Visions of Sugarplums

I love this phrase. I love thinking about my children lying there with visions of Christmas joy. I know they don't even know what sugarplums are (do I?), but I do remember being a kid and how excited I could get just thinking about Christmas morning.

I've got cookies on the brain since I am posting about Christmas cookies tomorrow in the Show Us Your Life Series. Gingerbread men are just the cutest - and they smell and taste pretty good, too.

Dots, Dots, and More Dots

Sweet Shelby Love ordered a canvas for her room at the Autumn Street Fair. I am just now getting it to her! When I say that Shelby ordered it, I mean Shelby (not her mom) ordered it. This little girl knows what she wants. She designed the whole thing, knew what needed to be which color, and even picked the font. Her mom says she is like that about everything. I can relate.

Thank you, Shelby! It turned out really cute!

The bottom two are for Andrea Freeze. She ordered them as Christmas gifts for her nieces. She sent me photos of their rooms and bedding. I think they will match well. What a cool aunt!

Yet Another Good Example of Why I Shouldn't Blog at 2:30 in the Morning

Boyfriend and I watched a movie tonight and the movie had Michael Cera in it.  During the movie, Boyfriend said "You totally have a crush on Michael Cera..." and I was like "Yeah."

Two hours later:

Boyfriend:  "On a scale of one to ten, how much do you love me?"

Me:  "Eleven million."

Boyfriend:  "On a scale of one to ten, how much do you love Michael Cera?"

Me:  "Nine."

Boyfriend:  "That's not a big gap."

Me:  "Yeah.  Especially not when you factor in how long I've known you versus how long I've known Michael Cera.  Are you jealous?"

Boyfriend:  "No."

Me:  "What if I was like 'I want to bone Michael Cera'?"

Boyfriend:  "I wouldn't take you very seriously because you can't even say it with a straight face."

And then I looked Boyfriend straight in the face and without even a whisper of a smile I said "I want to bone Michael Cera." And then Boyfriend asked me if I was thinking about dead kittens because I usually think about dead kittens when I'm trying to keep a straight face, and I was all "Yeah"and Boyfriend was like "So you just said 'I want to bone Michael Cera' while you were thinking about dead kittens?"

And yes.  Yes I did.

Anyway, I have found that matters of the heart are best solved with statistics.  If I truly hope to figure out whether I like Boyfriend or Michael Cera better, I'm going to have to crunch some numbers.

Figures and Charts:

Figure 1:

After careful analysis, it looks like Boyfriend wins 4 to 3.   Unless he turns out to be a rapist.  But if Boyfriend and Michael Cera both turn out to be rapists, Boyfriend still wins.

Figure 2:

It still appears that Boyfriend has a slight lead over Michael Cera and the trend would indicate that my affection for Boyfriend will continue to stay high while my affection for Michael Cera is mostly dependent on whether or not I've recently seen a movie that he was in.

But how do Boyfriend and Micheal Cera fair when compared to all of the other things I love?

Figure 3:

It still appears that Boyfriend beats Micheal Cera by a slim margin and he beats that one part in "Midnight Train" by an even slimmer margin.  In fact, the chart would indicate that when "Midnight Train" is combined with my favorite part of "Midnight Train," the resulting section takes up over 35% of  my capacity for love.

Well, I'm going to try to go to bed because being nocturnal doesn't appear to be good for my blog.  Also, Boyfriend went to bed about an hour ago and he was like "I'm going to bed."  And then I was like "I'm going to google Michael Cera" and Boyfriend was like "I doubt Michael Cera will protect you from the orcs in the meth-cellar..." which is probably true.

P.S.  Okay FINE, Technorati, here are your precious numbers:  TJ3VMN5RS9YE  

THEY WERE IN MY ROOM THE WHOLE TIME!!!!!!!

Oh my God, you guys:

=

(If you were confused by that picture and/or didn't recognize it, go HERE first.)

How did I not see it before?  (tilt screen back a little when you are looking at the first picture... those are 100% genuine ice-monsters)

Also, I want to thank you guys for so many reasons not the least of which includes alerting me to the existence of ice monsters and pointing out that yeah, maybe I should have looked behind me while I was flipping off my window.

If it was not for you guys, I would have never known that there are ceramic space heaters that DON'T SET THINGS ON FIRE, or that there are plastic sheets that you can melt onto your windows with a hair dryer and then your house will be warmer.   Or that there are probably already rapists and murderers hiding in my room and I'm going to die anyway so why not just sleep in the meth-cellar?  Or that I can use toothpaste to blind the rapists and murderers that are hiding in my room and/or meth-cellar when/if they attack me so I'm pretty much invincible.  Or that, duh, I should use Bruce to stay warm because there's nothing quite as thermally protective as a Snuggie-dragon.  Or that all orcs are rapist-cannibals who also hunger for human flesh, not just the orcs that live in my basement.  Or that there are some places in the world where it is 60 degrees right now and maybe if I ask nice enough I can come visit.

Oh, and I didn't choose to live in Montana, per se.  It just kind of happened.  Like diabetes or getting involved in a game of Risk.

UPDATE:  Okay Sarah P, I'm putting ads in my feed.  And maybe I'll put AdSense on this blog for a few days just to see what kind of targeted ads it comes up with.  I guarantee that there will be some ads for hentai if ads for hentai exist.

UPDATE #2: This is yet another good example of why I love you guys:

Comment from CWD:

"I have been thinking about your Ice Monster Problem, or IMP as I like to think of it. The best solution to you IMP is a homemade flamethrower !

I know you are on a budget so I found a recipe for a $30 homemade flamethrower. It has two major advantages:

1. It’s cheap

2. It is as reliable as a $30 homemade flamethrower. I don’t see a downside.

There are some do’s and don’t’s (see how I had me some fun there at Mr. Apostrophe’s expense?) I think you should consider when operating your $30 homemade flamethrower when dealing with your IMP. Here they are:

DO: wear Bruce so the IM’s (and Orcs! can’t forget them) know you’re serious.

DON’T: ever ever ever say “hey, watch this!” before firing your flamethrower. Saying “hey, watch this!” the most common cause of death or high temperature traumatic exfoliation known to science, this is followed closely by “here, hold my beer”.

DON’T: target IM’s already inside your house, unless, and this is important, you have a bottle of cheap whiskey and a sombrero. See: final scene of John Carpenter’s “The Thing”.

DON’T: for the love of all that is holy watch any of John Carpenter’s “The Thing” but that last scene! Consider the last scene scientific research. This is for your protection, Allie. The Alien DNA stealing touch monsters will horrify you. Based on your reaction to LOTR, you will never willing touch another living thing after viewing JC’s “The Thing”.

DON’T: target Orcs except under controlled conditions. While it’s been my experience that while IM’s get all moan-y and melt-y when hit with a $30 homemade flamethrower, Orcs tend to get scream-y and run-y. They may spread fire in an uncontrolled manner. Once again the cheap whiskey and sombrero exemption applies.

On reviewing this list I am surprised to note that I can only think of one “do” and four “don’t’s” (suck it Mr. Apostrophe! I snicker meanly at you!) to consider when using a $30 homemade flamethrower.

Allie, keep in mind that I usually don’t offer weapons or defense advice, I normally consider it rather psychotic and even a little sad, but you sound as if you have a serious IMP on your hands and I care. Please be safe when using your $30 homemade flamethrower.

Best regards,

CWD"

This almost makes me feel normal. Until I realize that I just Googled "How to make a flame-thrower for under $10" because I don't really have $30 and then I was all disappointed when I couldn't find anything within my price range because PVC pipe is fucking expensive, especially when you have to line it with molten lead.

Boy's Bathroom

Another wonderful customer, Rachel Harvey of Athens, Georgia, ordered all of these sweet little 5x5's to compliment what she already has in her son's bathroom. You regular readers will remember her duck canvases. If not, click here!

This one is for the doorknob. How cute!

Thanks so much, Rachel and Weston!

Boyfriend Would be a Headless, Dignity-less Torso Without Me and That's a Really Disturbing Title Now That it's 3:00 AM

I may have mentioned that I am nocturnal now.  I go to bed sometime around 5:00 AM and I wake up at noon.  I do this because I am afraid of being murdered in my sleep by a fugitive or an orc.

I should probably explain a little better.  Remember how I live in Montana?  And remember how montana is really cold?  And remember how I can't afford to buy heat?

Anyway, Boyfriend and I are not prehistoric bear-people and we probably are going to die.  We have been confined to our living room for three days now because it is the only room in the house that is warm enough for survival.

We covered all the doorways with another layer of quilts and wool blankets and we drew the blinds to block out a little bit of the cold that radiates from the window panes.  Then we set up camp on the living room floor, rented all three Lord of the Rings DVD's and fought over who got to sit on the electric heating pad.  I won because I'm a fucking survivor.

Our plan was to watch movies and never leave the living room.  That sounded great until I realized that it meant I would have to sleep in the living room and not in my "panic room" and there was probably a fugitive or an orc hiding somewhere in the house and if I actually went to sleep it would come out and kill me and then I'd be like "I wish I would have slept in the panic room.  It was a reckless decision to sleep in the living room" but it would be too late because I would be dead already and I should have thought of that before I let down my guard and slept in the living room.

I kept quiet until around 1:00 AM.  That was about when we finished the Lord of the Rings DVD's and then I started thinking "Shit.  What if orcs are real?  There's probably one in the meth-cellar right now..." and at first I was just like "pshh, don't be silly..." but the more I thought about it the more legitimate it seemed and pretty soon I was almost positive that there was either an orc or a rapist or possibly an orc-rapist laying in wait in the darkness under my kitchen floor and I said "We should go upstairs..." because I really, really wanted to be in my panic room but Boyfriend didn't respond because he was already asleep and that made me feel even more alone and terrified of whatever was in the meth-cellar, so I tried to wake him up by jabbing him in the ribs but he just made a little sputtering noise and rolled over.  I kept trying.

Me:  "Hey!  Wake up.  Wake up.  Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up..."

Boyfriend:  "Hszzmmuh? What are they?"

Me: "What?"

Boyfriend:  "What should we call them?"

Me:  "The orcs?"

Boyfriend: (Silence punctuated only by a creepy smile)

Me: "What are you talking about?"

Boyfriend: "Uh-huh."

Me:  "Are you asleep?"

Boyfriend "No..."

Me: "Then what were you talking about?"

Boyfriend: "I don't know."

Me: "You are definitely asleep."

Boyfriend:  (indignantly) "No I'm not!"

At this point Boyfriend tried to look at me to prove that he was awake but he wasn't actually awake and his eyes were kind of rolled back in his head and he was smiling like Jack Nicholson in "The Shining" and it just made me want to be in my safe room even more so I said "WAKE UP!!!" and it came out way louder than I expected because I was starting to panic and then Boyfriend actually did wake up and he started to panic because I was panicking and he was like "What??  What's going on?  Are you okay?" And I was like "I want to go to bed!"  and Boyfriend said that we were already in bed but then I told him about how I changed my mind and I didn't want to sleep in the living room anymore because it was too close to the meth-cellar and Boyfriend said "well, we definitely aren't going to sleep upstairs" because Boyfriend is a huge vagina and he can't sleep when he's "shivering and probably almost dead."

I definitely didn't want to be locked in my panic room all by myself, so I decided that I was going to try sleeping in the living room but that didn't work and I just ended up staying up all night being vigilant.

At around 4:00 AM Boyfriend woke up and he was like "have you been awake this whole time?" and I was all "yeah" and then he finally felt sorry for me and agreed to go upstairs and sleep in the safe room with me but he ruined it by acting all cold and miserable and I felt bad but I still judged him for not being a survivor like me.  I finally fell asleep around 5:00 AM when Boyfriend stopped shivering so violently because he was either dead or in such a late stage of hypothermia that he had started to feel warm again.

I woke up again at around 8:00 AM because I heard a loud crashing sound downstairs and it was probably a rapist and I started to congratulate myself for being smart enough to sleep behind a locked and barricaded door but then I noticed that the door was not locked or barricaded and Boyfriend was gone.

I went downstairs because I figured that Boyfriend was probably lost or something, but no.  He was sitting on the couch drinking coffee and playing computer games.  I said "You abandoned me."

Boyfriend: "It was too cold upstairs."

Me:  "So you just left me all by myself in an unlocked room?"

Boyfriend:  "I was down here on the couch the whole time."

Me:  "What if there was a murderer in the spare bedroom and he snuck into our room and killed me before you could run up the stairs and save me?"

Boyfriend:  "That wouldn't happen."

Me:  "You sound so sure of your ability to get there in time."

Boyfriend:  "No, I mean there is not a murderer in the spare bedroom."

Me:  "But what if there was?"

Boyfriend:  "There isn't."

Me:  "You don't know that."

Boyfriend:  "Yes I do."

Me:  "I suppose you also 'know' that there are no orcs or rapists in the meth-cellar?"

Boyfriend: "Yes.  Yes I do know that."

Me: "I'm never going to sleep again."

It turns out that that's a pretty empty threat.  I usually make it until 4:00 or 5:00 AM and then my eyelids get too heavy and I fall asleep for a few minutes only to awaken in a panic because I let down my guard and I am sure that I'm about to die and I open my eyes and everything is just shapes and darkness and I'm almost positive that I see an orc lurking in the corner so I fumble for the light-switch but I can't find it fast enough and I get that all-encompassing tingly feeling that starts at the base of my spine and spreads outward until I am absolutely positive that I will be attacked at any second and I NEED LIGHT RIGHT FUCKING NOW!!!!! and then I finally find the light-switch and the light comes on and I see that no, it wasn't an orc, just a table, and I am flooded with humiliation and relief.  That adrenaline spike is usually good for another 15 minutes of intense vigilance, but I inevitably fall asleep again and end up repeating the whole process until Boyfriend wakes up to go to work or tricks me into falling asleep in my panic room so he can sneak out and leave me for dead since he's so sure there aren't any murderers in the spare bedroom.  It's like he's never even seen a horror movie.  Murderers are fucking everywhere and if you leave your bedroom door unlocked, sometime during the night the camera will zoom-in on your doorknob and the doorknob will turn slowly and guess what?  There's a serial killer or a zombie or a rapist on the other side and now you're dead because you were so sure that there wasn't anything in the spare bedroom.  But I'm too smart to fall for that because I'm a survivor and Boyfriend is more like the guy who goes to check on the weird noise and pretty soon he's just a headless torso with the words "YOU'RE NEXT" scrawled across its chest and then it turns into a media frenzy and I have to frame the story to preserve Boyfriend's dignity because otherwise he'd just look retarded for dying like that when his death was so clearly preventable with a little bit of common sense.

I'm pretty much the only reason he's still alive.

UPDATE:  I am still up at 3:00 AM partly because I'm scared to go to sleep in the living room and also because I wanted to get a screenshot of this:

I could go outside right now and spit on the ground and it would freeze within seconds and then I could spit on top of the spit and it would also freeze and I could keep doing that until I made a tower of frozen spit.  Like a sand castle.  Kind of.

UPDATE #2:  And that's why I shouldn't post at 3:00 AM.  I end up writing about spit-towers.  And then writing about how I wrote about spit-towers.

Wesley's Gift

My friend and wonderful customer, Wesley Hillis, ordered this canvas as a gift. She sent me this picture of the bedding to coordinate the colors. She didn't want it matchy-matchy, but rather dots and stripes in complimentary colors.

This matches the car bedding, but would also go with lots of other things. If Colton's mom changes the room, the painting can still be used. I like all of these colors with the brown.

Wesley has such good taste and always has the cutest ideas. I am always thrilled to work with her.