Actor: “oh my god, these pants are AMAZING! Can I take a photo of the tag so I can buy myself a pair?” Bro. They’re Dickies. Tell me you didn’t come from a working class family without telling me.

Oh AI. Give this poor 8-fingered man a break. It’s hard to find the time to wash all of those randomly placed closed spouts and handles when you are clearly just an upper torso growing out of the backsplash…

EVERYTHING is a migraine symptom up in here (points to self)

The only correct way to end a full Thursday of jury duty

Today was gross so I’m just going to share a little joy. I love this painting so much. Every time I run across it it makes me smile.

The massive floor-ceiling windows in the new courthouse are glazed with slightly distorted glass. Like a nauseating new glasses prescription after too many years. Blergh. Even if you’re not acrophobic you’ll feel like you are! Neat!

Beautiful clouds, beautiful skies today…

Poppies… yeah.

Anna’s hummingbirds

Thoughts for the evening: 1) why is it that when people sing the word angel they always pronounce it Ayn-Gel? 2) if the wine is sufficiently sweet then nugget ice is a perfectly acceptable addition. These thoughts are definitely not related in any way.

Sorta Pipevine Swallowtail butterfly. The best thing about bead weaving is that it is comparatively quick to work up. Like, this single earring was a couple hours of stitching, but just cutting a garment out properly takes longer than that, you know? This is why making earrings is my therapy craft.

100% certain that my husband always makes me water the front yard so that he won’t get cornered by missionaries out there. Thanks, honey.

Are they the stupidest thing I’ve ever made? Maybe. But MAN am I enjoying this. Next: pipevine swallowtail butterflies.

Pick a Bond from photos you already have in your phone.

If you see that I was on Facebook no you didn’t. I was checking to see if Marcy Playground announced any new shows on the west coast. I’m VERY PARTICULAR about who I will bow to nazis for.

Some people use velvet boards to keep their beads properly laid out while working on a piece. Some people just accidentally spill the little fuckers all over the table, give up their dreams of having their life together, and just pretend that it works perfectly well to pick them up from between shit

Sometimes you can just feel the panic radiating from old repairs. A little ghost echoes through time plaintively wailing “thank you five…” like the gunshot sounds in a bad flashback moment in a terrible movie.

There is a particular quality to California poppies: in the sunshine they almost glow. It’s impossible to photograph but maybe another hundred dollars worth of craft supplies will finally capture it?

There’s a bit in one of the Scarlet Pimpernels when an aristo is trying to sneak through the gates of Paris dressed as a seamstress & the guard looks at her hands & is like “She’s no steamstress! Arrest this woman!” And this is what they are talking about.

The Black Bead, a short film

I’m an anxious driver and I am generally opposed to rude gestures in mixed company, but when a cybertruck cuts you off through a RR crossing I think whatever fingers automatically pop up are justified.

Someone in another department just asked if I was making tombstones.

Failing, failing, over the bounding main..,

Our chest freezer is only for essentials

So, friends: I promised I'd tell the story. Now I shall. Let a (former) psych nurse tell you the true (gods help us) story of a night in a big-time NYC emergency room: and the arrival of The Man With The Bloomingdales Bag. (1/n)

This has to be the funniest GD collection of dollhouse objects I’ve ever seen for sale, including mini alcohol bottles/glasses, tiny plastic ice cubes… and a toilet. (I was searching for tiny Tanqueray bottles to make earrings, shut up)

One of my favorite animal videos, probably taken at Disney's Animal Kingdom: four asian small-clawed otters racing back and forth across the grass like a troop of predatory socks, hopping up to try and snatch a butterfly out of the air.

My yard: currently growing Tim Burton’s weird mushrooms.

Some weird little mushrooms in my garden, apparently called Dung Cups, which is very… poetic. I guess. Plus a little guy growing out of a deteriorating park picnic table.

A coworker asked for “the brightest green you can find” for her sister. They look like little aliens. I might have to rework this pattern into aliens, now…

I’ve been craving some blue lobster earrings so instead of paying someone $20 I used like $30 of materials and an hour of my time to do the job (probably) worse, but OH the feeling of accomplishment!

Experimenting with things until I make all the mistakes and learn all the lessons the hard way. Now I need to try wearing this around the house for a couple hours to see what happens to the fringe so I can remake the blackbird wings AGAIN…

Blackbird tell no lies… First fringy earrings, based on one of my favorite birbs.

💖 She's living her best life 🌿💚💚💖💖💚💖💖💚💚🌿

All the ladies at work now have wiggly skeleton earrings (they already think I’m weird🤷‍♀️)

Boy, I sure did need another hobby that costs money and takes up space!

Just shattered another GD skeleton, so switching projects for the evening. I prefer the look of the thread, but the wire might be needed to keep the branches distributed properly.

Zappin' it to ya, the pressure’s everywhere Goin' right through ya The fever's in the air, oh yeah, it's there Debbie Gibson 19:89

My god… the way the creative community just felt this in their bones…

I’m sure there are people who *haven’t* spilled entire tubes of seed beads all over themselves and the floor multiple times in their lives… I just do NOT want to hear from them.

Our new album is out today! A sincere request to help spread the word!

My craft project for the rainy weekend: Attempts two and three. Two’s legs are too short and on three a couple of the beads shattered. Try try again.

I wish that perfume wasn’t a horrible migraine trigger because I would really like to smell like Debbie Gibson circa 1989 right now

Practically neon rainbow after work this afternoon

In the past two years has life progressed to the point that I can throw out my extensive collection of tags and notes regarding income tax return extraction and routing? Please say yes.

I usually bring my lunch like a good lil bean, but sometimes I need one of those lemonades that can kill a man. That stuff that makes fuzzy Marina backbeats play in your head. I would call it Disco Lemonade but I’ve already decided that that’s just cocaine cut with Crystal Light.

A coworker recently quit to work full time in adult entertainment and damn if it doesn’t sound more stable than our company. Do you think there’s a market for an OnlyFans account featuring fully clothed needlepointing while singing Marcy Playground songs off-key? Because if so I could make BANK.