Excelsior!

As you know, I recently made a sewing table out of video tapes. However, as the table top was unfinished, the victory of this achievement has been, thus far, unearned. Until today.

While I was at the salon having my hair treated after an unfortunate chemical experience I had a few months back, my amazing husband had an epiphany of sorts. He was driving around to thrift stores looking for a cheap television for my craft room when, like a cheap moth to the flame of a liquidation sale, he was lured into a soon to be closed Blockbuster Video.

Upon entering this last bastion of pop culture censorship, he saw a large rack of 'backing cards'. What are backing cards you say? They are the plasticy, cardboardy, fake movie box fronts that sit on the shelf and laugh at you after the store is out of every copy of the movie that you were looking for. They are the bitchy tease of the video store world. The tramp who says "oh, you wanted to rent 200 Cigarettes? I'm sorry, but someone else is currently enjoying it, you're going to have to go home empty handed." And they were one sale, 20 for $1. So after picking me up, we went back and now I am the proud owner of 220 backing cards.

Let the crafting begin!

First thing's first, I had to finish my sewing table top.

What I will do with the rest is really anyone's guess. I'm definitely excited to get started on whatever it is though, now that part of my craft room is organized...

Yay!!

Oregon Classic Cat Show 2011!

As a mother of three FIV+ shelter cats, I have mixed feelings about the spirit of the Oregon Classic Cat Show. I went last year and had a ton of fun with my cat lady friend, Katrina. Though at the time Katrina and I both agreed that it would be better if all the cats were rescues and were up for adoption. Part of me feels that "showing" pure bred cats misses the whole spirit of being a cat owner.

At the same time, the cat show is fucking awesome. Rows and rows of lazy, pampered cats. These cats are all funky looking, to boot. It's rare for me to see pure breds and since I'm a huge fan of felines it's quite a treat.

These are not typical house cats. They have super distinctive features. Persians, Maine-Coons, British Short-Hairs, Scottish Folds, it goes on and on. The most fun was looking at these awesome (highly inbred) breeds and trying to figure out what my cats are made of. I think Bilton is a Turkish Van, The Bot is a Chinchilla and Bits is a Chocolate Lynx Point. Of course, they're "mutts" but that's my best guess for my three adopted baby boys.



This year I went to the Oregon Cat Classic with Shauna and Mikey. One of the most exciting moments for us was seeing this Colleen Donaghy lookalike. Mikey and Shauna posed in front of her so that we could document her fabulousness.


The set up was exactly the same as last year: rows and rows of cats in "cages" with the judging stages off to the sides. There are places to buy cat accessories in the corners of the expo center. (Also just like last year, next door the Gun Show was going on, which made for a funny mix of people in the parking lot.)

Judging:

My favorite cats:

The saddest magnet in the world:

You can bet your sweet bippy that I'll be going to the Oregon Classic Cat Show in 2012. Though, I'm thinking I'm going to wear a t-shirt that says "FIV+" and tally how many dirty looks I get from fancy cat snobs.

Boom like you mean it.

Dog Bed! Throw Pillows!

My mom gave Brad and I a $100 gift certificate to Ikea for Christmas. Going in to that store with free money was one of the greatest experiences of my consumer life. While we were in the throw pillow section, Brad admitted to me that he hated our throw pillow situation. We had an eclectic mix of 8 small-ish throw pillows on our couch. Brad lays on the couch a lot and hates having to deal with all of them. So we ended up buying 2 fatty uncovered Ikea throw pillows. I decided I would use some fabric that we already have to cover them. I didn't want to spend $13 on a pillow cover from Ikea. Eff that.

When we got home I looked through my piles of fabric and found the last of the tablecloths I made for our wedding. (I had already recomissioned the others for window treatments.) I decided these would be perfect for the pillows.

Boom

Bosley approves!

Speaking of Bosley! My next project was to de-stuff those 8 throw pillows that were previously on the couch, and use the stuffing to make Boz a bed! I have a large amount of leopard print fabric that I knew would be perfect. I didn't take any pictures of the process, but it's just a super basic big square pillow. Once I got all the stuffing inside, I realized I would need more. So I found my old Dolly Parton Halloween costume and pulled all the stuffing out of the 38 G bra I had fashioned.

Finally, there seemed to be enough stuffing to make things comfortable for The Bozzman. Once he figured out that it was OK for him to lay on it, it became clear that he loves it!

Also, please note that my dog is the cutest dog in the whole wide world.



PILLOWS!

xoxo

It's all for you, Damien!

I am lazy and unorganized. I don't pretend that I'm not. I'm not sure what impression my husband was under when he married me. We had been living together for over 2 years and he was familiar with my practices. Nevertheless, he's getting really fed up with the way I operate. I don't necessarily blame him. I'm pretty frustrating. Here's the deal: I half-ass my laundry. I do a load and leave the clean clothes in the basket for like 2 weeks. The cats enjoy it because it makes for a sweet bed. Brad, on the other hand does not appreciate it. Evenutally, I'll have picked through the basket of clothes enough to wear it, and the 3 feet of floor that surround it, becomes a jumbled, cat hair covered mess. Then, I deem the clothes too dirty to wear and I start the laundry process over agian. I realize that this is a terrible way to do things. My clothing rotation is terribly uneven. Alas, it's they way I've always done things, and I'm comfortable enough with it. I've found that the benefits of ignoring laundry are much more immediate than the benefits of putting my shit away. There are so many other things I'd rather be doing - like cross stitching or button bouquet-ing or watching 30 Rock on DVD for like 8 hours straight.

I know it's time to be a grown up. The days of having a messy bedroom should be behind me. God bless Brad for being as tolerant as he has been. I suppose we all have our line in the sand. Brad's is being 35 years old and having a 27 year old wife who keeps the bedroom feeling like it belongs to a petulant teenage girl. He's been putting up with me for almost 6 years now. Ugh. Poor guy. So tonight I'm going home and I'm finishing my laundry and putting clothes away. Than at 8pm I'll reward myself with some Must-See-TV.

This one's for you, Braddy. It's all for you.

xoxo

Joy's On The Side

I did it! I finally did it!

My Etsy shop Joy's On the Side is finally up and running. Three needlework pieces have already been purchased, so I'm busy cross stitching so I can add some more items to my shop. All the pictures of my shizz were taken by Mrs. Campbell.

Hooray!

http://www.etsy.com/shop/joysontheside

Hooray for Productivity!

Now that Eric and I live in a place with more than two rooms, I swear I have a new lease on life. I'm still working on my videotape sewing table, but I've hit a bit of a wall with the structural issues so I decided to turn my attention to the DVD shelf that I started a few weeks ago for Eric's Nerdery.

I have to say that I'm pretty proud of myself with this one, it definitely has flaws, but overall a solid first effort. And now Eric has one more shelf for his hoarder-like collecting...

Now, I'm turning my attention back to the sewing table. Wish me luck!

Punch-Worthy

Hello! It's been too long. I have been a terrible blogger. Oh well. Only Lacey reads this, so it doesn't really matter. I made some pillows and a dog bed last night, but I forgot to take pictures, so instead of writing about that, I'm going to write about something that's been driving me CRAZY...

About 3 months in to our marriage, people started asking me when we're going to have kids. My standard reply is, "I don't know, we'll see." What I'm thinking in my head is, "Mind your own goddam business, Assface McGee!".

It gets worse around the holidays. My mom was particularly punch-worthy at Christmas when, in front of a butt-load of my family, she asked us flat out "So when are you going to make me a grandmother?". I gave her my standard reply in the coldest voice possible. Other family members just hinted at it. I'd be holding someone's toddler in my arms and a cousin would say something like "You and Brad are going to have such cute kids." then they'd stare at me expectantly. It's like everyone was waiting for me to announce my pregnancy. I get it - people do that around Christmas -time. Only problem is -I'm not fucking pregnant. And guess what, it's none of your business as to when Brad and I decide to have kids.

Having kids is a huge decision. Financially, emtionally and otherwise. I'm really not looking to discuss that decision with anyone other than my husband and my closest friends.

So when that balding, gingerheaded dillhole in my office makes a comment about how it's my turn to have kids, I just smile at him while thinking to myself, "Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you..." Meanwhile he's prattling on about having kids is just so cool and you'll never experience anything else like it. The problem with this is - I didn't ask. I didn't ask you what it's like to be a parent. I know very little about you (except that you love Dave Matthews Band and you drive a Ford F250) and I don't care about you or your super radical 1-year-old.

Part of the reason for this baby pressure cooker is because seven of my girlfriends are pregnant right now. (Including Mrs. Campbell!) My whole world is infected with the baby fever! I am genuinely happy for all my friends! I can't wait to meet each one of their babies and to squish their chubby legs and coo at them! I'm going to buy them all high-top baby Nike's becase that's the cutest thing ever.

I am just incredibly tired of being asked when Brad and I are going to make a human. Guess what? We'll fucking let you know. How about that? If we decide to have kids, how about I just put out an all-points-bulletin to everyone I've ever spoken to in my entire life. That way, everyone can know everything about my uterus! God knows, what I do with my womb is everybody's business. That much has been made clear to me in the last year.

Yes, I'm bitter. I'm really really tired of people who barely know me asking me about it. Just because we work in the same office, does not mean you can ask me something so personal. Just because we're related by marriage, doesn't mean it's any of your beeswax. Deciding whether or not be become a parent is super hard and super pesonal; and it's presumptuous and rude to ask someone you don't know very well when they're going to have kids.

On behalf of myself and every other childless married couple that you don't know all that well: STOP IT.

Love,

Joy "No I'm not fucking pregnant." Bush

P.S.

The pillows and dog bed I made are super cute so I'll take pics and blog about them soon. Word.

Also, I know I sound really angry in this post, but oh well. I needed to vent, so suck it, Internet.