if you were a business card, where would you be?

Hurrah, they’re here! This is a selection of the minicards I ordered from moo. I have to give them kudos for the sleek look, the unique design, and the swift service!

Now, the big question is – what do I do with them? I’m not so adept at finding appropriate opportunities to pass out promotional materials without sounding too salesy. I hate being salesy. I need to brainstorm on this one.

Where/how do you hand out your business cards?

On an unrelated topic, the S.O. finally joined the 21st century and bought a new digital camera. It’s tiny and cute and makes my digital SLR look sad and outdated. I see it as extra motivation for me to take more photos and sell more prints so I can upgrade my current equipment!

it’s not all about me (me, me, me!)

So instead of talking about myself for once, I’d like to talk about someone else! Specifically, three someone-elses – three sellers from Etsy, all of whom I’ve had great experiences with.

sarahridgley – letterpress cards and coasters
I found Sarah Ridgley’s shop just as she was waiting for her 100th heart. It’s entirely unlike me to stumble into such good fortune (and if the “supreme being” has a sense of humor, I’ll probably be hit by a bus soon) but there you have it. As a “thank you” for being her 100th, she sent me a beautiful card (complete with a stamp, which is good, because I never remember to buy them) and a monogrammed letterpress coaster. Now I have my eye on the Notes from an Outlaw set. That way, if I am run over, the S.O. will have a hip and stylish way to let everyone know!

youstinksoap – vegan soaps, fragrance bars, and lip balms
Have I mentioned that I’m a lip balm junkie? I am. Especially if said lip balm tastes like calories. Mmmmmm, calories. Thankfully the lip balm sampler set I bought has no calories, only a light, sweet flavor, while my lips are left feeling soft and smooth. Now my only problem is deciding on a favorite. If I had to choose just one, I think I’d pick Key Lime Cheesecake… no, wait, Coconut Lemongrass… or, wait, maybe Raspberries and Creme? Eurgh… nevermind. Just buy one of each, and you’ll have a desert buffet for your lips.

theblackapple – illustration and other things
I don’t think there’s a single person on Etsy who doesn’t already know of theblackapple, but that’s no surprise, because her work is worth a look – or six! It’s cute, but with an edge of creepy. I like cute, but I really like cute-creepy. I chose the “Branch Bed” print because the colors are eerily similar, if not identical, to those in our bedroom. Yes, there is a lot of pink in our bedroom, and no, the S.O. doesn’t have much say in the matter, but even he could not deny that Emily’s work is top notch.

oh, dilemma

So, I’ve rediscovered Blogger.

One of the things I really like about it is the ability to customize my sidebars and have complete control over colors, fonts, layout, scripts, etc.  It goes without saying that I’m a control freak, and I find the overall look is much cleaner than Vox.  Vox used to be clean, but now it’s cluttered.

The only thing that’s missing at Blogger is… you!

I really enjoy the social networking aspect of Vox.  There are groups to join, tags to explore, new people to meet.  Vox also affords me more privacy than Blogger, which is important, because sometimes I get a little, err, personal.  Y’know.

So for now, I’ll probably cross-post Etsy- and photography-related entries to both Blogger and Vox, and keep the more personal stuff here.  It’s a messy solution, but until I can automatically feed posts to Vox from Blogger, it’s all I got!

UPDATE:  Apparently you CAN automatically feed posts to Vox from Blogger, using the Mobile Blogging settings in Vox.  This is good to know.  Pardon the ridiculous number of test posts that will ensue.

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smuckin’ wonderful

I can’t say that my love of books and reading started with Stephen King.  No, my parents get to take the credit there.  Their house was filled with books – books on shelves, books in boxes; ancient, dusty volumes and cheap, colorful paperbacks alike.  We read, and we were read to… The Hobbit, The Little Prince, Watership Down, all the classics, and then some.

Lisey's Story
Stephen King

Though I do love to read, I don’t know if I’d call myself an avid reader… no, I’m a one-chapter-before-bed kinda gal.  It’s hard for me to sit still (and stay awake) long enough to pull an all-nighter with a book, no matter how intriguing.  The S.O., on the other hand, consumes books.  He can read, and read, and read, and you wouldn’t even know he was alive if he didn’t have to turn pages, because he has the ability to sit absolutely still for hours, just reading a book.  I wish I had his ability for quietude.

I’m also incredibly selective about the books I buy – if I won’t read it more than once, I won’t buy it.  My book collection is small, but I’ve read every book at least twice, most three or four times.  This, in striking contrast to the S.O., who is an equal-opportunity book-buyer. If it’s words on a page sandwiched between two pieces of bookboard, it’s fair game.  Where I have one tall bookshelf of books, the S.O. has four… five… maybe six….  He’d probably have more, except we don’t actually have enough bookshelves to house them all.  I swear, his books actually breed.  As a result, our house looks very much like my parents’ house did when I was young… books on shelves, books in boxes, books on the bedroom floor that I will certainly trip over on my way to the bathroom at 3 a.m. And that’s okay, because there are worse things to trip over in the middle of the night… Legos come to mind.

Even when I love an author, I don’t necessarily love all of their books, or aspire to own the complete collection.  In the case of Stephen King, there’s a lot of work to choose from, and a couple of his novels just didn’t hit the spot with me. Gerald’s Game was almost too dark (though I suppose if you want real life horror, child molestation is about as horrific as it gets) and definitely too gory.  Cell fell flat with me entirely – it felt stale, like the story never really got off the ground, and the conclusion was anticlimactic.  I’d bought the book blindly (c’mon, it’s “Stephen King does zombies!”  How can I go wrong?) but I was very disappointed.

So when I saw Lisey’s Story in the store a few weeks ago, I approached with caution.  I read the inside cover flap and wasn’t turned off, but I wasn’t hooked either.  I read a few excerpts and those, while well-written, didn’t move me.  I actually went to the store twice and picked up the book with the intention to buy it both times, but before we could make it to the counter I’d put it back and think, “I don’t trust you anymore, Stephen King.  That Cell thing just didn’t cut it.  I need time.  It’s not you, it’s me.”  What it finally took was a blog post from another of my favorite authors – Jennifer Weiner – to convince me that I needed to give Lisey’s Story a chance.  So, after the third trip to the bookstore, I picked it up and held on tight, all the way through the checkout process.

Even after I’d bought it, though, I let the book sit on my nightstand for a week.  You can blame Richard Russo and Empire Falls, since I can’t very well pick up a new book without finishing the one I’m currently reading.  It’s just not right, and I knew I liked Empire Falls, whereas Lisey’s Story was not a trusted companion… yet.  But last Saturday I woke up at 6:30 in the morning with one purpose in mind:  Finish Empire Falls so I can take a shot at Lisey.

And wow, I’m glad I did.  I spent much of Sunday and Monday night with Lisey and her story.  I’m not entirely sure what it is that makes this book so good.  There’s this underlying tension throughout the novel, this dream-like quality that makes me think I’m trapped in Lisey’s head, and has me telling myself, “Just one more chapter…” even when I’m exhausted and want to sleep.  There’s also this incredible sense of intimacy… I feel like I’m reading someone’s diary.  It’s been a long time since I’ve found a story that’s captivated me like Lisey’s Story has so far.  It’s not blatantly creepy, but you get the impression that it will come at you and grab you by the throat at any moment.

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weekend recap

Happy Halloween, Voxers!

I’d been meaning to write about our Boston trip, but MMS caught up to me.  Unfortunately there are no documentary photos to go along with this, as I never got a chance to buy film for my Olympus XA-2 point-and-shoot, and I didn’t want to drag the big, digital Pentax *ist D around.  Apologies, though this entry is not entirely without illustration.

I have to admit, I went into this trip feeling ambivalent for a number of reasons:

1) It’s a long drive from Bangor to Boston, and we weren’t familiar with the area at all.  We actually stopped and spent the night in Portland, waking up early Saturday morning to head south instead of doing the whole trip down in one night.  This wasn’t the original plan, but was a good idea nonetheless.  We got lost in Boston even in daylight, so trying to navigate the neighborhood at midnight would have been hell.

2) I’m not a city girl, and the S.O. is even less a city boy.  We’re country mice.  I love the idea of living within walking distance of everything you could possibly want to do or see, but the crowds kill me.  2-3 days in the big city and I’m ready to see wide open spaces again.

3) I knew that we’d only have a short amount of time to explore, and while I certainly wanted to see some sights, the original reason we were there was to see my friend and her future hubby.  I hadn’t really thought about it until she brought it up, but we hadn’t actually seen each other in three years!  Where the hell does the time go?  Anyway, rushing around from one stop to another like regular tourists wasn’t going to work, ’cause there was much catching up to do.

4) Finally, we planned this entirely at the last minute, and spontenaiety is not my strong suit.  The fact that we went through with it at all is a tribute to the S.O.’s patience and my own ability to hold my silly nerves at bay.  I think I did particularly well considering I only flipped out at traffic once – a giant truck came flying up on our right side, and at the time I didn’t realize we’d moved from a two-lane high-way to a three-lane.  I thought said giant truck was trying to pass us in the breakdown lane, and this meant certain death for us in our tiny little Golf.   I’m such a dork.

Anyway, as is usually the case, I had absolutely nothing to worry about.  We had a great time and did quite a bit, all things considered.

First things first, shopping!  Because you can’t visit the big city without getting mall-ed at the mall (hah-hah).  We braved the weather and headed out to the monstrousity known as the CambridgeSide Galleria.  The S.O. drooled himself silly at the Apple store (iPods) and Borders (Sony’s new book reader), while my friend and I shopped for clothes (mostly for her, some for me).  I found the best scarf and hat at Old Navy, and thoroughly enjoyed my very first Cinnabon.  Yes, I said my first – I was a Cinnabon virgin until last weekend, and I didn’t know what I’d been missing.  I probably should have stayed in the dark, because if they ever bring Cinnabon to Bangor, they’ll have to roll me out of the store like Violet from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

But I digress.  After the shopping spree our legs and feet were quite sore, so we lunched at the California Pizza Kitchen, then headed to the science museum to catch an Imax movie about Greece history.  I’m almost embarrassed to admit that I was also an Imax virgin (giving my friend a second chance to look at me incredulously and say, “You’ve never what?!?”).  The movie was okay, but the experience itself was a riot.  Now I want to see all my favorite films on a 180-degree dome screen, just for the novelty factor.

After the film, we visited the Body Worlds 2 exhibit.  It was interesting, though I enjoyed it more for the art sculpture than for the human anatomy lesson.  I understood that these were real human body parts, plasticized, but everything still looked… well, like plastic.  I really had to admire the amount of work that went into each of the sculptures, though.  It’s an artform in its own right.

After the exhibit we crashed at my friend’s place, ordered take-out, and talked until all hours.  The next morning we got up early and headed out around 9 to explore Harvard and Harvard Square.  Taking the T was easy-breezy, and the S.O. only got panhandled once!  Good times!  I enjoyed my very first (so many firsts!) chocolate croissant from Au Bon Pain, then we wandered over to the Harvard Museum of Natural History (free admission to local residents, so my friend got us in at no cost).  I’m pretty sure I visited this particular museum as a child, but I didn’t realize it was so huge.  So many exhibits!  I particularly enjoyed the minerals exhibit, the glass flowers exhibit, and the Peabody Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology.  I think we spent a good two hours wandering the place and still didn’t see everything, but by that point we needed to think about lunch, since the S.O. and I wanted to head back to Maine around 1 or 2.  I did stop at the museum’s gift shop before we left and bought a souvenir – Cranky – the most awesome little wind-up toy.  He’s currently sitting on my desk at work, holding up my tag from the natural history museum in his left paw.   I’m in love with him, and now I want an army of crazy wind-up toys from Kikkerland.

We also stopped at the Lush body shop in Harvard Square, where I almost lost my sense of smell from sniffing all the fancy soaps and washes and cremes.  Mmmm.  After fifteen minutes there, everything smelled like cocoa butter – my hands, my clothes, my S.O. (rawr!).  When we told him we were going to the Lush shop, the S.O. thought we were talking about a liquor store, and it might as well have been just that!  A place to get drunk on smelly stuff, mmmm, smelly stuff.  I passed on purchasing anything then, but I might have to order some Chocolate Whipstick lip balm.

Finally, we had a long lunch at UNO’s before it was off into the wild blue yonder.  All around, it was a great trip.  We didn’t get a chance to do everything I wanted (we never made it out to the pastry shops in the North end, and I would have liked to have spent more time at the museums) but I expected that much.  Next time we’ll have to take a couple days off from work and do a long weekend in the city, now that we know a bit more about the area firsthand.  Thanks to everyone who recommended things to see and do!

A quick gaming update:  The S.O. and I missed it since we were out of town, but our guild finally defeated Ragnaros on Saturday; this was only their second serious attempt, but they got him, even though half the “regular” raiders were off at Halloween parties or touring Boston (*ahem*).  Now we can officially say we’ve cleared Molten Core (though I’d like to see it for myself sometime soon!)  Since it seems the Burning Crusade expansion won’t hit the shelves until January 2007, it looks like we’ll all have a shot at trying Blackwing Lair as level 60’s.  Mmm, more dragons.

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give and take

Last Friday, instead of doing our usual go-home-and-crash-on-the-couch routine, I decided the S.O. and I should go see a movie.  Free time is a commodity I suddenly don’t have much of, and I’d like to start spending it more constructively.  How, might you ask?  By paying eight bucks to park my butt on the movie theater’s (much less comfortable) couch and watching a freaky blood-fest, that’s how.

Now, I love a good horror movie.  Ghost stories are my particular favorite, but I’ll watch something gory if it has a substantial plot and is artfully done.  The movie review in the paper said The Descent fell into that category, and so says I:  “We shall go, and I shall not leave the theater until I’ve peed my pants from fright!”  Well, minus the pee part.

The S.O, on the other hand, does not appreciate the finer qualities of waking up in the middle of the night, absolutely certain that you heard something, and knowing that the something in question is a blind, toothy cave-creature that’s come to chew on your extremities.

Go figure!

For those of you who haven’t seen it or heard about it yet, The Descent is about six young women who attempt to navigate an uncharted cave system beneath the Appalachian mountains.  While exploring, they discover that they’re not alone in the cave; blind, toothy cave-creatures have come to chew on their extremities!  It’s really gory, really scary, and evokes a deep sense of claustrophobia, even in those of us who aren’t prone.

As you can imagine, it took quite a bit of persuasion on my part to get the boy to join me, as he does not like gory things, scary things, or tight enclosed spaces as a general rule.  As such, I may have neglected to mention these three elements when suggesting the movie, and I may have gone so far as to say, “Oh honey, it’ll be just like 28 Days Later!  You liked that one!”, knowing full well that the only thing it has in common with 28 Days Later is that it was filmed in the UK.

I’m probably going to hell for that, eh?

Suffice it to say, I enjoyed the movie immensely, and the boy did not enjoy it so much.  Judging from the pointed glare I received from the S.O. upon The Descent’s ending, I’m now going to be forced to watch Miami Vice, in all its macho Colin Farrell glory.  Talk about horror.

The S.O. is going to hold this one over my head for weeks, but I think it was well worth it!

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“blog” is such an ugly word.

I’m recalling the various services I’ve used for journalling over the past several years.  Remember Diaryland?  Remember Scribble?  Remember when Livejournal was the hot new thing?

I suppose I’ve always been more of an online journaller than a blogger.  Blogging implies journalling with the intent to connect with and discuss issues with others, but as a journaller I’ve always focused inward – thoughts, feelings, aspirations, failures.  Ahh, sweet narcissism.

Despite being a devoted Livejournal user for years, I’ve always had a love/hate relationship with online journalling.  I’ve gone back and forth between entirely public journals to entirely private journals, and neither extreme really satisfies me, but the online medium stays the same.  Why?  I spend 70% of my week near a computer, whether it’s for work, school, or play.  Journalling in the space where I spend so much of my time already is, simply, convenient.

But despite all this time I spend floating about the Internet, I’m a terrible blogger.   Too introverted, maybe?  Too self-centered, probably.  We hermits do like our caves.  Vox and co. does not subscribe to the preferred hermit lifestyle, methinks.

(There’s this freaky little Vox-dude on an ad banner on the side of this page, asking me “have you left a comment lately?”  I can’t help but think he’s accusing me!  Already, with the guilt!)

I like posting pictures, when I have new ones to post (a rare occasion).  I enjoy the occasional random thought, link, quote.  But what makes a good blogger, really?  I find myself drawn to the “blogs” that are more like journals than blogs, so what do I know?

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