Wild Things

Dear Internets*,

I am sorry I haven't been around much these past few months. You should know that I think of you well and often.

Since May, I have started a new job walking distance from my house (YAY!) - sometimes duties include wrapping coworkers in aluminum foil (YAY!) - and trying not to be too self aware as I work with a bunch of awesome, brilliant twenty-teen-year-olds (hmmmm...)

As Halloween is rapidly approaching, I have provided you with a sneak preview of my costume (pictured above). What is it, you ask? Here's a hint. I am not the best sew-maker, so I am super proud of myself for buying brown bear fur fabric and turning it into something that looks like a bear head hat! The fact that I look pasty and insane in the photo should not detract from my handiwork.

In related news, I saw Where the Wild Things Are yesterday, and I may be dragging Curt to see it again tonight. It was That Good. I don't care what anyone says about all the hand held cameras and running through the woods, and it not being for kids - it was great. Period.

Insert rant here about how children's stories too often provide glib postulates correlating suffering, dreams, expectations, happiness and love - see film version of Coraline. But Wild Dings don' do dat. There was some amazing line in the movie that I can't remember exactly but the gist was, "Happiness is not a good way to become happy." Which is true! Right? Hmmm.

After the movie, I went thriftin' with Nic S. We found lots of great stuff, thusly maintaining my habit of spending way too much time getting dressed in the morning. A habit which has worsened since my recent fascination with the coolest thirteen year old in the world.

Then, Nic and I have settled on a plan for some kind of strange collaborative creative whip cracking. Stay tuned for updates on this new project.

So that's that. I am not going to promise to write more often, or to be at all interesting or entertaining when I do write, because I know our tenuous relationship couldn't handle the disappointment. Just know that "I'll eat you up I love you so"

Love,

Bloppy Vernisabeth Crawtula

*By "internets" I mean all four of my readers: Nicole, Alicia, Curt, and that random person who left the hateful comment on the Teppei Kaneuji post (if we were still living in the nineties, I would make that cat sound that people used to make back then...)