After much anticipation, weeks of planning and designing and tons of whining (on my part). Jeremiah and I are finally ready to launch Dork Designs ! I'm so excited it can hardly be contained.
I've also cast aside my previous business, Ultra-Cute Crochet in favor of this new website and the addition of screen printed t-shirts. One of the shirts for sale actually says 'dork' on it and yes, I'm wearing one right now.
If you are interested in putting a Dork Designs button on your site or if you're interested in saying a few words about the new site have at it! That would be so awesome indeed!
If you're considering doing a giveaway or something like that, please contact me at oliverosetree@yahoo.com or our new site email dorkdesigns@gmail.com. If you send a request to the gmail account...you may have to deal with Jeremiah...and I'm not sure you want to do that! :big giant wink:
My logo design was done by Jodi From Pink Designz and the website was designed by Andy Weigel. If you're in the market for either of these services, don't hesitate to get in touch with either of these designers. They were excellent and easy to work with.
I appreciate all the feedback about the site you can give me! Yay! Hip. Hop. Hooray.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
My Stinky Valentine's Day Party
Rosey called me at 6:30 am yesterday from her Dad's house (this is his long weekend with the girls) to remind me that I am one of the three parents in charge of crafts/activities for the Valentine's Day party at school.
Whoops.
I remember reading the paper sent home about the V-Day Party, briefly speaking to another one of the parents and being perplexed and confused as to why there were three parents to do the activities and crafts for a 45 minute party and ONE parent in charge of the snacks and drinks. I know I tweeted about it once.
And then I promptly forgot, until Rose's phone call.
"Mom! What kind of thing are you doing for the party today? Mom!" She's way too chipper, demanding and awake for early morning.
Elijah, perched on the pillow beside me starts to yell, "Wo Wo on the phone! WOWOWOWOWOWOWO!".
"Hi Rosey. To be honest with you, I haven't really decided what I'm going to do. How about a word search?" I'm fighting a cold and my voice is very hoarse, which sets Rosey into a panic.
"OH no. Mom. Are you losing your voice?! You're not coming to the party, are you? I told everyone you were coming to the party!" Panicked AND whiny.
"Rose. I will be at the party with proverbial bells on. Don't worry."
"Bells? Proverbial? Mom. Why do you have to talk like that?"
I figured out some games, including the 'guess how many pieces of candy in the giant pretzel jar' (supplied by my Momma! Thanks Momma!) and some word puzzles.
I've been to the school many times before but this time, carrying a giant pretzel bin tied with ribbon and filled with candy, I was more excited.
Rose saw me walk into the class and gave me the cool kid 'half wave'. I love seeing her at school, she is a great student and a very social person, so I'm always proud of her awesomeness. Most of the other students, not so cool.
I was accosted immediately by three or four slightly foul smelling little boys. "Hi Rose's Mom!" I'm not sure why they were so interested in me, I supposed at first that maybe they had crushes on Rose or maybe they remembered me from another time I helped out in the class or during a previous year...
Oh. It's the giant, humongous jar of candy! Duh.
"Hey! Rose's Mom? Can I ask you something?'' This boy was particularly smelly. Why are boys so stinky?
"Yes, sure."
"How many pieces are in there?"
"What's your name?"
"Stinky." (I'm protecting the poor, disgusting child.)
"Ok, Stinky. Let me tell everyone this so I'm not assaulted with the same question over and over again."
I cleared my throat, which was still quite hoarse, motioned to the class for quiet. I was, of course, ignored.
"Hey! Hello! Can I have everyone's attention?!" I sounded like a weird, dying, zombie toad. At this point my futile attempts at quieting the classroom actually got a eye roll from a parent in the back of the room. Great.
"HELLO! Everyone listen to me! IT'S ABOUT THE CANDY!" Ouch. Yelling is hard work.
Finally everyone stopped what they were doing and listened to me for a minute. I explained them the rules of the guessing game and then added,
"I have no idea how many pieces of candy are in this jar. My mom helped me put this game together and was afraid that I would tell Rose the number, or give her some kind of hint, so she wrote the amount down on a piece of paper, put it in an envelope, sealed it and put it in my back pocket. So you don't have to ask me how many pieces are in the jar. I have no idea." I felt pretty happy with my speech and was satisfied that it would keep the kids off my back for the remainder.
Rosey's hand shot up in the air.
"Yes, Rosey?" Being a teacher isn't so hard, after all!
"So you're saying that you don't know how many pieces of candy are in the jar?"
Fail.
Whoops.
I remember reading the paper sent home about the V-Day Party, briefly speaking to another one of the parents and being perplexed and confused as to why there were three parents to do the activities and crafts for a 45 minute party and ONE parent in charge of the snacks and drinks. I know I tweeted about it once.
And then I promptly forgot, until Rose's phone call.
"Mom! What kind of thing are you doing for the party today? Mom!" She's way too chipper, demanding and awake for early morning.
Elijah, perched on the pillow beside me starts to yell, "Wo Wo on the phone! WOWOWOWOWOWOWO!".
"Hi Rosey. To be honest with you, I haven't really decided what I'm going to do. How about a word search?" I'm fighting a cold and my voice is very hoarse, which sets Rosey into a panic.
"OH no. Mom. Are you losing your voice?! You're not coming to the party, are you? I told everyone you were coming to the party!" Panicked AND whiny.
"Rose. I will be at the party with proverbial bells on. Don't worry."
"Bells? Proverbial? Mom. Why do you have to talk like that?"
I figured out some games, including the 'guess how many pieces of candy in the giant pretzel jar' (supplied by my Momma! Thanks Momma!) and some word puzzles.
I've been to the school many times before but this time, carrying a giant pretzel bin tied with ribbon and filled with candy, I was more excited.
Rose saw me walk into the class and gave me the cool kid 'half wave'. I love seeing her at school, she is a great student and a very social person, so I'm always proud of her awesomeness. Most of the other students, not so cool.
I was accosted immediately by three or four slightly foul smelling little boys. "Hi Rose's Mom!" I'm not sure why they were so interested in me, I supposed at first that maybe they had crushes on Rose or maybe they remembered me from another time I helped out in the class or during a previous year...
Oh. It's the giant, humongous jar of candy! Duh.
"Hey! Rose's Mom? Can I ask you something?'' This boy was particularly smelly. Why are boys so stinky?
"Yes, sure."
"How many pieces are in there?"
"What's your name?"
"Stinky." (I'm protecting the poor, disgusting child.)
"Ok, Stinky. Let me tell everyone this so I'm not assaulted with the same question over and over again."
I cleared my throat, which was still quite hoarse, motioned to the class for quiet. I was, of course, ignored.
"Hey! Hello! Can I have everyone's attention?!" I sounded like a weird, dying, zombie toad. At this point my futile attempts at quieting the classroom actually got a eye roll from a parent in the back of the room. Great.
"HELLO! Everyone listen to me! IT'S ABOUT THE CANDY!" Ouch. Yelling is hard work.
Finally everyone stopped what they were doing and listened to me for a minute. I explained them the rules of the guessing game and then added,
"I have no idea how many pieces of candy are in this jar. My mom helped me put this game together and was afraid that I would tell Rose the number, or give her some kind of hint, so she wrote the amount down on a piece of paper, put it in an envelope, sealed it and put it in my back pocket. So you don't have to ask me how many pieces are in the jar. I have no idea." I felt pretty happy with my speech and was satisfied that it would keep the kids off my back for the remainder.
Rosey's hand shot up in the air.
"Yes, Rosey?" Being a teacher isn't so hard, after all!
"So you're saying that you don't know how many pieces of candy are in the jar?"
Fail.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Writing Exercise
She sits upright, short legs stretched to the maximum length in order to reach the ratty ottoman, a tattered remnant of a dead grandfather. Next to her, perched precariously on the arm of the small beige couch, the skeleton of a pear lies in the center of a pearl colored tea plate, picked clean.
She opens her mouth to complain about the faint ache in her neck, closes her mouth with a decisive chomp and decides to keep her whining to herself. This ailment is simply remedied, no need to bother others with her petty infirmities.
She regrets sitting down to participate in this writing exercise, she regrets staying up till 2 a.m. the night before reading a totally random Val McDermid novel, she regrets drinking four cups of coffee this morning in order to remedy the late night random novel reading session.
One arm reaches up toward the ceiling, the second one follows it as she pulls herself out of her slumping position on the front room couch. She glances behind her with a slight sore turn of the neck and notices her work area is cluttered and messy.
"I wouldn't let it get like this if my neck didn't hurt so bad!" The recipient of this comment laughs and rolls his eyes.
L'enfer est plein de bonnes volontés et désirs!
The writing exercise was to write a short vignette (short, impressionistic scenes that focus on one moment or give a particular insight into a character, idea, or setting). Want to play along? If you write something comment me the link and I will add them to this post.
Mollie, who is lovely and also Ok in the UK has posted her vignette. Thanks for writing with me, Mollie!
Aimee at Pleasantly Demented, who found me through Mollie, also gave this a whirl and did a great job.
She opens her mouth to complain about the faint ache in her neck, closes her mouth with a decisive chomp and decides to keep her whining to herself. This ailment is simply remedied, no need to bother others with her petty infirmities.
She regrets sitting down to participate in this writing exercise, she regrets staying up till 2 a.m. the night before reading a totally random Val McDermid novel, she regrets drinking four cups of coffee this morning in order to remedy the late night random novel reading session.
One arm reaches up toward the ceiling, the second one follows it as she pulls herself out of her slumping position on the front room couch. She glances behind her with a slight sore turn of the neck and notices her work area is cluttered and messy.
"I wouldn't let it get like this if my neck didn't hurt so bad!" The recipient of this comment laughs and rolls his eyes.
L'enfer est plein de bonnes volontés et désirs!
The writing exercise was to write a short vignette (short, impressionistic scenes that focus on one moment or give a particular insight into a character, idea, or setting). Want to play along? If you write something comment me the link and I will add them to this post.
Mollie, who is lovely and also Ok in the UK has posted her vignette. Thanks for writing with me, Mollie!
Aimee at Pleasantly Demented, who found me through Mollie, also gave this a whirl and did a great job.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
A Letter to God
2/10/2011 12:45 pm
location: my front room's couch
Dear God,
It's me, Erin. I'm not going to ask you for bigger boobs (trust me, I've got that part down), for a billion dollars, or for world peace. I'm not going to beg you to get into heaven (yet), blame you for cancer or AIDS, or bemoan my fate as the possessor of a wide, flat ass.
I am going to ask you for one simple, tiny little thing. I would like to have longer eyelashes.
That's all.
Thanks,
Erin
P.S. I've decided that longer eyelashes aren't really that important, but instead of deleting that and requesting something different, I'm going to leave that request there and just make sure you understand it's my #2 request.
P.S.S. My #1 request is that I'd magically not have to come up with the craft/activity for Rosey's Valentines Day party on Monday. And that whatever parents had to do it would have fun coming up with the craft and then implementing it with the children. I think that's it.
Thanks again, God.
Love Bunches,
Erin
P.S.S.S Ok. Just one more quick thing. You know how mother fucking cold it is today? You might not have noticed, because of how busy you are, etc...etc...
BUT IT'S 8 degrees right now. 8 DEGREES. Is there anyway you can do something about that? Before I have to go to the bus stop in 12 minutes?
Your Devoted Servant (I try, sort of),
Erin
location: my front room's couch
Dear God,
It's me, Erin. I'm not going to ask you for bigger boobs (trust me, I've got that part down), for a billion dollars, or for world peace. I'm not going to beg you to get into heaven (yet), blame you for cancer or AIDS, or bemoan my fate as the possessor of a wide, flat ass.
I am going to ask you for one simple, tiny little thing. I would like to have longer eyelashes.
That's all.
Thanks,
Erin
P.S. I've decided that longer eyelashes aren't really that important, but instead of deleting that and requesting something different, I'm going to leave that request there and just make sure you understand it's my #2 request.
P.S.S. My #1 request is that I'd magically not have to come up with the craft/activity for Rosey's Valentines Day party on Monday. And that whatever parents had to do it would have fun coming up with the craft and then implementing it with the children. I think that's it.
Thanks again, God.
Love Bunches,
Erin
P.S.S.S Ok. Just one more quick thing. You know how mother fucking cold it is today? You might not have noticed, because of how busy you are, etc...etc...
BUT IT'S 8 degrees right now. 8 DEGREES. Is there anyway you can do something about that? Before I have to go to the bus stop in 12 minutes?
Your Devoted Servant (I try, sort of),
Erin
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
I'm like an Award Winning Journalist!
The newly redesigned and immensely awesome (yes, I'm laying it on quite thick, but the admins are my buddies!) Studio Thirty Plus used to have a Blogger Q and A section. Each week a blogger would interview another blogger and then that interviewed blogger would pick a different blogger and interview them.
Well, Miss Yvonne interviewed me a while ago and then I interview Kim from Yellow Trash Diaries. It turns out Kim and I broke Studio Thirty Plus's Q and A...because it's not longer there.
Is it possible to break the interwebs? Leave it to us to make that happen!
Here is my interview with the lovely and witty Kim:
Hello Kim. Throughout this question asking extravaganza I expect you to be sarcastic and borderline rude the entire time. I hope you can live up to those expectations.
Well, Miss Yvonne interviewed me a while ago and then I interview Kim from Yellow Trash Diaries. It turns out Kim and I broke Studio Thirty Plus's Q and A...because it's not longer there.
Is it possible to break the interwebs? Leave it to us to make that happen!
Here is my interview with the lovely and witty Kim:
Hello Kim. Throughout this question asking extravaganza I expect you to be sarcastic and borderline rude the entire time. I hope you can live up to those expectations.
1) First off, just to make things a bit more comfortable around here (for me at least), let’s get something out of the way. Are you attracted to me? Are your intentions towards me wholesome or completely inappropriate?
Lately I have been asking my husband to wear hats with kitten ears to our bed, does that answer your question?
2) For those of us who don’t haven’t read through your whole entire blog…why the name Yellow Trash Diaries? I just want to let you know that I have read most of your blog.
Well, The Wind In My Vagina was already taken, so....
3) Being a fan of your facebook comic page, Kimmie Haha and your more serious looking facebook art page K.H. Waters Art, I’ve always wondered; did you have any artistic training? Can you make a little cartoon me? Can you do it right now? Like immediately.
Total artistic training: one class in middle school, one drawing class in college, and many, many lonely hours spent with my paper and pencil in my room during my childhood. Thank you for reminding me of that painful period in my life. Thank you very much, Erin.
4) You live in GEORGIA!? I feel damp just thinking about it. We used to drive through Georgia on the way to my grandparents old folks condo in Destin Fl. Is it hot right now? Do you ever think about moving?
Damp? Seriously?
My father was in the army. They sent us from Alaska to here-- 'cause the Army likes to fuck with people like that. Don't know why I've stayed since then, maybe the sweet tea has dulled my senses and will to leave.
5) Now that we’re knee deep in the mire of this horrible interview, are you regretting telling me that you would do this? Do you wish that someone else would have interviewed you instead? Like Vic…or Jules? They’re so much cooler than me.
Vic and Jules are much cooler than you. But really, Erin, that is a long list to get into, and do we really have time to go down that road? Also, I think Vic may be blocking my emails.
6) Ok, here’s the inevitable question, why did you start blogging?
My best friend begged me to. I think she was getting tired of the drunken heart to heart phone calls in the middle of the night.
7) What has surprised you about the blogging experience so far?
The great people I've bonded with.
What? Shut up.
8) You have two extremely adorable children (way to go with just the two…anymore kids than that and it’s out of control stupid), what is your favorite aspect of parenting? What’s your least favorite?
Okay, obviously you are out to completely humiliate me by making me show my soft underbelly. So, my favorite part of parenting, I suppose, is the freedom to completely love another person without holding back for fear of rejection or hurt. I love them without any walls and with such magnitude it humbles me.
Shit. There, happy now?
My least favorite part of parenting? Well, I didn't get high blood pressure for nuthin', honey.
9) I have a sort of weird obsession with bed time routines. Why? I don’t know. What is your bedtime/night-time routine? Do you think it’s strange that I want to know?
The only routine I have is an ongoing game with my husband. It's called Who's going to be last up the stairs and left turning everything off? It's a challenge to see who can surprise the other by retiring first-- we relish subtlety.
Yeah, we're boring. And lazy.
10) Your husband seems cool. Can we swap for a few days?
Depends. How is Jeremiah's credit score?
Friday, February 4, 2011
Our Photo Secrets...
I was editing some photos for the new website Jeremiah and I are launching soon (contact me soon if you want to do a giveaway on your blog!) and I noticed some discrepancies between the photos that are taken of me by my kids and the photos I take of myself.
This is a photo I took of myself:
And this is one taken by Maxine Jane:
Wow. That chipmunk is staring right at me.
I noticed another trend while flipping through folders. Jeremiah hates my guts with a passion unquantifiable.
That's one hot and very annoyed lifepartner! By the way, the t-shirt in the last photo is one of the new items we will be selling on the new website. I can't wait till it's finally done!
This is a photo I took of myself:
And this is one taken by Maxine Jane:
Wow. That chipmunk is staring right at me.
I noticed another trend while flipping through folders. Jeremiah hates my guts with a passion unquantifiable.
That's one hot and very annoyed lifepartner! By the way, the t-shirt in the last photo is one of the new items we will be selling on the new website. I can't wait till it's finally done!
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Batman Forever
I spend a lot time talking/thinking about my five year old daughter Maxine Jane and how to make her happy and comfortable. I spend a lot of time working with eight year old Olive on her school work and hygiene (oh boy...this is a long story and someday she's going to regret hassling me about it, cause I'm going to tell ALL OF HER FRIENDS about it). I spend a lot of time getting ready for my ten year old daughter Rosey to enter the Pre Teen Hell Zone and washing her soccer clothes.
And although I spend the most time with Elijah you would think I actually give him the most time all in all. But not really.
He's a very happy and self entertaining little boy, he likes to watch batman, play batman games, play with batman toys and play various batman video games. He's my only child that's ever been obsessed with something and also my only child that's ever insisted on dressing in character all day and all night long.
He's certainly handsomer than Kilmer and Keaton's Batmans, way cooler than Clooney's Batman and almost as awesome as Christian Bale's Batman (give me a break people, who's awesomer than Bale?).
I mean seriously! Look at that chin. That Jaw! Le sigh.
When I was a little kid I was obsessed with The Loch Ness Monster, World War 2 and Ernest Hemmingway...so I think that Elijah's Batman obsession seems healthy in comparison.
And although I spend the most time with Elijah you would think I actually give him the most time all in all. But not really.
He's a very happy and self entertaining little boy, he likes to watch batman, play batman games, play with batman toys and play various batman video games. He's my only child that's ever been obsessed with something and also my only child that's ever insisted on dressing in character all day and all night long.
He's certainly handsomer than Kilmer and Keaton's Batmans, way cooler than Clooney's Batman and almost as awesome as Christian Bale's Batman (give me a break people, who's awesomer than Bale?).
I mean seriously! Look at that chin. That Jaw! Le sigh.
When I was a little kid I was obsessed with The Loch Ness Monster, World War 2 and Ernest Hemmingway...so I think that Elijah's Batman obsession seems healthy in comparison.
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