Showing posts with label new tricks. Show all posts
Showing posts with label new tricks. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Quick Sock Monster Note!

If you really, truly for serious want a sock monster, email me at missbanshee at gmail dot com for details, my precious little squirrels.

Kisses!

UPDATED!!!! Go to the Monster Photo Set on Flickr to see monsters up for adoption!

Sunday, July 20, 2008

Obsession.

It all started so innocently. A birthday present! From my dear friends Steve and Meaghan! How lovely! And this is what it looked like, and I had no idea what I was getting myself into.


Innocuous, right? Innocent. Adorable, even. So I get this book, and come up with the idea to make one, as a super seekrit special project for a specific super person. And I did, and it was awesome.


But, you see, I don't have a job right now. I'm on a "sabbatical." Or a "medical leave." Or, "batshit crazy timez." So I have a lot of free time. A LOT of free time. So I thought well, I'll try another one of the patterns. I have plenty of socks, as they are only a dollar at Walmart, so...Why not? And I did, and it was good.

So what's the problem that is now destroying my life? I'll tell you. Behold!


The first step is admitting you have a problem, and that you are powerless over your addiction. So...Hi. My name is Miss Banshee, and I am addicted to making sock monsters. My house is full of 'em. My couch is covered in sock bits and thread. The cats scurry off with mouthfuls of yarn and stuffing. It's an arts and crafts crack house. And I can't stop. Is there a 12 step program for this? A Big Book for sewing addiction? Because I clearly need help.


So...anyone want a sock monster? They're looking for good homes, and if I don't get them out of my house, they're just going to keep harassing me to make them new friends. Halp.

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

I Am Officially Special.



Hot diggitty! I am now writing for MamaPop, your one-stop snarkfest on pop culture! All the ladies who write there are fabbity fab, and now you can catch my articles on Wednesdays and Thursdays, as well as on the Project Runway open thread on Wednesday night over at MamaPopTalk. I'm one of the moderators on the chat, so you know you best ackrite! If ragging on celebs and dissecting pop culture is your bag, come visit us - you know you want to, betches.

PS: To all mah betches who are lucky enough to go to BlogHer this year, have a fantastic time, and remember I am there in spirit - A spirit in a really fierce dress!



Sunday, July 13, 2008

Yes, We Have No Belly Dancing

Because there is no end to the lengths I will go to in order to humiliate myself, here is my first real attempt at a video blog, in which I explain why I will not ever post video of my attempts to belly dance. Woo! Science and technology! (I won't tell you how long it took me to put this together. Let's just say I have no editing programs, so it had to be a one-shot deal.)

Be kind, please.



If you have trouble seeing the video, CLICKY CLICKY.

Saturday, June 14, 2008

Because I have no shame

...or dignity, or common sense:

Mah Flickr. Oh, the humanity.

Real update with real content soon, including a new Actual Conversation, in which I consider marriage as a solution to the rising gas prices.

Friday, May 30, 2008

A Love Letter to My Wireless Tech Support Dude

My Dearest Amir:

Ah, Amir. I am so grateful to have you in my life. Why, Amir? Because you, Amir, are absolutely delightful in every way. When I realized that my CD/DVD player was not working, I was despondent. "Wah!" I cried, flinging myself onto my imaginary fainting couch. "I will never be able to install my wireless router without the install DVD! Life is not worth living any longer!" Oh, the bitter, bitter tears I wept, Amir. I dreaded calling tech support, not knowing I would soon meet the most wonderful man in the world. I am, of course, talking about you, Amir. You see, Amir, I do not have much luck when it comes to calling for information over the phone. I hate the phone, Amir. I especially hate the evil, sociopathic, sadistic douchebags at Sallie Mae, who make me cry every time I call them regarding my student loans. Oh, my student loans, Amir! The mere thought makes me shake with anguish.

But I am going on a tangent, my dear Amir. For this love letter is for you, and the fantastic support of the technical sort that you so generously gave me this evening. You were personable and warm, asking me if you could refer to me by my first name, and if I was calling from the United States or Canada. Oh Amir, of COURSE you may call me by my first name! Such a chivalrous gentleman you are, my sweet Amir. You then took me gently by the hand and said that you would be happy to walk me through my installation, as if we were strolling through a field of wildflowers. You had me at "hello," Amir.

What is it that makes me love you so, Amir? Let me count the ways! Is it your lilting accent? (I hear Bombay is lovely, Amir. Perhaps someday I shall visit you!) Is it the way you gave me intimidating strings of numbers to apply to the installation program, the way you oh so patiently waited for me to stupidly repeat and confirm said numbers over and over again? I'm not very good at math, Amir. Please don't hold that against me. Or is it your wicked sense of humor, which you displayed when you kindly asked if I had bothered to plug the router into the electrical outlet? I hadn't, Amir! Oh, Amir, how we laughed! What is your sign, Amir? I'm a Cancer.

Amir, you are a king amongst men when it comes to technical support. I will never be able to thank you properly. Mere words cannot contain my gratitude, and dare I say, Amir, love? I am writing this from my bedroom, Amir. I can now do this because of your genius work in guiding me ever so lovingly through my installation. Do you mind if I call you, Amir, on those cold, lonely nights? You did give me your direct line, Amir, you naughty, saucy thing. Amir, would you think less of me if I "accidentally" poured a cup of coffee into my router so that we might speak again?

Amir, you need a raise. And a lovely office, with a door and a nameplate. Would you like a nice cup of tea, Amir? I will get it for you. Because it is thanks to you, Amir, that my faith in calling technical support has been restored. If you're ever in New Jersey, Amir, I'd love to take you to dinner. Email me, Amir. I could even read it from the bathtub now. And it's all because of you.

Love and kisses forever, my sweet Amir. I will never be able to gaze upon the festive blinky lights on my wireless router without thinking fondly of you.

XOXOXOXOXO,

Miss Banshee

Saturday, May 10, 2008

My big girl blog!

Well, here it is. A real blog. Oh, I've dabbled. A livejournal here, a myspace there. But then I realized that I am not, in fact, fourteen years old, and should get on this whole really real bloggy thing.

I am very sick of the word "blog."

I'll be importing a bunch of my old stuff, but should get up to date fairly soon. Until then, hang tight, my naughty little monkeys. Mama'll be back soon.