(e:zobar) has finished all the black in his cross-stitch pattern. It's a thing of beauty.
I did NOT get a photo of his whole costume!!! I can't believe it. i brought my camera, and then, I just didn't take it out of the bag, and I just didn't feel like taking pictures. Ugh! I am so dumb.

Anyway. (e:zobar) mentioned that he was hoping I would explain what all the Craft Nite stuff was about. So I'll explain.
My friend L and I went to high school together. I was class of '97, she was class of '98. She has always been very enthusiastically subscribed to the Girly-Girl School of Awesome. She is a fan of unicorns. She is a fan of pink things. She is a fan of glitter. She is a fan of fairies.
She is also a totally badass mathematician.
So she beads, and sews, and knits, and generally crafts her ass off.
Rewinding again-- I went to college and was class of '02. (There's a year missing. I spent it being a lesbian in Europe. Long story. Also I got mono and Bill Clinton got impeached. Not all good times but we gloss that over in memory.)
So a classmate in the Class of '02 was Dave. Not that Dave that is (e:Zobar). No, another Dave. A previous Dave. I met Dave in 1999 on his 18th birthday. He was lying on the floor moaning. "Oh dear," I said, "you poor thing, how much have you had?" I assumed the frat boys whose suite we were in had fed him too much alcohol. I assumed correctly, but in their defense, his answer was true: "Two beers," he moaned.
He's just that clumsy.
Anyway. Dave turned out to be a great friend, all four years of college. Senior year, I lived off-campus, and rented him a room in the house I was renting. L came to visit me. She and Dave decided to start dating.
Eight years later, they still are. He is a doctor. She is a teacher. Together, they do science for fun. But mostly, they craft. He's actually sort if into sewing, except that he's terrible at it. But he likes it.

So we meet up now and then, and craft things. Mostly, Dave is too tired (being a doctor is exhausting), and sits around causing trouble with (e:Zobar). L. actually knits. I bop around hyperactively and get drunk. It's a good time.
Sometimes we have other people get involved too. That's OK too. More alcohol gets consumed. It's a good time.

I was going to upload pictures but it seems not to work in Safari either. Hm. Oh well. At least I can moblog.

I have been instructed to remind (e:james) of our conversation. Just google the words roy orbison clingfilm. You won't believe what comes up. That first result is exactly what you want. And how.

Last time we had a conversation, (e:james) gave us a regrettable Google search term, so I suppose we'll just return the favor. but the really odd and shocking thing about this one is how totally not at all explicit or disturbing the stories generally are. And then there's Roy Orbison. In Clingfilm.
Yeah.

Anyway.
Z informs me that I owe y'all a better post about the Craft Nites, but I have to leave for work in five minutes and am waiting for my jeans to come out of the dryer, so I can't go into it just now.

Also I have a crushing sinus headache this morning, but no flu. Awesome.

Great party last night! I just wish I didn't have to work at 9 am!!
Jesus has not yet risen in this house and I think I won't wake him before I go.

So I don't have a costume for me. I figured I'd be so sick I would either have to stay home, or would just curl up in a corner of the party and try not to breathe on anything, while Z went forth and radiated his awesome.
But I woke up this morning and I feel mostly OK. I mean, not fantastic, but OK. So I won't be calling into work and I won't be missing the party.

But I don't have a costume.

Oh well, I'll think of something. :( Not the awesome thing I'd thought of, but something easier. Boo.

HAHA I moblogged!!!

So can you guess what it is? It's a small part of the whole thing, but very labor-intensive. :)

My boss's kids had H1N1 last week. His wife had it as well. It made his older daughter (7) pretty sick, and his wife was miserable, but it only slowed the 3-year-old slightly. (The 3-year-old has the attitude and constitution of a Mack truck. She is the kind of child who puts her Tonka trucks onto the coffee table, and then pushes the coffee table around the room making vroom-vroom noises.)
Monday one of the clerks I work with (and indeed had spent Sunday's shift with) came in and was promptly dismissed as too sick to work. His girlfriend had spent the previous week miserable, probably with H1N1. He'd felt under the weather and had been obsessively using hand sanitizer for several days. I'd worked with him for most of those days.
Monday the boss went home at his normal quitting time, which is uncharacteristic. He normally stays at least an hour late, usually two.
Tuesday he came in and instructed everyone to keep their distance, as he certainly was suffering with the flu. He wound up staying several hours, and while he was careful to maintain distance from everyone and sanitize his hands frequently and not use the same telephone as anyone else, he still was there in a small room with everyone.

We expect to lose most of the rest of the store staff at some point, but hopefully not all at the same time. There are only five clerks, so there aren't a lot of people able to cover for one another.

I've just had 2 days off in a row, counting today. I have felt a little under the weather, intermittently, all autumn, but have been able to dismiss it as allergies. But now I really don't feel quite right-- my ability to regulate my body temperature is off, my chest is tight, my head is fuzzy, and my throat is sore. So I'm probably coming down with something.

Should we lay bets on whether it's the H1N1?

just for (e:tinypliny)-- I tried again to send this from my iPhone but no luck. I email using the address I have on file here, to mobl@estrip.org, and it just never shows up. :(

Not like (e:Paul)'s entry, but the other night, the two guys on the closing shift were going about their business, and some guy who was "just looking" darted behind the counter, grabbed the most expensive lens he could reach , and strolled all casual-like out of the store.
What frosts my buttons, besides the fact that the dude just straight-up stole from us, is that the TWO customers who WITNESSED this happening SAID NOTHING. Both of them took their prints they'd been waiting for, walked out to their cars, drove home, and THEN AND ONLY THEN did they call the store to say "Hey that guy took something." When it was WAY too late to do ANYTHING about it.

Williamsvillites. Wouldn't it have been more useful to tap the shoulder of the clerk who was at the photo kiosk working on something (and thus not watching) and whisper discreetly to him, if you are so averse to confrontation?
Oy. I love the suburbs.

I will have to try again to send photos from my iPhone. Hilarity keeps ensuing when it's around.
Who is going to Music Is Art tomorrow?? (e:Zobar) and I are going to try to make it there! I have to work and he has to lug his remote Baltic kinsman around, but we think if we can make it happen that the festival would be the ideal way to entertain him.

Also my back is still hurt and I am very bummed about that.

I had something to post here and can't remember what it was, but one day I will remember.

I should probably mention that I got a new job a few months back, working at the camera store on Transit Ave. There are two locations, and the Delaware store is the bigger one, but the Transit one has the online sales office in the back, so we actually have more stock. But if you go to one or the other we send stuff back and forth all the time. Black and white film gets developed at Delaware. Color 120 film comes over to Transit. Any prints larger than 8x12 go to Delaware. Slide film actually gets sent all the way to Philadelphia.
Oh yes-- the chain is no longer locally owned. Used to be one family that owned allll the stores. Well, a number of factors contributed, but largely, as I found out today, there was a tragedy in the family-- I believe the daughter that was to inherit died young or something awful-- and they sold the chain instead.
They sold it to another independent family-owned chain down in Philly, and so now we *sort of* have corporate overlords. But not really. The district manager, who has been in place for about fifteen years, runs the place in the way that seems best to him, and our two little stores make a reasonable living. His philosophy is openly that his employees are his most important asset, which is kind of nice. The pay is negligible, but there are no stupid rules, there's no stupid dress code, and what's most awesome is that if a customer is being unreasonable, the management will totally back you up. You just have to be reasonable yourself.
So I like working there. I feel like it's useful work. I'm helping people, I'm doing something meaningful, I get to be a little artistic (unlike Rite Aid or Walgreens, we actually manually color-correct every print, so they come out as nicely as they can; there's no automatic setting. The downside, if you're a weirdo, is that we do have to look at every one, so when we're printing someone's fetish pics or whatever, I admit, we do snicker a little. I haven't seen nearly as much sausage as I anticipated when I started, though). Mostly, there's a refreshing lack of bullshit to the place.

And our prices on cameras and lenses are extremely competitive. We don't get the profit margins Best Buy does, since our distributors don't get to do nearly as much volume and so don't give us those margins, but Best Buy, believe me, doesn't pass their savings onto you. They charge the same amount we do, and get a bigger profit. But it's OK, because we're not spending a thousand dollars a day on advertising either. We're not a real high-profit company, but we're an institution. And it's nice being involved in that.
I just wish *I* made a little more money.

Oh, hey, for you photo and arty types-- DCV's running a promo contest thing with the Music Is Art festival. Send them your photos from that festival and you can win a nice camera. Also, friend the store on Facebook, or become a fan-- it would warm the cockles of my manager's surprisingly un-evil little heart. For some reason he likes that kind of thing.