ChgoRed, Girl Editor

Restoration

This weekend, we caught a break.

We all needed it.  My mom had another difficult week.  The leg is healing well, but all that forced inactivity led to pneumonia.  On Tuesday she stopped breathing and was rushed to ICU.  She spent four days there, but is now out of ICU and in a “step-down” room, something between ICU and a regular room.

Lest you get too worried, here is my mom’s description of the events: “I kinda blacked out a little for a minute, and everyone was running around all crazy, trying to get me to breathe.  I guess God spit me back out or something.”  You must admit—it’s certainly a fresh take on a near-death experience.

She’s doing a little better now.  The pneumonia seems to be on its way out, and her surgeon thinks she’s going to be strong enough to go directly to rehab, rather than a nursing facility first.  (The final decision is still pending.)

So we got a small break in the clouds.  And because I didn’t have to focus quite so much on There, I could actually spend some energy on Here, on home. 

Sadly, the Rev had to work both days.  So, Saturday morning I walked him to the train, then went to Dominick’s and bought myself two big bunches of flowers (pink spray carnations; burgundy alstromeria).  The walk home was like some crazy advertisement for “Spring! The Musical!”  It was the whole package—squirrels, people on bikes, strolling couples, crocuses poking up through the ground, soft breezes…  I came home, arranged flowers, and opened up a bunch of windows.  Then I squandered three hours on a silly craft project that still isn’t done.  Really, it was sublime. 

That night, dinner plans with friends got canceled, so we made dinner plans of our own.  They never tell you how cool it can be to date your own husband, how nice it is to walk to dinner together on a spring evening.  But it is.

Sunday, I cleaned.  Yes, there is a definite symbolic aspect to removing reminders of the past three weeks.  But it also just felt really good to clear out a bunch of crap—junk mail, old receipts, massed armies of dust bunnies—to get all of it into the trash and away. 

All this cleaning is making it harder to turn down an idea I really want to make happen.  I want to have a party.  This winter has been such a grind for us, and for our friends.  I want a hat party.  The kind of party that says, “Yes, we got through all that garbage.  We survived five months of bulky sweaters, salt-stained boots, and unflattering coats, and now we shall wear ridiculously oversized girly hats in candy colors.”  The kind of party with jazz music, iced cakes and fizzy drinks.

Maybe not this month, and maybe not this year, but next year, definitely.

What I Have Been Up To

Although I haven't been blogging, it wasn't because I was far from a computer.  A few months ago, I finally got my long-desired copy of Adobe Illustrator.  I had been doing all my greeting card designs in a 2001-era version of Photoshop LE, which is kind of like trying to drive without power steering.  You'll get somewhere, eventually, but it's going to take a lot of work to do even the simple things, and you won't necessarily want to be where you end up.

I've spent the months since figuring out how to make this program work, and Lord does it work.  It was absolutely what I needed.  More designs at the Flickr account.

Forcing My Hand

Remember the craft show I was in last November, the one that basically jumpstarted my wee teeny business? Remember how I had fun, sold cards, and wanted to do it all over again? I've spent the months since telling anyone who asked, Oh sure I'll try for a spot this year. Of course.

I got the e-mail last week.  I have until July 15 to apply for a spot in this year's show. As in, Put up? Shut up?

Uh oh.

Because I really really want to do this again (assuming I get a spot, of course). I had a good time and learned a lot, and the audience was a good match for my designs. Plus, the show is two weeks later this year, which is two weeks closer to Christmas—and my Christmas cards sold better than anything else. I have last year's designs, plus a few new ones I've roughed out but not perfected yet. If I don't apply/don't get in, I risk selling very few cards—if any—this year.

But...the show is also six weeks after the wedding. All the work to build up my depleted stock (e.g., getting cards designed, printed and packaged as well as finding a professional print shop) would need to be done either during the wedding preparations or in the six weeks after. Assuming I had the energy and the funds.

I could do it, I really think I could. But, oh Lord.  The idea of jumping from one big project into another one?  It just makes me want to curl up on the couch.  I realized last night that I've been working on two big projects—cards and wedding—since last June. Last fall the wedding work was pushed aside for the cards; this year it's been the opposite. At this point, the idea of a break holds a lot more appeal than the thought of researching local print shops or ordering more soft-fold boxes.

And if I did take a break, just give myself some time to rejuvenate, think up some new designs, and focus on Christmas, that might do me a lot more good than proving to myself that I survived some self-imposed project regimen.  Although he is in the you-can-do-it camp, I'm sure the Fiance would appreciate the break as well.

It has been suggested that I apply and see what I can do—I might not get in, and if I do but can't make it, the women in charge would understand. But I couldn't. I was so gratified to get a spot last year, and I would hate to leave Amy and Cinnamon hanging if I cancelled. It just wouldn't be fair to apply with that context.

I have until July 15 to decide. Or change my mind.

One Step Closer to World Domination

My greeting cards?  Are now in a store!

Buy them live and in person at the Blackkoffee Internet Cafe, 6560 N. Sheridan Road in Chicago.  Stop in, have some coffee, and give Aimee and Brad a hello.

(Also, there are cards for sale.  Did I mention that?)

Artwise

So I'm perusing a stationery company Website this morning and liking what I see. 

But...

If you scroll past the cards with the polka dots, you see one called the "Ellis." That design is clip art. Like, I have it in one of my clip art books at home. So why am I killing myself trying to draw flowers and whatnot with an outdated PhotoShop system (which isn't even designed for that), when I could just copy the stuff from my royalty-free clip art books right onto the cards?

Would that be wrong? Like cheating? Or just a brilliant way to finally save myself some effort?  Because it feels a little like cheating.  Just a little.

Thoughts?

January? Already?

So that was December? Some sparkles, some pretty paper, a lot of hacking coughs, and whoosh, gone?

Pretty much.

Originally, December was supposed to be the month of letting the cards sell themselves on the Web site while I went totally Martha on the house. I had a whole schedule that listed a month’s worth of Christmasy crafts and to-dos. I started out strong, shopping for Christmas CDs on Nov. 29, and then had to tell myself that perhaps they didn’t have any in stock because it was not actually December yet. I got cards printed up, started cruising the online stores, and spent a weekend making the doughs for the annual Christmas Baking Frenzy (scheduled for Dec. 10-12). That was on the 3rd.

Craft Show: The Aftermath

How was it? Baby, it was fab. As in, yesterday at lunch I had to go to the post office to ship off my second Web site order. As in, I learned so much in 7 hours that I’m still processing it all. As in, we gave away every business card I brought, got enough names to make up an actual mailing list, and sold out of both the gingerbread man and reindeer cards.

That fab.

Thursday & Friday of that weekend were pretty busy on their own, because: guests! My sister and her man were in town for a wedding (no, not mine). So there was much hanging around with them and using them as an excuse to go to really great restaurants. Sushi on Thursday and tapas on Friday--yum! Friday was also girly day for the Sis and me downtown, with much in the way of shopping and walking and eating and shopping. Plus, shopping.

Saturday, with the bro-in-law still getting over a stomach bug, The Boy, The Sis and I (plus a big container of cards and supplies and one spinner rack) squeezed into a cab and headed down to the auditorium. I was plenty nervous--at points it was like I was walking through a movie. It seemed so unreal that a year ago I could see a poster and think, "Maybe I could do that…" and now, here I was actually doing it. For someone who has, er, confidence issues; who isn't so great at talking to strangers; and who tends to forget things a lot, this was a big deal. If I only sold 5 cards I would consider the day a success, because just by walking in the door with my merchandise, I had already met every goal I had set for myself. It was a cool feeling, and a little dizzying.

I remember setting up the booth, and I remember selling stuff. Mostly I remember being dazzled by the idea that people would buy what I produced. (I know--all my friends and family assured me that people would buy them, but until you get the stuff out there, you just don't know.) The rest of the day was the fastest 6 hours ever. It felt more like 2. I tried to study everything I could--other people's displays; the way people look at greeting cards; what sells or doesn't, etc. Best seller, bar none: The gingerbread man card, which The Boy thought up and which I originally rejected as offensive to amputees. Everyone reacted to it. Surprise good seller: the reindeer card, based on a design I sent out to friends almost 10 years ago. Didn't sell at all: the cocktail notecards, which were what got me in the show in the first place. You just never know.

So it was a fast, busy, crazy six hours. The craziest moment: Talking to a woman who works at a local card store that I like very much, and who thinks her boss would looooove my cards. Slightly less crazy: talking to another boutique owner who may want to stock the gingerbread man. Note--neither of them have called me back yet. But still, to have those conversations and then turn around and see The Boy smiling at me because he had heard the whole thing and he was damned proud of me...wow.

Do they still give out props? Because total huge props go out to The Sis and The Boy, who were amazing. They helped set up the booth, handled receipts, acted like my personal boosters, and brought me drinks and food. No better troopers, I tell ya. The Boy was great--every time someone asked if I did wedding invitations, he would pipe up, "We’re doing our own!" And the Sis, with her cheerful, "She designed all of these!" to anyone who stopped by. It was lovely, and so gratifying to be supported like that. They made the day for me. It wouldn’t have been nearly as fun being there all by myself. More props also to the friends who were able to stop by. Awww, you guys. And of course to Amy and Cinnamon, who gave me a shot. If I'm lucky, maybe they'll let me back in next year. (Maybe I should put them on the Christmas cookie list.)

Because as much as I've told The Boy that "I'll be too busy with the wedding and all..." I kinda want to do it again. A lot.

Just a reminder...

...if you're in Chicago this weekend.

Cards are done, packaged, packed away.  Obligatory table banner is created.  Web site has been repeatedly fussed over. Business cards have been printed.

Am I nervous and continually checking my brain for stuff I forgot like someone with craft show-induced OCD?  Fuck yeah. 

Progress

Cardstock arrived last night. The box is big and heavy, and hasn't been opened yet. I would, but I know me and my penchant for attracting stains. Like a splotch magnet I am. This way it all stays clean and unwrinkled until printing starts this weekend.

Currently ordered and on its way to our house: One banner kit from Avery, and a whole mess of card boxes and card jackets.

The Web site went up last night. (Yes, that's my real name. Please do not stalk me.) However, when I opened it on my work computer this morning I realized that it's a little too wide. Need to fix that tonight. At this point it's not designed for taking orders (should there be any); instead, I just wanted to show people what I could do. 

And last night, The Boy told me that he really likes having a creative girlfriend. Considering that I spent Sunday afternoon stringing up Kleenex ghosts and cutting skulls out of paper plates, I was absolutely charmed.

That Was the Weekend that Was Really Nice

Bunny Bunny, Rabbit Rabbit

So we went to the movies on Sunday, the fiancé and I. Had ourselves a little date, a little afternoon out. Wallace, Gromit, popcorn, etc. High points: Adorable floaty bunnies (you’ll see), W&G, charming plot, and a pre-show short starring the penguins from Madagascar. Low point: The trailer that convinced me that Ron Howard should be barred from making any more children’s movies. Not content with the hatchet job he did on the Grinch, he’s now trashing Curious George, a character about whom I usually care very little. But even I am aggravated by scenes like "Curious George drinks a latte."

Anyway, W&G was grand. Lots of small jokes, lots of puns, and even some fun poked at the British penchant for gardening--"It’s all we’ve got!" Delightful, absolutely.

Tapas Dancing

Before that there was wonderful company, fabuloso Spanish food, and a trip to the best chocolate store in town. All in a Saturday night.

The short version is that an old college friend of the Rev was in town for business doings with her husband. We offered an excellent excuse not to eat mediocre Chinese with her co-workers, and it was high time I’d met them anyway. Lord knows, we had talked on the phone often enough. So, they were nice enough to drive in from the suburbs, and away we went. Got to Bon Bon five minutes before closing—hooray! Boyfriend offered to pay for our bag of choccies—double hooray! Also, shared free samples of the most amazing drinking chocolate ever. How amazing? I only had three ounces, but the hot chocolate I had on Sunday tasted like beach sand by comparison.

Dinner at Emilio’s was all fascinating conversation—lots of politics--and tasty smallish things on our plates. Dates wrapped in bacon. Marinated seafood. Sangria. Serrano ham with manchego. And so on. Did I mention it was lovely? Such a nice time. Here’s hoping they come back and actually stay a few days next time.

(And about the choccies…am feeling very, well, nostalgic for London lately. No other way to describe it. I did try to describe it to my mother in last week’s phone call, and thought I was doing a pretty good job, when suddenly she asked, "So have you thought any more about adoption?" It took a second for my train of thought to recover, but it did enough that I was able to tell her in all seriousness that at this point, I would be more excited about going back to London than having a baby. She was not amused.)

Card Again

Greeting card project progress—so far, so so. Most of my designs are done, although I still have one set of four notecards and two from another set that I’ve been vainly trying to finish. The cardstock itself has been ordered, and the Boy has been notified that 750 cards & envelopes will be arriving this week. Where we will put it all, I have some idea. Some. We’ll see.

I have been busying myself with rudimentary miscellaneous hoo-hah (buying packaging material, designing labels) because the Big Worry is still in the back of my head and I can’t get rid of it. Said Big Worry being that my cards, created entirely in the computer, won’t meet some standard for craftiness. Like, maybe they won’t be quite "crafty enough," and will earn me the wrath or at least sneers of people who spend their time actually *making* things—e.g, herbal soap, knitted iPod cozies, stuffed animals out of old socks, etc. And I know, crafters are hardly the sneering kind. It’s just that my cards feel less like something I made and more like something I simply designed. I keep thinking, where’s the craft? I’m not making the paper, and the computer’s really doing the printing (rather than, say, me silkscreening them all). It makes me feel like a bit of a cheat. I know I’m not, but still. Can’t quite shake it.

Now of course, I’m picturing a gang of crafters—all decked out in handmade recycled jewelry and homemade sweaters—jumping me in…except, for the beatdown they don't use fists.  They use knitted iPod cozies.