No, this isn't the usual type of exercise quandry about the size of my thighs or anything like that... this is a real quandry. Quick, without resorting to the internet or a cookbook, name a food that starts with the letter 'x' without cheating and saying 'xmas cookies'.

We just got a membership at the Y, and I was swimming laps, and to keep track, I did the alphabet. For every length, I thought of a food starting with whatever letter I was on. I was doing fine until I hit W, and had to tread water until I came up with Watermelon (come to think of it, tho, 'water' would have also worked). And then I hit 'X'. What the heck food starts with x? I mean, really. Geez.

But I did swim a hecka long way, I did A-Z foods (Apple through Zuccini bread), and then A-J animals (Antelope through Jackal). No clue what that works out to distance-wise, but I didn't stop for more than fifteen seconds at the end of any given lap, and more than half of them, I didn't stop at all. But really, I need some X foods. And for that matter, some X animals.

Also, some other topics that wouldn't be too difficult to come up with an alphabet worth. Places, possibly. If I were more medically-inclined, I'd try diseases or medications, but I don't think I can come up with enough. Colors? Sexual positions? I'd love suggestions. Swimming laps is fabulous exercise, easy on my crappy joints, relaxing, but ultimately, there's not a lot to keep my brain occupied while I'm doing it. Plus, I like to know how many laps I did.

Just bought a new snowblower today, because the old one died a horrible death. FINDING said snowblower involved a bit of time on the phone and driving around in crapulent weather, because apparently, very few places still have two stage snowblowers in stock. So... that was $600 that we really don't have. That's what emergency credit cards are for, though, right?

So, got snowblower, went to work. At work, I et a caramel. It was a tasty caramel, but there was something lumpy in it. Is that a nut, perhaps, think I? OMG no, it's my frigging CROWN. I call the dentist. It's after hours. Is it an emergency, the phone operator person asks. Well, no, says I, I'm not bleeding from my ears, but I'm holding my crown in my hand and it kinda hurts if I breathe through my mouth and the air hits my tooth. The dentist's office is open tomorrow at 7am, says she, and I can call for an appointment. Or I can talk with the on-call dentist if I feel that it's an emergency. I got some toothache stuff on the way home from work, and when I put it on it hurts like hell. *sigh* Did I mention that dentists are like my worst phobia? Ever since I went in to get all four wisdom teeth yanked out in one sitting (it actually wasn't all that bad, all things considered), I get panic attacks when I'm in for anything other than a routine cleaning. So I'm sitting and having a nice pre-emptive panic attack right now. I also got a 'recapit no mix cement' for repairing loose caps and crowns, but frankly, I'm way too freaked out to even try it. I hate mouth pain. I just want to cry right now, and honestly, unless I forget and take a deep breath through my mouth, it doesn't hurt, but I'm just astoundingly tense right now and even though I can tell myself over and over that it's going to be fine and it's stupid to be freaking out about a dental visit and they're probably just going to dab on some glue, stick the crown back on, pat me on the head, and send me on my way, I'm still practically shaking. What a stupid phobia to have.

So what I want to know is: trouble comes in threes. What's the third thing going to be?

Fairly certain that we're not driving up to the folks' house tomorrow, but then, we'd pretty much decided that based on weather, we were going to wait until Christmas Day anyway.

So, apparently, I really need to not read heavy military science fiction before I go to sleep. Since today is the first Saturday in eight months that I haven't had to get up early for Farmer's Market or a show, I decided to relax last night by reading a book before bed. Well, my typical version of staying up late and reading is fluffy romance-type books, which I have no problem reading and putting down and getting a fine night's sleep. Well, last night, I decided to re-read 'Cobra' by Timothy Zahn. Fairly good book, but a bit heavier than my normal nighttime fodder. So, I totally blame the author for what happened last night.
 
Chris and I were fighting a rebellion on some other planet. I'm not sure which one, because the name was kept secret so the invaders wouldn't find out. Chris was off on a mission to protect a boxful of the rebels, because people kept trying to eat them because they looked like big gummy rocks. So he's off in some secretly named forest valiantly carrying around a cardboard box full to the brim of gummy rocks (they bounce up and down a little and squeak occasionally so you know they're actually living, sentient rebel gummy rocks, and not snackfood) and trying not to cave into the urge to snack upon them. Meanwhile, I'm in our house, which isn't this one, but is rather more like my great aunt's sprawling old farmhouse. With random decrepit rooms popping up here and there where they shouldn't be, so I need to keep exploring it to make sure the rooms all stay where they're supposed to be. Also, it's kind of a secret that I'm there because hello... fighting a rebellion on an alien planet? Need to stay relatively low key? Right. So I open the door off of the kitchen and there's this big ugly concrete mudroom. Which is full of large growing plants. Kind of alien squash and tomatoes, none of them staked up properly because no one's been in the garden since it was planted. I look around and notice that the crop is almost ready, and I spend my time checking out the bright purple tomatoes and the lime green squashes, frowning a bit at the weeds, but suitably impressed that the garden has grown up all by itself without me to tend it. Which is really too bad, because I like tending gardens, but since Chris didn't tell me that he'd actually gotten around to putting in the sprinkler system and the automatic floodlights to make the garden start growing, and I didn't know that this room was even attached to my house until it was time to do the harvest, I didn't get out there to weed at all. Some of the weeds were pretty big, too. So I'm wandering around the garden to see what will need to be picked first, and trying to figure out which are the tasty alien squash and which are the mutated alien zucchini (blech), when I notice that Chris apparently left a window cracked slightly open when he was setting up the garden. Not too surprising, because I remembered that when he built it, it was warm weather, and now it was distinctly cold and rainy, but since he was off in a forest valiantly protecting the gummy rebels* it wasn't really his fault. But anyway, I was a little irked because the window had been open this whole time and since I didn't know that the garden had been turned on, so I didn't come out to check it and pull the weeds and everything, anyway, I wasn't aware that I needed to check that the window was open. So anyway, there's a cold draft over on that end of the garden. As I head over to close the window, I suddenly become aware that I'm. Not. Alone. Oh. Awwwww, omg, how cyoot, it's a little chinchilla. Which is stalking me to protect his vegetables. And why are his teeth all... pointy? And look, there's 800 of his closest friends coming in through the window that Chris Left Open. And as they get closer, they're getting bigger and more ratty-looking, with much pointier teeth. Kinda like Gambian pouch rats, only with long fluffy hair. So I flee, slam the kitchen door shut behind me, grab the phone, and dial 911. Now, I can hear them thumping against the old wooden door, and I know that very soon, they'll pile enough of them up against the door to reach the really old window in the door that's really not set in very well at all because the wood rot has really set in and I can see the door moulding kinda peeling away.
 
And just as I get finished dialing 911, my sister picks up on call waiting, and wants to know which garden tools she should bring over to help me with the harvest. Now, I appreciate it, but... ravening mutant chinchillapouchrat things battering down my kitchen door, right? Sister informs me that it's fine, she can hear the 911 operator, who is still talking (but apparently can't hear us), so the operator is just saying 'hello? hello? What seems to be your emergency?' and should she bring the trowel or the three pronged thingus, and what's that three pronged thingus _called_ anyway? Oh, and she'd like to come over before her son gets home from school, so can I please make the decision on where we're going to meet for lunch? And for some reason, I am completely unable to talk to the 911 operator about the ravening mutant chinchillapouchrat things because my sister is taking up the whole entire phone line. And I can hear the scraping of little claws against the FSA100**, and I know it's not going to hold up against any amount of impact.
 
Maybe the gummy rebels will come save me.
 
 
*and I know this because I could see him perfectly in my mind's eye, sitting comfortably in the forest beside the partially empty box of gummy rebels. Wait, what? He didn't..... did he?
 
**French Semi-Antique 100, a nice artique-style clear art glass. Pretty, nice spiderwebby design, but not particularly good at withstanding attacks by ravening mutant chinchillapouchrat things. Yes, I took the time to identify exactly what type of glass was in the window as I fled through the doorway. When a coworker got a piece of glass in her eye recently and was taken to the emergency room, the doctor asked her what kind of glass it was and she replied with 'spectrum yellow rough-rolled, and there will probably be some black sharpie markings on it'. He gave her the Look, and she pointed to the work shirt she was wearing, which clearly states 'Stained Glass Studio' and asked him if he needed her to be more specific. I was just astounded that when the doc got the glass out, it still had the sharpie marks on it. Damn marks never stay in place when you're wet grinding, and yet apparently a little trip inside one's eyeball isn't moist enough to take it off, even with repeated irrigatio.... umm... sorry. Were you eating? Yah. Always wear safety glasses when working with glass, because regular prescription glasses don't have enough coverage. Her eyeball, by the bye, was completely fine, thank all the little gods.

Finally got out to the studio this morning. It's only the second time I've 'played glass' in almost a month. Gah. I so needed to get out there. I'm not even entirely sure why I wasn't getting out there, I just wasn't. Mostly sitting around the house wasting time. Literally. Just playing video games, checking email, reading books, watching movies. Basically, nothing. Still working at the Vinery part time and doing Farmer's Market, but other than that, I've just been staring. Don't know what was up with me. In any case, it's over now, or at least, I seem to be on an upward trend. Got up fairly early this morning, went out and got a full oxy tank, came home, hooked it up, made beads for an hour and a half, made and tested a couple of new frit mixes, bagged up said frit mixes to sell at the Vinery, caught up on paperwork that I needed to (show entry, paid for my seller's permit renewal), and then went swimming for 45 minutes before heading for the Vinery to work from 3 to 7. Finally, I've had a day where I actually feel like I accomplished something instead of just staring at the TV (which I also did for a half hour this morning). And, to reward my industriousness, a customer came in today and bought five of the six packets of frit I just made. Which means I need to make more. Darn. I'm hoping to do that tonight, in addition to getting in some more torch time. I really don't know why I put it off for so long. I've said over and over again that sitting down at the torch just makes me focus, makes all my stress and anxiety just go away... and yet when I get stressed and anxious, I put off going out to sit down at the torch. Go figure. I'm just self-destructive that way, I guess. Oh well. Off to make more stuff.

Also, I need to email A Room of One's Own, because they emailed me asking if I wanted to sell my goddess beads on consignment or wholesale to them like a week ago and I've been putting off replying. Tomorrow. If I take care of EVERYTHING on my to-do list today, I think my system will go into shock. But yay for companies contacting ME about stock, and also yay for possibly getting another place to sell to which'll bring in more income without me needing to be out selling. [For those of you just tuning in, if I could just work hunched over my torch 6-8 hours a day, every day, without having to stop and make jewelry and stuff and go to art shows to sell stuff and find new places to market my stuff, and work a part time job to pay for groceries, I would. I like meeting people that I sell to, Farmer's Market and ren faires are fun, but my real passion is making beads. Someone pay me a real wage to just sit and play glass all day. Please.]

By the bye, Kittelson Swim School is fairly nice to swim at. At least, it was when I went, which was in the middle of the day, when there were no classes going on and I was pretty much the only person in the pool. Lot of chlorine, which stands to reason, since they have mostly a lot of classes for kids (you do the math). So now I think I'm going to invest in a pair of swim goggles and remember to pack moisturizer and maybe conditioner for after, and I definitely need to get a cheap pair of crocs to wear around the pool and in the locker room, but for $25 a month for unlimited open swim visits, it's darned reasonable. I'd prefer to swim in a colder pool (I think it's 85 or so degrees), but that's just the Russian and Polish blood in me preferring to swim in something only slightly warmer than slush.

And that's all the update that's going to happen tonight. I want to go out and play glass some more. Or at least, I want to go get the beads that I made today and mix up some more frit.

So, it's not great secret that I don't like html. However, I'm learning to use it. I'm working on updating my website to be all purty. In order to encourage me to do this, I'm going to go fishing for compliments and ego stroking.

Example of one of the old (currently live) pages: http://www.maggscreations.com/boothsetup.html

Example of the new (not quite ready, broken links abound, but it's purty) pages: http://www.maggscreations.com/booth.html

Eventually, this will be my new home page.

Please to give feedback, mostly in the form of 'oh, you clever clever girl', rather than actual constructive criticism that would cause me to spend more hours battling html.

I'll have not packed my ring mandrel and I won't be able to make rings. Otherwise, I'm gonna sit down to a movie and make rings. *sigh* On the plus side, I might only have to make them, 'cause alyska says she'll size and tag them, if we can coordinate get-together times. Which means I'd need to make them today and tomorrow, drop them off tomorrow, and probably pick them up Thursday night. I hate making rings. I did make three beads, though. Also one boro pendant.

Have I mentioned... yah, I'm sure I have.

Stopped in at Absolutely Art today to have Megan look at my new stuff and see if she wanted any. The answer was a resounding yes, which is wonderful, because it balances out the crappiness that was Chip Falls. Don't get me wrong, I had a ball at Chip Falls, I'm very glad I'm doing it, and sales improve each week, so I know it will get better, but *sigh* didn't even make expenses this weekend. However, AbsArt totally made up for that.

Unfortunately... she bought a lot of rings. As in... 85. *sob* If I haven't said so before, I hate making rings. I really really really hate making rings. Like, with a passion. She also bought a bunch of other stuff, which is nice but... EIGHTY FIVE??!!

*sigh* I'm gonna go set up my torch, play with fire for a while, and then sit down in front of the telly and start making rings. I'm not even sure I remembered to bring back the faceted beads I bought specifically to make rings, or if they're up in Chip.

Fire first. Definitely needing fire. Possibly supper, too.

Did I mention I hate making rings?

If you're looking for something to do this weekend, it's time for the Port Washington Pirate Festival. They put on a wonderful 'do', with FREE ADMISSION. There's a real pirate ship which cruises around the port (and yes, you can get tickets to ride it!), lots of entertainment (including scantily clad belly dancers, and my favorite music group Bounding Main), land to ship battles complete with cannons, fireworks, tons of stuff for kids to do, and of course, the Thieves Marketplace, where yours truly will be vending (Maggs Creations). I have lots of piratey jewelry and other fun treasures*. It runs Friday evening, and Saturday and Sunday all day. Hope to see you there!**

http://www.portpiratefestival.com/

*The first perfectly proper piratey phrase I was going to use instead of 'fun treasures' was 'exciting booty', but I decided I should be a little more cautious in my word choice. It's a kid-oriented faire, I promise. Hee.

**Hopefully this year they won't have a tornado like last year. Still, that was a wonderful excuse for a lot of people to 'flee' into the nearby pubs. Which is also a perfectly proper piratey thing to do.

Well, I didn't accomplish even a third of the things I needed to today, and yet I was busy the whole day. How does that happen, exactly? Bought a new EZ Up tent, 'cause my old one had a hole clean through the middle of the canopy, and I've sewed it up twice already. It's more than ten years old, so it's not like it didn't give darn good service. In fact, the old one is still reasonably serviceable, the frame is completely solid, the canopy just needs to be stitched up. I'm thinking of putting the word out at Market tomorrow to see if any of the other artists might want it. Alternatively, anyone on here want to speak for it?

Then Chris and I went out to lunch at the Dardanelles, which is a phenomenally wonderful restaurant, and somehow they managed to lose our order, so we sat for an extra long while until the server realized that omg, their food should have been up a while ago. He went to the manager, who quickly whipped up a wonderful salad-y thing and brought it to the table with an apology, but we weren't actually in a hurry, so it was no big deal. Food came, and was fabulous as usual, and then I went to use Chris's grinders to edit a whole ton of cabs.

Time passes.

More time passes.

Grad student walks by, gets an explanation of what I'm doing and says 'Oh, I could never do that, if I spent that long doing something like that, I'd dream about it all night long.'

More time passes. Chris swings by to replace my grinding pad for a new one.

More time passes*. I grind off three fingernails and grind through more layers of skin than I should in several places. Chris replaces the grinding pad again while I poke at my fingers to confirm that yes, they're bleeding.

More time passes. Chris replaces the grinding pad again, and sits down at the grinder next to me, since his work day is officially done.

Almost four solid hours were spent grinding today. During that time, I got up twice to have a mochi green tea ice cream ball, and otherwise, just sat in front of the grinder, humming to myself. I hate grinding. The truly sad part is that it went way way faster using Chris's grinders than the little one I have at home. On the plus side, I have lots of cabs ready to be channeled and fire polished and wrapped. On the minus side, eight of my ten fingers are now super-sensitive or bleeding because I have no skin left. On the plus side, I could rob a bank and not leave fingerprints. Minus side... ow. Plus side, now I can dream about grinding pendants, instead of lying awake fretting about needing to grind pendants.

Didn't get anything else accomplished.

Need to make a pair of earrings that a nice lady ordered three weeks ago, paid for, paid extra for me to ship them, and I haven't made them yet. I'm a bad person.
Need to take pictures of stuff for final approval for Chippewa Falls renfaire.
Need to call Port Washington Pirate Festival and make sure that my booth will, indeed, have power, even though it's not pictured on the map as being in a spot with electricity.
Need to make more beads to replace the ones that have sold on consignment.
Need to make more pendants to sell at market.
Need to make more dragons and dragon claws for the faire.
Need to clean and set beads for consignment.
Need to find a minion who loves me who works for cheap.
Need to make more earrings.
Need to plant potatoes.
Need to put together a care package for someone and ship it.
Need to figure out more displays for Chip Falls.

Anyone want to minion for me? Please? You don't even have to love me, but the working for cheap part is really a must.

*To be honest, though, repetitive tasks are like zen, I just turn off my brain and put my fingers on automatic, and time passes without me realizing it. At least, for the first three hours. After that, everything. slows. down. a. lot.

So, this evening's soundtrack was 'pedal pedal pedal whirrrrrrrrrrrrr gigglechortleheeheeheehee pedal pedal pedal whirrrrrrrrrrrrrr gigglechortleheeheeheeheehee'.

I think I really freaked out a late night dog walker.

Thanks to revchris for assembling it. Tomorrow I take it to budget bicycles to show it off and have the derailleurs adjusted, and then a bicycle commuting I shall go! Possibly I'll even post pictures. Or maybe have Chris take a video. I'll have to get my camera back from snakewyfe, tho, 'cause the one she's borrowing gets much better sound quality. If, of course, anyone wants to hear 'pedal pedal pedal whirrrrrrrrrrrr gigglethortleheeheeheehee'. Went for a short test ride, mile and a half, without pushing it, cause it's quite dark out, and with hills and lots of practicing stopping and starting, I was averaging 9.2 mph, which is reasonably much faster than my unassisted speed.

Need to remember to seriously downshift when stopping, motor likes it much better when starting from a lower gear. But just for the assist in getting started from a complete stop, the motor's worth it, waaaay less wear and tear on ye olde knee joints. It's a little louder than I'd expected, but not so loud as I'd feared, so it's all good.