes try to write in it everyday. Not like every single day, but it bursts when I get in a groove about it.You know, when I get excited about personal growth and finding myself and whatnot.

Is that normal? Do you suddenly get the urge to meditate and read inspirational books and write about your feelings to yourself when you feel off?

Anyway, the point is I want to write in this journal. I have stuff I want to write about to myself.

Trust me. It's not that interesting. You're not missing out. You don't want to read about most of it and what would be interesting is super top secret or just complaining about my job which really isn't all that professional. Neither is telling your boss you find some parts of your job soul crushing.

Did that this morning.

I probably wouldn't recommend it. Or maybe I would. Fight the power and conformity and doing what you're supposed to and all that. It is a little soul crushing if you have a hard time with any kind of dishonesty even if it is in your own best interest. *Pandora just played End of the Day by Lucy Kaplansky - it's about trading your life for your career. I think The Universe may be speaking to me*

I will find something interesting to write about eventually. I've actually been trying to think of some experience to witicize about on an almost daily basis since my last post. I'm too lazy to check on when that was, but if it was the one about the clown vomit PSA in the university bathrooms that came out at the beginning of August you have a temporal reference point.

Has my life gotten less ridiculous? I'm sure that's not possible. Maybe I'm just not noticing it. Or the stuff that is ridiculous is so absurd I can only share it with my sister.


She has stories from the last couple weeks. I call her with bursts of somewhat irrational and sensationalized responses to my circumstances. Let's hope she thinks of them as having the entertainment value of a mini soap opera she watches, but which lacks a regular schedule or consistent plot. Or maybe it just seems like short bursts of raving from a crazy lady who happens to be her little sister. Either way, she puts up with me and you should maybe thank her for that.

Anyway, I don't know where that journal could have run off to, but if you see it let me know, okay?