I’ve been making St. Patrick’s Day art pendants. I’m Irish. I love green. I know it’s early, but is it ever too early for corned beef or beer dyed green? Or being silly? Or trying not to get pinched? Maybe’s that’s pushing it a little, but I remember getting pinched in school on St. Patrick’s Day because I forgot to wear green. I got pinched a lot. It still hurts when think about it.
So, I was thinking about you when I got out the green alcohol ink and all of my glass pieces. I figured, you don’t want to get pinched either! My plan is to just start wearing one of my green pendants now…and wear it every day until March is over. That way I won’t forget to wear green on the big day. Plus, who am I kidding, green reminds me of Spring and I am SO ready for Spring, aren’t you?
Not everyone is into wearing giant, foam, green, sparkly leprechaun glasses or dressing in emerald-green from head to toe. I mean, I totally am, I just never seem to do it on the right day. Much like I am wearing Christmas socks right now, in February. What? They were the only clean and folded socks in my drawer! Anyway, the point I am trying to make is St. Patrick’s Day can be celebrated in classy and subtle ways too. Shamrock necklaces are cool and they provide good luck year round* unlike other art jewelry and green sweatpants.
One thing I want to mention, to people who have purchased my pendants before, I am adding additional shipping to my current pendant inventory. Unfortunately, the post office has been losing my jewelry left and right so I am now sending them all priority mail in a flat rate shipping box so insurance is included. These are mini, one of a kind, works of art that I cannot reproduce. When one gets lost in the mail it makes everyone sad. I am hoping this will remedy the situation. Plus, this will put the responsibility of delivering your necklace back on the Post Office where it belongs. If they lose it they will have to refund your money so no more shrugging and telling me my merchandise is stuck in a bin somewhere and unlikely to be ever found again. Whatever happens to all of that lost mail anyway? Do you ever wonder about that? I keep picturing my jewelry piling up in a warehouse waiting to be worn and then one day being auctioned off to the highest bidder, much like they do with storage units when renters don’t pay their bills. I am waiting for the reality show.
Sign up for my newsletter and get some upcoming merchandise discounts. I am making prints and gratitude boxes for Mother’s Day. It’s going to be gorgeous stuff. I promise. Because I love mothers. They make the world go round. Discounts will be sent to email subscribers first because they are my second favorite people in the world. I mean, Jim and Tiny-Small are barely above them in awesomeness…barely. That’s how much I adore my newsletter subscribers. Plus, there is going to be an awesome art tutorial in the next newsletter. You don’t want to miss that do you? SUBSCRIBE HERE
*Results not typical for St. Patrick’s Day Art Pendants. Consult your personal leprechaun before wearing. You may be required to take a trip over the rainbow. This pendant works best when you are already extremely lucky, good-looking, funny, and smart which my magic 8 ball informs me you, indeed, are, which means the pendant will probably work best as a decorative, anti-pinching device. I cannot guarantee any more luck than you typically have, but since you are so amazing and make your own luck, you really just need to look good while doing it by wearing a St. Patrick’s Day Art Pendant.
I asked people to tell me their love stories for “How I Met My Valentine” and I received several wonderful responses. When I was a kid I always wanted to hear stories about how people met and fell in love. There was, so often, an element of chance encounters and “magic” timing involved. It’s a topic that continues to fascinate and thrill me. I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I do!
Happy Valentine’s Day!
How I met my husband…
I was studying C++ in graduate school and it was the Saturday before Mother’s Day and I really wanted to get home to be celebrate with my mom. I was stuck in the lab trying to get my program to compile and run, but was having no luck and was completely at a loss as to how to debug it. I said a prayer, “God, I need help. I don’t care how you send help, but please do it quickly. I don’t have a lot of time to finish this.” Two hours later one of my classmates walked into the lab and sat down at the computer next to me. He peeked at my screen and said, “Do you need help with that?” We’ve been together ever since.
My relationship started with my soon to be wifey in a rather non-traditional way. We didn’t meet through friends… or work… or anything…. In fact, had I not put it out to the universe like I had, I surely would NEVER have met her. I was yearning for a woman’s touch (and to be QUITE frank, I was pretty done with men for the time being). A friend and lover. So… my search began. I have used social media as a way to meet people for quite some time now. You laugh, but… soooo many people do it… but, they are in the closet about it. So, I put up an ad in the personal W4W on craigslist… and let the universe do its thing. I mean, you can’t expect to find ANYONE if you don’t actually DO something about it! So… up the ad went. I forgot what I said, but it was along the lines of “I want a gf, but I want friends first”. I was pretty direct about what I was looking for. And I even posted a picture (a REAL picture! And not of my girly parts!).
So… I start “interviewing” girls…talking to some… hanging out with some. Nothing too interesting, really. Until- I get the email from HER. And… well…something happened. We chatted back and forth for a while… then we met… I can remember the very first time I met her. Not EVERY detail, but… enough to remember how I saw something awesome in her. We met at a local grocery store and she drove us to Old Mystic Village…I was nervous…but the herbal medicine calmed (probably BOTH of us) down. I remember accidentally slamming her car door shut (it was WAAAAY lighter than mine)… and her commenting on a really cute snowman angel ornament (that I later went back to find, but it was gone! ). We laughed, we smiled….and it was awesome. That was in November 2008- and in January 2009…she asked me to be her girlfriend. Of course, I said yes! 5 years later, we are still as happy as ever!
I want to tell you a specific story. But I can’t. Because our love story is one for the ages…and certainly a gamer changer, plot twist in my solo story. So I’m keeping some things to myself for now.
I met Brian a little over 3 years ago. I didn’t think much of it…he was just another cute guy that I met at the bar. Who never called.
But with a little persistence and after a few silly e-mails, we went on our first date. And I never went home. Or he became my home. One of those.
Our first date was on a Tuesday, we were non-Facebook official by Friday, and on Sunday we went to the grocery store together to binge on fancy cheese. A few months later, he declared that home is where my cheese is. And my cheese was there.
Being with Brian has felt, since day one, more natural to me than walking…(I know. I fall down a lot. Maybe walking wasn’t the best example…or it was. One of those.) I can’t imagine a world without him.
I’ll try to break this down in the best and most efficient way. Lilly asked for only 200-250 words, so I better get cracking.
In July of 1990, I had recently broken up with a guy I’d been dating for several months. It was dead-end. Four days before I met my husband, a friend at work invited me to a party. I didn’t want to go. I was pissed about the break-up. The day of the party, I went on a bike ride with a bunch of high school friends. I flipped over my handlebars and messed up my chin, shoulder and knee. When I called my friend to tell her I wasn’t going to the party anymore, she threatened to drive herself home drunk if I didn’t go with her so I decided I would go and not drink and be horrid to people because I was going under duress. My would-be husband was three sheets into the wind, which was unusual for him, when I arrived. He apparently liked what he saw: bandaged and bruised me, because he kept bringing me red solo cups filled with keg beer which I neatly lined up beside me on the deck railing as I stared and seethed at my friend, who unbeknownst to me was exchanging my phone number for Dan’s phone number with Dan’s brother-in-law. Dan was a true gentleman, despite his invitation for me to use one of his t-shirts to swim in and his insistence I drink one of the eventual five solo cups filled with beer. There was a moment when we needed to go inside and he escorted me through the doorway, his right hand glancing my right forearm and his left gently cupping my left elbow so it wouldn’t get banged on the jamb because he was unsteady (and I was just sober and tired). I noticed that immediately, his gentle and unassuming leadership. I was in, but I didn’t know for what, because…
For three weeks, he didn’t call! But when he did… well, we were fast friends and we talked all the time and here we are. Still talking all the time with three boys, almost 20 years of marriage and 24 knowing each other. He is one of the calmest, kindest, most well-tempered and steady people I have ever known. He has now been in my life longer than out of it. Popular psychiatry suggests that we marry what we’re familiar with. I couldn’t disagree more. I feel at times that he’s a figment of my imagination, for he’s NOTHING like anyone in my family.
For me, “love” didn’t knock me out of the ballpark and on my butt. It walked up to me, shook my hand and waited for me to have a beer when I was ready.
Met mine online, after a few swaps of emails and calls, then rode up to her house on a motorcycle , after a few dates, I came down in my pickup truck, I was in a car crash, and I had no one to call but her since I was in her town for a visit, she left work to be at my side through the ER, and letting me crash on her couch to recover, I Never left, we lived together at first and when it wasn’t about her caring for me and I could give back and care for her, we got married in Vegas and honeymooned in Disney.
– Rob Lane
I met my husband Tom almost 22 years ago, sitting in a stuffy Driver’s Ed classroom in high school. He was quiet and kept to himself. He sat next to me, but we never talked to one another until the year was almost over. The guy sitting in front of me was bothering me one day and wouldn’t stop, so I started talking to Tom instead in the hope that the other guy would get the message.
I had been dating a few other guys off and on in the months leading up to that day. My father was not a fan of the one that I saw the most of, and took every opportunity to remind me of it. One day when he was at work, he walked into a dental office Tom was sitting in, then came home and told me all about the nice boy he’d seen that day, then went on and on about how he wished that I could just find a nice boy like that one instead.
You can imagine the surprise on his face when Tom rang the doorbell later that night. Years later as we were preparing for the wedding, my Dad told me that he could never say anything bad about Tom because he’d wished him on me.
It has been a wild ride, these years we have been together, but I can’t imagine spending my life with anyone else. Happy Valentine’s Day, honey. I love you.
When I was in college, I took an audio production class. This was probably not the wisest move on my part, as I’ve always been technologically challenged. After my first disastrous evening attempting to do my homework and not being able to find the ON button (I’m not proud of this detail, but it’s true) my professor recommended I talk to Jim, one of the student lab monitors. He said, “Jim’s nice, he’ll help you.” I asked Jim for help the next evening while working with a group. The minute he left the audio bay, I turned to my roommate and said, “Is it just me, or is that one attractive lab monitor?” I took to hanging around the production area a lot more than was necessary just to catch a glimpse of “Cute Lab Monitor Jim.” To call a spade a spade, I pretty much stalked him until he asked me out. Actually, I asked HIM out first, but he had to shoot a wedding video on the evening I proposed. Our first date was on his 21st birthday. It was awkward and wonderful, the way all first dates ought to be. Oh and that professor who inadvertently set us up? He came to our wedding 6 years later.
Mom was working out at the flea market and I went to help her one Saturday and Tom was set up next to her. Tom asked me to watch his stuff for him while he went to the restroom. He handed me about a thousand dollars and said he would be back in a minute. Mom told me to watch him that he was testing me. Well he came back to his spot about a hour later and we have been together ever since. Tom told me back then that he tried to get me to talk to him a year before that and I wouldn’t even talk to him.
– Michelle Thomas
Do you have a “How I Met My Valentine” story to share? Write it in the comments! I would love to read it!
Auditioning for The Grinch has been slow going over here. We are still trying to decide who gets to be the adorable little dog. Lucy fits the part the best because she is small, but she is kind of shy so we don’t know how she will do in front of a large audience.
Rumples is too big and he just seems bored with the whole thing. If I could read his thoughts I am sure he would be thinking, “Antlers again? Every year with these antlers…every year.”
Rosie is just too spastic for a leading role. She doesn’t take direction well and don’t get me started on her Prima Donna ways. She insists her dressing room have dog bones carved out of fresh paté and that her costumes be rolled in cow manure first. We just can’t keep up with her demands.
We have Tiny-Small cast as little Cindy Lou. That was a no brainer. She’s little, she’s blond, and if we just stop brushing her hair for a few days it will stand straight up on the top of her head. We won’t have to hire a beautician to make her look cute or weird or braided.
I want Jim to play the Grinch so I can be the director, but Jim says I should play the Grinch because the fact that I want to be the director just proves I am bossy and probably more Grinch-like in general. It’s hard to argue with that. I have been practicing my executive leadership skills around here and I can be pretty cranky when I miss a few nights of sleep. Just give me a sink full of dishes and 25 loads of laundry to fold and my heart will be two sizes too small in an instant. It won’t be much of a stretch to get into character. The only solution I can see for this casting dilemma is for me to both direct and play the Grinch. Maybe Jim can be Cindy Lou’s dad. He wouldn’t even have to act that much since he is Cindy Lou’s dad in real life. Not to mention, he has to work and won’t have a lot of time to memorize his lines so this might be the best solution. He can just ad lib all of the way through it: Stop spitting, sit down, stop kicking me, eat your vegetables….
Anyway, we just want to wish you a Merry Christmas from the dome and a Happy Holidays in general. We hope you have a lovely couple of days and survive all of the family togetherness (seriously, can anyone drive you to the brink as quickly as your family?). I have to get this post published because as I am typing Tiny-Small is making a plastic goat run up and down my arm, and I have to put the ham in the oven for tonight, and I still have four loads of laundry on my couch that needs to be folded and put away, and I still have baking to do, and I haven’t wrapped everything yet, and….you get the picture!