she was dead silent on the drive home, but that was okay. sometimes, after band practice, she was just out of words. it was a short drive to her house. the only part where it actually felt weird was after i pulled up her parent’s driveway.
after that, the silence stretched so far it smeared and left a weird residue. she kept looking at the car door like she wanted to leave, so i looked at the door too, then she looked at me, and i looked at her, and my first thought was that she was going to tell me that the door was stuck. i was used to that car always doing some damn thing. it was the car me and all my siblings had learned to drive in, and it was really beat to hell. there were dents all over the body, which we’d unsuccessfully tried fixing up with spackle. it had looked nice for maybe a week, but then the sun wrecked it - the spackle cracked up like the mud on the bottom of a dry riverbed and turned a sort of off yellow-white that made the car looked like it had been molded out of chicken shit. it also had a bullet hole it through the cabin that whistled like a toothless old man whenever the car went above 40, so loud it could drown out the radio, and a cabin that smelled so strongly of bugspray that even the arizona summer we drove everywhere we could with the windows down.
(if you have kids one day, you will maybe, possibly, begin to understand how much i loved that car.)
anyway, i was thinking about what else could possibly be wrong with the chickenshitmobile, and she just kept looking at me, and then i wondered if there was something on my face, and she just kept looking at me, and then the penny dropped and i realized she was trying to work up the nerve to break up with me.
now, i’d seen her work up the nerve to do things like this before – it could take quite a while. and knowing it was about to happen made the waiting immediately unbearable.
so i said hey.
and she looked at me, very startled, and said hey back real small. like she’d been caught. and in a way, i suppose she had.
and i said it’s okay. you can just say it. i’ll be okay.
i’m always okay.
and she said: i’m really sorry.
i loved her, you know? it was highschool, but teenagers are capable of love. the way people love changes over time just as much as the way they stand, or the way they talk, but things don’t stop existing just because they're different. opposite really – a thing only stops changing when it's fully gone.
and i said, nothing to be sorry for, and i meant it. she looked a little relived, and i was happy to give her that peace. then she left. i watched her make it through the front door, because that was just habit at that point, and then i sat there a while afterwards, checking how i felt. and the answer was not good, but good enough to make it home. good enough to limp on.
so i put my car in reverse, took my last look goodbye, and immediately backed into her neighbor’s car.
crunch.
air bags didn't go off, which was good. i left a decent dent in the bumper of the other car. genuinely couldn’t tell if i did anything to my car – anything wrong with it just kind of blended together into the general ecosystem of hand mottled, sun cracked, chickenshit spackle.
i checked my glove box, and my car insurance info was, of course, out of date. my phone was dead too. as a teenager, my phone was less my lifeline to my friends, and more my tether to my parents, so i wasn’t particularly conscious of keeping it charged. both my fault.
i sat there a few minutes, trying to think of the best way to handle things, and there was only one answer i could think of, and i hated that answer, so i spent a few more minutes trying and failing to think of a better one, and then a few more coming to peace with what had to be done.
then i went back to knock on my now ex’s front door.
her dad opened, which i was very relieved over, even if he seemed less than thrilled. he looked me over, and in a firm, but slightly apologetic way said: she does not want to see you right now.
(i think he assumed i was going to try and talk her out of the break up?)
and i said not here for her. i just backed into your neighbor’s car, and i need to call my dad, but my phone’s dead. could i borrow yours?
and he looked at me, then back at his neighbors car, which sure enough was dented, then he looked at the chickenshitmobile, and if there was something wrong with it, it just kind of blended into the general Wrongness of the car, then back to me, and i could see him imagining the last ten minutes from my pov: getting broken up with, backing into a car, having to walk up to your exes door and borrow a phone, calling my dad to tell him that i just reversed into someone.
and his expression shifted from stern and apologetic to truly sad, which felt more kind that i deserved. things only got here because i kept fucking up - forgot to look behind me, forgot to replace the insurance forms, forgot to charge my phone. it was my mess, but his sympathy meant the world to me. i probably would’ve cried if he said sorry, or patted me on the back or called me sport, but instead he said
stay out here – i’ll bring you a phone.
and then he left.
i found a nice spot on the lawn in the shade under a sycamore, then settled into his grass.i was trying not to freak out, and was doing an okay job. he came out a minute or so later, not just with a phone, but a juicebox and a jar of green olives, which really threw a wrench in the whole try not to cry thing. soon as i saw those, a few tears squoze out. i was still hoping i could pass them off as Manly Tears but then he told me that he’d gotten the olives a few weeks before and had been meaning to hand them off to me, and that this was his last chance for that. then i made a sound like a horse drowning in a bog, and he patted my back pretty rough, four solid thumps, like he wasn't sure if i was crying or choking on an olive, and was trying to cover both bases at once.
then he went back inside, and i made a few more bog horse noises while finishing off the rest of the entire jar of green olives, and then i called my dad.
he was about ten minutes away that day, and luckily was home. he drove over, and we went to the neighbor’s house, and from there things actually went quite nice. the neighbor was a retired man who actually said he could fix the dent himself, no need for insurance. he said he appreciated that i didn't just drive off, and i said i was really sorry about his car, and he said he was really sorry about my car, and then he gestured to the chickenshitmobile and i laughed because it really was a disaster on wheels.
then we left.
i thought we were going to head straight home, but instead we went to a gas station, and we both got several slim jims that we folded into thick enough coils that we could put them on a hotdog bun because the growing up mormon equivalent of having a sad brewski with your dad is just choosing to make bad decisions sober. then he took me to the canals and we watched the sun turn all orange and pink, and he looked over at me and said:
brains are good at remembering bad days. so you gotta make sure that a bad day has a good part in it, so you can remember that too. remember that when you have a kid. try to do a good job on days like that - they're going to be a big part of how they remember you.
and then he gave me a big hug and said he was never going to eat another slim jim again.
---
the year after that i went to college, which kicked my butt in new and exciting ways. and on a lot of those bad days, after a test that went sour, or a faux paus that was particularly embarrassing, or some other hardship of my new adult life, i’d stop by the gas station and pick up leathery, half jerkied hotdog before heading to the canals to watch the sun set. i’d take a bite and imagine my dad next to me, grimacing through the slim-jim wad, asking what good thing i was going use that time to remember.
Oh, sure. You slither down ONE wall like a lizard, and suddenly your new friend (the same friend you JUST invited to stay in your house for a MONTH!) starts calling you "a creature in the semblance of a man." Smh.
the thing is that childhood doesn't just end when you turn 18 or when you turn 21. it's going to end dozens of times over. your childhood pet will die. actors you loved in movies you watched as a kid will die. your grandparents will die, and then your parents will die. it's going to end dozens and dozens of times and all you can do is let it. all you can do is stand in the middle of the grocery store and stare at freezers full of microwave pizza because you've suddenly been seized by the memory of what it felt like to have a pizza party on the last day of school before summer break. which is another ending in and of itself
the world's smallest carnivore is called the "least weasel" 😭😭 i'm dying but like if it's the smallest carnivore then it sure is the least amount of weasel you can have 😭😭😭
This is from 1966 and you can see over a hundred photos on the NYPL digital collections website. It is absolutely gorgeous. These are just a few of my favourites.
*through gritted teeth* the world is GOOD. people are kind. Humans are NOT inheritly selfish. you will make it through this year. recovery is possible. people you don't know yet will love you. You are going to do things you can't even imagine right now. You are going to read a rlly good book. You are going to eat some rlly good food. You are going to experience joy again. Things can get better. Situations can change. You can choose to be kinder. The world can change for the better.
I think one of the best things I've learned since getting into fiber arts is that something can be absolutely not my taste and I can still be impressed and delighted for the person who made it and people who love it. Almost every time I look through patterns or projects, I have a thought like, "I hate that and it's magnificent" or, "I wouldn't wear that, but HOLY CRAP it's amazing that you made it."
Get enough sleep get enough fiber get enough iron wear sunscreen every moment of every day dont get dehydrated don’t slouch brush perfectly floss too keep your tires full of air get your oil changed check your brakes and alignment get new tires get your yearly inspection get your yearly pelvic exam remember your flu and covid shot research the candidates for district attorney take your recycling to the curb on the right day try to limit red meat, alcohol, ultra processed food, sugar and sitting down don’t use screens before bed exercise constantly you’re not socializing or being touched enough meditate daily make sure your clothes are constantly acceptable wash your hair before there’s even a hint of grease don’t have any unsightly hair anywhere don’t drink foo much coffee or sugary drinks or carbonated drinks or anything with citric acid or your teeth will rot change your sheets every few days and your pillowcases daily and you should be also throwing out your pillows every year or two apparently don’t use any kind of cutting board due to the unique drawbacks of each available kind walk 15 min after every meal don’t eat right after brushing but also don’t brush thirty minutes after eating yet somehow brush your teeth every morning and be on time for work also and make sure you’re weight training and make sure you’re doing everything you can to prevent eventual osteoporosis and arthritis moisturize your skin every day keep your prescriptions filled try to avoid being stressed at all costs because it’s the silent killer prioritize your mental health but don’t let any of these habits slip and don’t lose your important documents and keep the batteries in your carbon monoxide detector fresh and deep clean your fridge often and clean your entire house often and exchange pleasantries with every acquaintance and keep yourself polished and presentable at work and stretch before bed every night and buy new kitchen sponges when they wear out and make sure you have laundry detergent and dish soap and olive oil and only eat healthy fats and make sure you’re doing everything to prevent the skyrocketing rates of colon cancer in young people and soak all your berries so that they actually get clean and wash all your produce and buy organic so you aren’t ingesting four million pesticides and avoid animal products but also eat a lot of lean meat and dairy for the protein and eat 30g of protein at every meal and prioritize whole grains and complex carbohydrates and moderate your sugar intake and replace your toothbrush every six months and your running shows every 90 miles clean your car out often and make sure no one smashes your tail light in the parking lot and keep a printout of your up to date proof of insurance in your glovebox even if you don’t own a printer and put a sizeable portion of each paycheck into retirement portfolio replace your windshield wipers and close your kitchen down every night and eat two servings of dark leafy greens per day and do all of this and still get enough rest so that you’re able to give the 40 hour workweek your all. And if you fail to do any of these things you’re a disgusting failure slob
guess who has two thumbs, found a load of vintage buttons in their garage, and has absolutely no respect for the list of projects they should have been working on? this guyyyyyy
I have been lusting after this coat from the very first second I saw it, so the chance to make it falling into my lap was honestly a dream come true. Everything was stash except the beads and the jacket itself (what, you guys don't have 10m of gold pleather just sat around ready to go?)
I wasn't going for a perfect recreation, but I tried to stay true to the vision of the original, using the images the costume designer posted to make my templates and draw my construction ideas from- I had a genuine revelation when I saw the big stitches securing the patch in place for the first time!
I'm not 100% happy with some of the details- I feel like the claws are too silver for the rest of the colour palette, some of the paint has flaked where I glued the buttons before sewing (yes, every single button is sewn on!), and I did the actual positioning on the jacket in a bit of a rush, so one day I might go back and change some things, but those are only details I would notice & I still think it lookings so cool even when it's not perfect.
just... I fucking made that, you guys !!!
Process under the cut, if you want to know more about the how & why <3
So! I started off by making a template from the original design, and using that to stencil on the shape in leather paint- I tried to keep the layers thin so it wasn't too vibrant, and the gold shows through in slight places
(on the note of my fabric- I think the original is more likely a satin, or some other kind of fabric in a champagne-y colour- it definitely has a shine to it, but you can see it fraying on the images- but I had the pleather to hand, and I thought it would be more durable than a fabric, so I went with this instead)
Once the template was painted, I made a second template to mark out the lines. I did a lot of experimenting with couching until I got a result I liked... actually can I tell you guys a secret?
I completely restarted this project at one point because I didn't like how the wool I'd picked looked with the paint. It was too black, too thick, and I couldn't get any size variation with the lines. I already wasn't 100% about the size I'd started my first one at, so I made a new stencil and just completely started over with about 4 days notice till my soft deadline....
The new couching is done with a thread/cord I had lying about, and each line uses between 1-4 strands to get some size variations. Some of them also add in a piece as they radiate outwards to add dimension. It was a real labour, especially with all the switchbacks (each line took between 3-5 minutes to do) but it came out exactly as I wanted, so it was worth it to me!
heres the wool vs cord! theres a cord one at the bottom of the left too, which I think shows the difference in the blacks the best. Its really subtle, but theres less intensity too it, and it looks so much better to me
I made the claw pieces by moulding them from polymorph and then painting them, first in black, then silver. These pictures are from the first set I made, because... yeah, I remade these too! This was my first time doing something like this, and I had so much fun. They are just glued on with E6000, which didn't bond as well as I would like, but I couldn't figure out a better way to attach them at this stage. Maybe I'll try embedding a jump ring or something into them as I mould them next time.
The buttons were all positioned with PVA glue and then sewn through with really rough stitches of doubled strong thread. Since they're all completely non-functional, I just trailed the thread between them as though it was embroidery. I think the back looks really cool too, getting to see all the squiggly paths I went on.
The only thing I bought specifically for this project was 4mm red bicone beads and oh man, am I so happy I did. The original uses pearl shapes I think, but I just love the way these catch the light. This was really my first time beading, so it's not perfect, but I'm really happy with the results! My goal was to have every bead going its own direction so they would catch the light at different times, and the payoff is just so beautiful. I also used these for the little blood drops off the claws.
As it is Passover again, it is time for the annual debate as to whether the frog plague, which thanks to a quirk in the Hebrew, is written as a plague of frog, singular, rather than the plural, plague of frogs, was in fact, as generally imagined, a plague of many frogs, or instead a singular giant Kaiju frog. This is an ancient and venerable argument that actually goes back to the Talmud because this is what the Jewish people are. If we can't argue for fun about this sort of thing, what are we even doing.
In that spirit, I would like to submit a third possibility, which is that in fact it was one perfectly normal sized frog, who was absolutely acing Untitled Frog Game: Ancient Egypt Edition. One particularly obnoxious frog, who through sheer hard work, managed to plague all of Egypt.
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