Today is chilly, totally gloomy, and it's tiny branch time. I'm down to (well, technically up to) the smallest sized branches of my "attractive little groupings of trees". They're only 1/8" diameter and all have to be rounded off so no one impales themselves. I have to produce about eight to twelve times as many of these as I do trees, which means it takes forever. Two years ago my Dad came and helped me for a whole day with them because I was moving and it was a crazy time. At the end of the day he was like, "Now I see why you hate making these."
I don't hate the sculptures. They come out rather nice, but making them is just production work and boring and labor intensive. I'm going to be cold, get sore hands and shoulders, and it's going to take hours if not days. This has me going to "it's better than other crappy jobs I've had" territory.
Making tiny branches is better than:
1) Helping to autopsy a St. Bernard when I was eighteen and super hungover.
2) Cleaning infected cat bite wounds with hydrogen peroxide when I was eighteen and super hung over. (Without going into detail, a bunch of really smelly, gross crap foams out) (noticing any pattern here?-- ahh, the good old days)
3) Working eight hours all alone without a break at the candy store in the mall only to trudge across the hall and work the evening shift (in some kind of perverse rhyming pun-- very funny universe) at the candle store all alone without a break.
4) Working doubles (12 to 14 hour shifts) anywhere when you're tired and fed-up and someone calls in sick.
5) Having to stay until 1:30 in the morning at the import store by myself because the unexpected semi-load of freight wouldn't fit in the stockroom and there was stuff all over the parking lot I HAD to figure out how to get inside the building before I could leave.
6) Having to routinely lift and carry things much to big and heavy for me (like stacks of six chairs all tied together in a bundle, or boxes as big as I was), usually wearing, sadistically, high heels and a skirt.
7) Working an insane 35 hour shift due to a perfect storm of people calling in sick and the floor of the store getting professionally refinished overnight, then having to open the next day.
8) Any job I've had to work with, or even worse for idiotic jerk-wads for very little money.
Ok, I already feel tons better. Bring on those tiny branches! What are some of the worst jobs you've ever had?
End of day addendum-- hanging it up for the day-- yeah, it will be days not hours.... My third drum lesson went awesome though.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Gettin' Dangerous Again
Today the driveway was fraught with peril! (Sometimes we writers exaggerate for dramatic effect, so don't worry too much.) First I burnt a tiny hole in my thumb. This isn't that odd really, but still hurts. I tried to get a pic for you but between my over forty eyes and my non-shake-controlled camera, it didn't pan out. You can see the battle scars on my iPod though.
(Check out "Everybody Get Dangerous" by (who else this week?) WEEZER-- in the player.)
I've had many brushes with heat doing this. There was the pants fire of '98-- frayed hems, rookie mistake, and the hair fire a few years later. Never weld when you have a bunch of flammable hair products on board. Little molten balls of steel are always flying down your top or going in your glove. What sucks is when they can't be easily dislodged and expelled out a sleeve etc, and instead sit there melting into your flesh while you frantically hop around disrobing. You also learn to smell around. You don't want to smell burning leaves, or hair, or ickily-- hot dogs (you). Basically anything burning is bad.
My other stunt this morning was launching myself backwards into the driveway by bracing my foot against the bench while I used my mighty strength to bend a stubborn tree, and it gave way. I landed on my back between two piles of semi-completed trees now bristling with spiky metal branches. After this i needed to laugh even more than to jam out so I listened to "The Moth" podcast. Thank you Dan savage for actually making me LOL. (You must go to iTunes and get this-- i tried to link up here but couldn't figure it out. It's free and one of the funniest things Ive ever heard--- "Not that kind of gay".)
Ok, this is the face Dan made at me when I took his picture the other night. He was wearing just sweats, no shirt, and two of the boy cats had literally piled onto his lap. I told him he looked like some kind of centerfold for a weird cat / man soft porn calendar. That was when this face appeared and he threatened to "Delete my whole blog from the entire internet" if I posted the pic. (Notice how little rays appear to shoot from his eyes when he's mad?)
I wasn't too worried, since he really doesn't even know how to find my blog on his own much less somehow hack into blogger. Fortunately for him he has no evil genius aspirations to take over the inter-web. The cats are going from aloof disdain mode into cuddle mode now that it's getting a bit colder. Mike has an on again off again thing with Tootie (the darker one) that's probably going to be "on" again now.
That's it from here-- oh-- I found out Weezer is actually Fri, so the countdown is moved up a day!
(Check out "Everybody Get Dangerous" by (who else this week?) WEEZER-- in the player.)
I've had many brushes with heat doing this. There was the pants fire of '98-- frayed hems, rookie mistake, and the hair fire a few years later. Never weld when you have a bunch of flammable hair products on board. Little molten balls of steel are always flying down your top or going in your glove. What sucks is when they can't be easily dislodged and expelled out a sleeve etc, and instead sit there melting into your flesh while you frantically hop around disrobing. You also learn to smell around. You don't want to smell burning leaves, or hair, or ickily-- hot dogs (you). Basically anything burning is bad.My other stunt this morning was launching myself backwards into the driveway by bracing my foot against the bench while I used my mighty strength to bend a stubborn tree, and it gave way. I landed on my back between two piles of semi-completed trees now bristling with spiky metal branches. After this i needed to laugh even more than to jam out so I listened to "The Moth" podcast. Thank you Dan savage for actually making me LOL. (You must go to iTunes and get this-- i tried to link up here but couldn't figure it out. It's free and one of the funniest things Ive ever heard--- "Not that kind of gay".)
Ok, this is the face Dan made at me when I took his picture the other night. He was wearing just sweats, no shirt, and two of the boy cats had literally piled onto his lap. I told him he looked like some kind of centerfold for a weird cat / man soft porn calendar. That was when this face appeared and he threatened to "Delete my whole blog from the entire internet" if I posted the pic. (Notice how little rays appear to shoot from his eyes when he's mad?)
I wasn't too worried, since he really doesn't even know how to find my blog on his own much less somehow hack into blogger. Fortunately for him he has no evil genius aspirations to take over the inter-web. The cats are going from aloof disdain mode into cuddle mode now that it's getting a bit colder. Mike has an on again off again thing with Tootie (the darker one) that's probably going to be "on" again now.
That's it from here-- oh-- I found out Weezer is actually Fri, so the countdown is moved up a day!
The Ghost Of Brownies Past
That was the smell I awoke to yesterday. Dan, in his continuing quest to be the most beloved man on the planet, makes brownies for his work whenever it's someone's birthday. That means when I get up about an hour later the entire house smells like brownies i can't have. Not a stellar way to begin the day.
Check out "Say It Ain't So" by "the best band-- that's right, Rivers said it" Weezer. This is a beautiful song that eases you into the rock vibe. At around 3:15 is my favorite part-- all the "yeah--yeah yeah's" that are so gratifying to belt out. This is a cool video too because it's just them playing. They were so young here, so puppy-ish almost. Very endearing. I wonder if the drummer is thinking "hand, foot, hand hand foot" when he looks down like I still have to.
Today the mission is to not freeze while welding. When it's in the 50's it's pretty cold if you're out there all day. Layers dummy! Aside from staying warm and getting a lot done I will try to maintain-- not let the occasional crappy wind or rust damaged weld pull my trigger. Yesterday I got really pissed at one point and when the tree i was working on didn't show the proper amount of terror when I gripped it menacingly and yelled a bunch of curse words at it. It almost went to live in the woods for real-- as far as I could fling it.
Have a good one-- jam out.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
It's Time I Got Beck
Beck's playing at Roy Wilkins tonight. No, I'm not going. I'm saving myself for Weezer Sat. Enjoy this video though staring the beck puppets. Yes-- he has puppets of his whole band and they make little videos of them, not just playing, but touring the towns they play and hanging out. Linda and I were talking about the potential of this idea-- creating alter egos in puppet form. Hmmm... Stay tuned.
Today is a welding day -- trees. Check out Beck in the player. If "Soul Of A Man" doesn't make you subtly grove something I can't help you. Also-- it is count down to Weezer week, so listen to "Hash Pipe" and "Good Life" and rock out.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Progress Check
Today was a welding day. It was pretty nice out until the wind kicked up later, so that made it easier to handle. My deadline loometh. As usual, it looks like some of my welds will still be hot when I'm loading the trailer.
This doesn't look like much but actually represents hours of work. They're "trunks" of trees for my famous "attractive little groupings of trees." They start out about 8 feet long and then I have to kind of mangle them by hand bending them through my vice so they look artfully random, then they get cut into three different lengths, again, randomness is the goal, so I obsess about varying this slightly, then all the ends need to be rounded off on the grinder. The little deals hanging off the front of my bench are the first branch unions.
These are also hand bent, then cut into a couple of lengths, slag removed, and welded. They are actually more "V's" than "W's", but you know-- it's "count down to Weezer week".... So they remind me of "w's"....
So my entire day amounted to basically this-- a pile of partially completed trees, only two of the sizes. I still have a pile of the smallest size trunks waiting for branches. The day began alright. My iPod was cooperating, playing all awesome music so I could at least jam out, but it kind of went downhill. My mojo kind of abandoned me as the day went on, and somehow the old iPod played B-side, after flippin' sterogum freebie, after B-side. Not jamtastic, not at all, and i was too busy to remedy this. I had wind problems, grounding issues-- without getting all technical-- both things that can make your welds less sweet than usual. I pride myself on my wicked welds, even though most people wouldn't know what they're looking at, so it pisses me off when they're less than perfect.
My hand began hurting too. This happens more the older I get (boo). I have a super strong grip from all this. If you ever find yourself dangling from a cliff by one hand I'm the gal you want to grab your wrist. I may be too weak to actually pull you up, but at least we can have a nice long talk while you hang there. When I do a ton of the same thing though, as with this "production mode," my thumb joint feels like it's about to give out. It's gotten bad enough that I couldn't even hold my toothbrush once when I was on a really tight deadline and couldn't stop.
The jewelry is coming along nicely. I'm making a lot more than I have other years in light of the whole econ sitch. I'm guessing $20 things may be easier to sell than $85 and up stuff. We'll see.
In other fasinating news, drumming practice went surprisingly well today. I still want actual drums, because the cookie sheet keeps sliding all over as I stomp on it and I keep having to fish it out from under the chair while trying not to lose the beat, an issue that I highly doubt plagues other musicians. But this is just a new-- hobby I guess. It's not like I have a deadline. No big gigs booked yet or anything. Pillow and cookie sheet it is, for now.
I needs to go running now. Take a listen to "Island In The Sun" by, you guessed it, Weezer in the player-- the song I'm going to start out to. It's not hard at all, so don't be afraid. You'll like.
This doesn't look like much but actually represents hours of work. They're "trunks" of trees for my famous "attractive little groupings of trees." They start out about 8 feet long and then I have to kind of mangle them by hand bending them through my vice so they look artfully random, then they get cut into three different lengths, again, randomness is the goal, so I obsess about varying this slightly, then all the ends need to be rounded off on the grinder. The little deals hanging off the front of my bench are the first branch unions.
These are also hand bent, then cut into a couple of lengths, slag removed, and welded. They are actually more "V's" than "W's", but you know-- it's "count down to Weezer week".... So they remind me of "w's"....
So my entire day amounted to basically this-- a pile of partially completed trees, only two of the sizes. I still have a pile of the smallest size trunks waiting for branches. The day began alright. My iPod was cooperating, playing all awesome music so I could at least jam out, but it kind of went downhill. My mojo kind of abandoned me as the day went on, and somehow the old iPod played B-side, after flippin' sterogum freebie, after B-side. Not jamtastic, not at all, and i was too busy to remedy this. I had wind problems, grounding issues-- without getting all technical-- both things that can make your welds less sweet than usual. I pride myself on my wicked welds, even though most people wouldn't know what they're looking at, so it pisses me off when they're less than perfect.My hand began hurting too. This happens more the older I get (boo). I have a super strong grip from all this. If you ever find yourself dangling from a cliff by one hand I'm the gal you want to grab your wrist. I may be too weak to actually pull you up, but at least we can have a nice long talk while you hang there. When I do a ton of the same thing though, as with this "production mode," my thumb joint feels like it's about to give out. It's gotten bad enough that I couldn't even hold my toothbrush once when I was on a really tight deadline and couldn't stop.
The jewelry is coming along nicely. I'm making a lot more than I have other years in light of the whole econ sitch. I'm guessing $20 things may be easier to sell than $85 and up stuff. We'll see.
In other fasinating news, drumming practice went surprisingly well today. I still want actual drums, because the cookie sheet keeps sliding all over as I stomp on it and I keep having to fish it out from under the chair while trying not to lose the beat, an issue that I highly doubt plagues other musicians. But this is just a new-- hobby I guess. It's not like I have a deadline. No big gigs booked yet or anything. Pillow and cookie sheet it is, for now.I needs to go running now. Take a listen to "Island In The Sun" by, you guessed it, Weezer in the player-- the song I'm going to start out to. It's not hard at all, so don't be afraid. You'll like.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
When The Cat's Away...
So Dan's away on his man weekend and that leaves me to my own devices. I actually like having the place to myself occasionally. Some gal pals I know get kind of creeped-out by being alone but I digs it. Besides, what's to worry about? -- I have my ingenious scotch tape security system and all the watch cats, and of course that fact that my groovy driveway sharing neighbor's house is only like 50 feet away helps too...
So what do I do with all this uncharted, unobserved time? -- Let's take a looky.
1) The jamming out has been pretty unconstrained around here since the hubster pulled out of the driveway. Ordinarily I keep it to a courteous minimum-- except when he's mowing the lawn in which case I give him full-on sliding glass door rockfests when he drives by and taunt him by pretending I'm about to remove clothing. Yes-- it's hilarious.
Since he's not around to cringe I can just walk around the house belting out "hardest button to button" or "lithium" or "stacked actors" to my heart's content. No shower curtain required.
2) Drum practice on my rockin' pillow and cookie sheet. I also have begun using a pen in the car, trying to train my left arm to become a human metronome, which is surprisingly easy so far. I think something might have flipped in my brain suddenly making this easier to grasp-- at least with no sheet music in front of me.
3) Went to an art gig solo last night. Just as well, he really doesn't like going to openings etc much, although a lot of our friends were at this one so it was more fun. It was kind of like just a regular party, except there were some strangers wandering around buying art, scooting around us, and otherwise interrupting the consumption of free wine.
I added a bass player and maybe a lead guitar to my pretend band (nacho mama), and two guys have now offered to share their drumming expertise with me. One has a kit that he can't really use anymore (carpal tunnel-- bummage) and we may "work something out". He was trying to get me to trade away Dan's riding lawn mower for them last night but I resisted. Am I the dream wife or what? This would have upset Dan, and wrecked my sliding glass door rock shows, so I put my interests aside-- for him. Ahh love.
4) Jeans shopping. I did NEED new jeans. I have literally almost worked my ass all the way off, causing all my current pairs to practically sag off my back end. I'm happy to report I am officially letting go of my most superficial goal, which truthfully made me disappointed in myself anyway. It was to become skinny enough and rich enough to one day be able to shop at Anthropology. I don't have much money yet, but decided to go there and whet my appetite for all the stuff I could probably fit into now. They had tons of cute stuff, as always, but you know?-- cords just aren't worth 150 bucks to me. What are they?-- magic? Are they somehow synced right to your brain to give you an instantaneous gratifying massage anywhere you want? (If someone actually invents these magic "pleasure pants"-- I want a cut.)
I found my ass actually looked just as good in the jeans I picked up at JC Penny's (I know! -- but check it out, some actually cute stuff). I also got one pair of just plain good old levi's which are classics and you can get anywhere. Really, my butt cannot tell the difference. I guess it's a cheap date.
5) Curiously, "the normal" also took place. I always picture leaping through clouds of feathers fresh from some kind of amazing wild ninja pillow fighting solo action or, I don't know, making and eating a whole pan or brownies or something-- you know, some "parents away for the weekend" type hijinks. But all I wind up doing is working in the driveway, checking email, renting some flicks, getting a takeout pizza. Pretty tame. Oh well, I must conserve my energy for WEEZER next weekend!
Hope your Sat was a good as mine!
So what do I do with all this uncharted, unobserved time? -- Let's take a looky.
1) The jamming out has been pretty unconstrained around here since the hubster pulled out of the driveway. Ordinarily I keep it to a courteous minimum-- except when he's mowing the lawn in which case I give him full-on sliding glass door rockfests when he drives by and taunt him by pretending I'm about to remove clothing. Yes-- it's hilarious.
Since he's not around to cringe I can just walk around the house belting out "hardest button to button" or "lithium" or "stacked actors" to my heart's content. No shower curtain required.
2) Drum practice on my rockin' pillow and cookie sheet. I also have begun using a pen in the car, trying to train my left arm to become a human metronome, which is surprisingly easy so far. I think something might have flipped in my brain suddenly making this easier to grasp-- at least with no sheet music in front of me.
3) Went to an art gig solo last night. Just as well, he really doesn't like going to openings etc much, although a lot of our friends were at this one so it was more fun. It was kind of like just a regular party, except there were some strangers wandering around buying art, scooting around us, and otherwise interrupting the consumption of free wine.
I added a bass player and maybe a lead guitar to my pretend band (nacho mama), and two guys have now offered to share their drumming expertise with me. One has a kit that he can't really use anymore (carpal tunnel-- bummage) and we may "work something out". He was trying to get me to trade away Dan's riding lawn mower for them last night but I resisted. Am I the dream wife or what? This would have upset Dan, and wrecked my sliding glass door rock shows, so I put my interests aside-- for him. Ahh love.
4) Jeans shopping. I did NEED new jeans. I have literally almost worked my ass all the way off, causing all my current pairs to practically sag off my back end. I'm happy to report I am officially letting go of my most superficial goal, which truthfully made me disappointed in myself anyway. It was to become skinny enough and rich enough to one day be able to shop at Anthropology. I don't have much money yet, but decided to go there and whet my appetite for all the stuff I could probably fit into now. They had tons of cute stuff, as always, but you know?-- cords just aren't worth 150 bucks to me. What are they?-- magic? Are they somehow synced right to your brain to give you an instantaneous gratifying massage anywhere you want? (If someone actually invents these magic "pleasure pants"-- I want a cut.)
I found my ass actually looked just as good in the jeans I picked up at JC Penny's (I know! -- but check it out, some actually cute stuff). I also got one pair of just plain good old levi's which are classics and you can get anywhere. Really, my butt cannot tell the difference. I guess it's a cheap date.
5) Curiously, "the normal" also took place. I always picture leaping through clouds of feathers fresh from some kind of amazing wild ninja pillow fighting solo action or, I don't know, making and eating a whole pan or brownies or something-- you know, some "parents away for the weekend" type hijinks. But all I wind up doing is working in the driveway, checking email, renting some flicks, getting a takeout pizza. Pretty tame. Oh well, I must conserve my energy for WEEZER next weekend!
Hope your Sat was a good as mine!
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Attention Rock Scaredy Cats...
I think I can almost guarantee you'll like this week's Fri Fav Lyrics pick. It's a guy I just discovered on the current (single handedly saving music radio -- and they stream, you wild Canadians). He's Conor Oberst, (coming to first ave in oct...) and when I heard him compared to Dylan (as in Bob) I rolled my eyes and went-- "right." Then when I heard him-- I was blown away. I haven't been this excited lyrically for a long time. I can't wait to hear more. This is the kind of songwriting that makes us all better writers just like taking a dip in the poetry pool can. I'm just going to print out the whole awesome "Cape Canaveral" here for your enjoyment, and do take a listen in the player. This isn't my usual fare-- it's mellow and beautiful. Remember to support the artists you enjoy by buying their music.
Oh, oh, oh brother totem pole
I saw your legends lined up
And I never felt more natural
Apart, I just came apart
Please, please, please sister Socrates
You always answer with a question
Show some kindness to a petty thief
Forgive, you did forgive
Watch the migrants smoke in the old orange grove
And the red rocket blaze over Cape Canaveral
You’ve been a father to me
In 1960’s speak
In the comatose joy that we’re on TV
While the mountain’s side was shining
Wild colors of my destiny
I watched your face age backwards
Changing shape in my memory
You told me victory’s sweet
Even deep in the cheap seats
Hey, hey, hey mother interstate
Can you deliver me from evil
Make me honest make me wedding cake
Atone, I will atone
Wait, wait, wait mighty outer-space
All that flying saucer terror
Made me lazy drinking lemonade
A waste, it just went to waste
Like the Freon cold out the hotel door
Or the white rocket fade over Cape Canaveral
You’ve been a daughter to me
Your buried shoe-box grief
I felt your poltergeist love like savannah heat
While the waterfall was pouring
Crazy symbols of my destiny
I watched your face die backwards
Little baby in my memory
You told me victory's sweet
Even deep in the cheap seats
And you don’t judge me
That’s not your style
But I won’t see you for a little while
And there’s no worries
Whose got time
All these changes are going to fill your mind
Like the citrus glow off the old orange grove
Or the red rocket blaze over Cape Canaveral
It’s been a nightmare to me
Some 1980’s grief
Gives me parachute dreams
Like old war movies
While the universe was drawn
Perfect circles form infinity
I watched the stars get smaller
Tiny diamonds in my memory
I know that victory is sweet
Even deep in the cheap seats
Oh, oh, oh brother totem pole
I saw your legends lined up
And I never felt more natural
Apart, I just came apart
Please, please, please sister Socrates
You always answer with a question
Show some kindness to a petty thief
Forgive, you did forgive
Watch the migrants smoke in the old orange grove
And the red rocket blaze over Cape Canaveral
You’ve been a father to me
In 1960’s speak
In the comatose joy that we’re on TV
While the mountain’s side was shining
Wild colors of my destiny
I watched your face age backwards
Changing shape in my memory
You told me victory’s sweet
Even deep in the cheap seats
Hey, hey, hey mother interstate
Can you deliver me from evil
Make me honest make me wedding cake
Atone, I will atone
Wait, wait, wait mighty outer-space
All that flying saucer terror
Made me lazy drinking lemonade
A waste, it just went to waste
Like the Freon cold out the hotel door
Or the white rocket fade over Cape Canaveral
You’ve been a daughter to me
Your buried shoe-box grief
I felt your poltergeist love like savannah heat
While the waterfall was pouring
Crazy symbols of my destiny
I watched your face die backwards
Little baby in my memory
You told me victory's sweet
Even deep in the cheap seats
And you don’t judge me
That’s not your style
But I won’t see you for a little while
And there’s no worries
Whose got time
All these changes are going to fill your mind
Like the citrus glow off the old orange grove
Or the red rocket blaze over Cape Canaveral
It’s been a nightmare to me
Some 1980’s grief
Gives me parachute dreams
Like old war movies
While the universe was drawn
Perfect circles form infinity
I watched the stars get smaller
Tiny diamonds in my memory
I know that victory is sweet
Even deep in the cheap seats
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