Death by Krispy Kreme.

I just sent this email to a friend:

For lunch we went to this Italian place for my bosses birthday and I ate the world. Then I ate the world's dessert. In five minutes there's going to be cake. I might hurl.

Yesterday someone dropped an entire dozen Krispy Kreme doughnuts on my desk as a "thank you" for helping with an event. I wanted to ask that person what I did to make them hate me so much that they'd leave TWELVE DOUGHNUTS on my desk. What the crap? Why? It's really completely impossible to have an entire box of doughnuts in front of you and not eat one. Or two. It's a conspiracy.

I am generally pretty healthy with my eating but I'm not made of steel, people. I do have a weakness and it's name is sugar. If I lay off altogether I stop wanting it so so so much, but it doesn't take much to get me to throw myself backwards off the wagon, clutching a Krispy Kreme box to my bosom.

I think I've turned the corner, though, because when offered a chunk of store-bought birthday cake, thick with a wedge of lardy white icing, I politely declined. I mean, shit, I don't even like sheet cake! I know this statement pretty much translates into, "I hate freedom and puppies" for some people, but really, why would I eat something I don't even like, just for the illicit caloric joy of processed icing sugar gritting between my teeth? It's NOT WORTH IT.


(The doughnut, on the other hand, was fucking fantastic.)

Why any kid would want to be a crafter is beyond me.

HI WHY DID I SAY I'D DO THIS. Nothing noteworthy or terribly annoying happened today so I guess I'll post those pictures from the show that I keep yapping about. It was an indoor show which was nice for a change, except that we basically spent the entire day indoors. This is a sad feeling for me unless the weather is crap. It was not crap last Saturday.

Ahem, our booth with Kate behind it busily working on something:

I like this one because you can see me in the mirror. Kate is still busy and pretending to not notice I'm taking a picture:

This is Modern June's corner. Unfortunately some guys that smelled like motor oil moved in next door:

This is Erica of Bees Knees Studio being mad at me for taking a sneaky picture:

So I took this one to appease her. Nice of me to post both:

This is our next door neighbor Darling Company's view . She was fun to eavesdrop on and was wearing cute boots:

This is Cleo Dees. Cleo Dees rules so much and Kate and I are practically squid-stalkers:

This is Disquieting Designs. Y'ALL, SHE MAKES ALL THAT:

Lord, that's all for now, except how did I not get a picture of Missing Monsters? Sorry Deanna.

Make me a happy girl and click on some of those links and do a little handmade shopping, okay? Okay.

Bread Pudding is my God Now.

Really, it's always right before bed when I realize, oh shit, I have to do that every-day-blog-posty-shit. Lord. I have better things to do like brush my teeth, take out my contacts, and stare at my pores two inches from the mirror. Anyway, yesterday was our seventh wedding anniversary (yay us!) but the restaurant we wanted to go to doesn't do dinner on Sunday night. So, we went tonight and holy crap, holy crap, it was awesome. They do this date night special where you split a bottle of wine, a giant salad, a giant-er bowl of pasta and a dessert for $35. The price doesn't even matter though because the restaurant (Avenue 805 if you're local) is so good that you don't care if it's a bargain or not.

The dessert is always bread pudding and it's always the most amazing thing I've ever eaten. I snarfed it down in moany little spoonfuls and was secretly delighted when Kenny declared himself full because MORE DELICIOUSNESS FOR ME, SUCKER. We rolled home with happy full bellies and halfway through Chuck I realized I was still thinking about that bread pudding and cried a little tear of sadness and joy. Which reminds me of a story:

The Story of Kenny's Brother's Pig Petunia Who Cried.

Once Kenny's brother had a little potbellied pig named Petunia but he overfed her and she got crazy-ass enormous. Little pigs are cute. Crazy-ass enormous pigs are not, but that's not the point. Anyway, some friend of Kenny's brother gave him some barbecued elk meat and he gave some to the pig. Petunia was apparently so overcome with joy over the delicious elk meat that she wept. Yes, she cried tears of meat-induced joy. Kenny still cracks up when he tells me about it so I know it's true. Now go to bed.

Documenting The Crazy

Okay, I'm kind of a liar because you'll have to wait until tomorrow for the photos. I'm tired and this time change thing isn't helping at all. I did enjoy my extra hour of sleep this morning, though. That part ruled. Anyway, one story before bedtime:

Toothless Crazy Lady Steals Our Shit

When she walked up I sort of held my breath because I am very adept at recognizing the crazy when I see it and usually it's 1,000 weird questions but no purchase of any kind. We'd been having a good run up to that point and were feeling mildly successful. Before she got started, the toothless crazy lady (who in retrospect looked a bit cracked out and had this insane tongue that she kept lapping around her lips in a way that was truly, truly disgusting.) asked us upfront if we'd except her husband's credit card because, "The card is in his name but I pay the bills."

Sure, we're pretty trusting and haven't been burned yet. She picked out a couple of pieces pretty quickly, we ran her card with our little knuckle-buster and off she went to the next vendor. I suggested to Kate that we call in the card as soon as possible and then we realized we didn't have our merchant number and the phone number with us. We shrug, we carry on sitting out the Longest Show Ever.

A while later I come back from the bathroom and Kate says, "I have bad news and worse news." The bad news was that all the info we needed to call in the charge was, uh, printed right on our card swiper. Duh. The worse news is that Kate called in Crazy's charge and it was all, DO NOT HONOR.

So yeah, it was pretty dumb of us, but in three years this is the first time we've been ripped off so we're not too upset by it. It takes too much time (and cellphone $) to call in each charge as we get them, but from now on we'll call in anything that raises alarm bells. I don't like to judge people by appearance, but she had the swirly-eyed stamp of crazy written all over her face and we should have trusted our instincts on this one.

Kate's take on it was that if the crazy lady needed some sparkly jewels in her life badly enough to steal them, then maybe they were meant to be hers. Heh.

Three Days In and I'm Flailing.

We got back from the DC Craft Mafia show at 10:30pm. It was semi-succesful except that we got ripped off by a toothless woman. I can't make stuff like that up! I swear. I also got to meet Essaywriter which was pretty cool too. Those were the highlights, such as they were. I bought a few little things, the best of which is a button that says "Gah!" I think Essaywriter got one too. You are so jealous. I am going to bed now - more tomorrow with a few pictures! Woo.

You Could Be RAD. R-A-D!

HI HI OMG HI. HIHIHHI. Guess what I did this morning? I got up stupid-early and went to spinning class at 6:15am because, seriously, desperate measures. I missed my workout yesterday and tomorrow I'm out of town for a show, so I had to do what had to be done. It's not that bad, really, once you're up. My brain continues to snooze until I'm actually in the spinning studio at which point it wakes up all, "Wassah...bikey...whoosat...WHY?" and then we're off and no more thinky, just spinning and sweat and good/bad loud music. Love it.

By the time I leave I am a) completely starving and, b) WIRED. WHICH I STILL AM. Seriously, someone put a helmet on me because I feel like I've been mainlining pixie stix and it's two in the afternoon and I'm vibrating. I'll probably go home and fall in the door half-asleep, but still, all this energy can't be normal. I guess getting up at 5:30am to exercise ain't so normal either but I HAD TO.

The craft show tomorrow is in D.C. (though actually in Bethesda) and hopefully will be awesome. Thankfully, it doesn't start until noon. Unthankfully it goes until 8pm. What the hell is that? Eight hours? Seriously? Add in drive time and that's a 12 hour workday. That sucks. Suckety suck sucks. We better sell some stuff, is all I'm saying. Hmph.

Okay, I'm off to bounce off some walls. BYE Y'ALL.

It's gonna BLOW UP, Y'ALL.

I suddenly got a wildly Halloween candy-induced urge to make the internets blow up by posting every goddamn day in November. WHY WOULD I DO THAT.

The kitty told me too. And maybe it'll net me some COMMENTS AROUND HERE. Because sheesh, I open up my soul to you bitches and I get nothing back so then I'm reduced to groveling for your approval. I don't know why I need it so much.

Since there's a giant kitty up there I guess I should tell you what's going on with my cats. Something strange happened recently in that it got chilly out and all of a sudden the girls are real friendly-like. They are very pushy about the laps and very insistent that they need to be in your lap right this second and oh, I'm sorry, were you eating? Can I have some of your food while I sit here in your lap? Can you just drop a fry in my mouth? No? Whynotwhynotwhynotttttt.

Wait, that was pretty much just Fuzz who does that. Zephyr is mildly interested in food but mostly just wants to be in Kenny's lap. I don't think she's ever so much as looked at my lap even though I saved her from an untimely death and raised her myself. Stella couldn't care less what you're eating (unless it's tuna steak) and also has no lap interest except when the moon is three quarters full in odd months and it's also Tuesday. She's such a bizarre cat. She'll talk your ear off but get offended if you try to pet her. Or, she'll settle comfortably near you and welcome petting with sweet purring until she wants you to stop, which you'll know because her eyes will begin to glow red and she'll razor her paw at your throat.

Pets are so enriching to our lives, aren't they?