The curse that was last week. Or Last week’s curse. Perhaps Everything I touch turns to shit week. Whatever.

Last week was cursed.  The entire week.  I sent someone a stained glass window that she ordered.  It arrived shattered.  Son. Of. A Bitch.

I sent another order to a customer that I did completely incorrectly.  What the hell is wrong with me?

I couldn’t sew anything to save my life.

Every piece of glass I tried to drill broke.  It was ridiculous.

Timothy got out of football conditioning 20 minutes late one day, 30 minutes late the next and a full hour late the next day.  That’s when I lost it, stormed the field and then waited patiently to yell at the coach.  I couldn’t even throw a proper hissy fit because the jerk looked at me as soon as I started to rant  explain why this was not acceptable and nodded at me like he agreed totally.  When I paused he said “you are absolutely right, I am so sorry and it will never happen again.”  damn it.  How could I stay mad?  There goes all my righteous indignation.  But the fact remains that day was a wash for me.

I tried to make a video tutorial but everything went wrong more than once.  Like 14 times actually and when I finally got it done, it refused to upload.  I gave up.

Everything I touched turned to shit.

Gabrielle was a maniac.  She has decided she really dislikes her brother Timothy.  This is so odd for her because she generally loves everyone before now.  And the more she can’t deal with him the harder he tries because he finds her rejection absolutely hilarious.  He hugs her and she says “don’t touch me.”  He says “I love you.” she says “Go back to Gabe’s house please.”  He says “I missed you, Gabrielle.” she says “I wish you lived somewhere else.”  You need to realize that Gabrielle is special needs, generally has a really sweet personality and is about the mentality of a 5 year old in most aspects of her life.  So it’s kind of hilarious to hear her say these things to be honest.  Timothy thinks so.  He also likes to beep her nose.  Which he did yesterday.  He said “that was a celebration beep, Gabrielle.  A beep full of love, not a beep full of anger.” she said “I hate you.” and left it at that.

I spent about 3 hours pleading with my printer to work – it finally did.  (Yes, the printer IS on.  YES it is connected to the network, why must we argue?  What do you mean it is out of ink?  How can it be out of ink?  It has only ever printed two effing things.  The printer door IS CLOSED.”  foot stomping and swearing commenced.  It finally worked.  Shipping labels are printed.  Life is again moving forward.  “Finish it Friday” became “F it Friday.” which then became “F it Saturday.” and Sunday.

Speaking of Saturday.  Brian and I went to an exhibit opening at the Tampa Museum of art.  It was, well, interesting.  He and I spent much of the evening discussing the way the women were dressed, who was wearing things entirely too young for her age, who was wearing an apparently popular neckline that basically is a U cut in the top of a dress that goes to the mid-drift.  Who had on some sort of bra/ sticky something or another to prevent wardrobe malfunctions and who clearly should not wear that style.  The last line can be summed up with “Anyone over the age of 20 or larger than a B cup.”  Also, Brian hasn’t learned to modulate his voice when making snarky remarks about art.  He is good when we are talking about what people are wearing, or hairstyles or make up and it’s not catty honestly.  If someone looks great I will point him or her out to Brian and he will do the same.  I don’t even know how we began this.  I think because I think in shapes and colors and this is his way of having a conversation about shapes and colors with me.  One young lady was adorable, she had very short hair, very 60’s make up and a shift dress.  Brian admired the hair and the dress but not the make up.  I told him it was all part of her look.  It was an entire image she put together.  I pulled up a picture of Mia Farrow and he understood.  Anyhow, it’s fun.  But the art…

Some of the artwork was beautiful.  Some of it was interesting, even if not my taste.  Some was God Awful.  Of course, that’s as it should be.  One piece was a giant, and I mean GIGANTIC balloon sculpture.  I couldn’t help but be impressed.  And also horrified.  And amused.  Brian, however, is not quiet when he is talking about objects and I felt I needed to point out that this was an OPENING and the ARTISTS WERE HERE.  It didn’t stop him.  I will put the pictures along with his comments below.

I eventually encouraged him to go look at the ancient art on display.  Including a mummy sarcophagus which he was enthralled with the last time we visited.  I told him if he wasn’t quiet he would be IN the sarcophagus.  He doesn’t even take my threats seriously anymore.  So off he went to hang out with the ancient stuff and I talked about a really peculiar sculpture of teeth with a stranger.  The little plaque beside it said “Dental model of artist’s friend who is dead but doesn’t know it.” which makes me wonder if the friend doesn’t know he is dead or doesn’t realize his teeth are on display in an art gallery and frankly from the state of his teeth, some had intestines, one was a stick, I am not surprised a bit that he is dead.

Brian eventually returned to the land of the living and continued to make comments about the exhibit that made me both kick him and laugh.  One piece was a gigantic piece of fabric.  Canvas I am guessing.  That the artist painted on both sides.  One side was painted, with a roller it appeared, a pastel color and then was stamped with (what I am assuming) were blocks that the artist (I am assuming) carved.  There was a pineapple and a soda can image.  Repeating.  Over the entire front.  Of the canvas.  Which was large.  Very, very large.  It was hung ceiling to floor and still curled under at the bottom.  Maybe 20 feet long and about 60 inches wide.  The back was painted – again with a roller and I would venture to guess latex paint- with stripes.  I kept looking for the plaque that would explain what the hell this WAS.  I find myself thinking “what is the purpose of this?” and then remind myself that art has no purpose.  Then I see something like that and think “Ok, it has no purpose but what the hell?”  So I said to Brian “there must be an explanation for this somewhere.”  Brian said “There is.  It’s called ‘Shower Curtain.'” and I giggled and kicked him.  The same for the one he called “Preschool.” and one that he said looked like my glass grinder.  It looked nothing like my glass grinder.  It looked nothing like anything except, perhaps, an old-fashioned diver’s helmet.  The spooky looking ones that was once a creature on Scooby Doo.  But that is a stretch as well.  It was just odd.  And nothing like a glass grinder.

19417389_10214134435899097_5550947301690249279_o“This is called ‘shower curtain.” according to Brian.19417122_10214134435979099_3277832124235322188_o“These are called ‘Preschool.'” (I sort of liked these honestly.  Brian, not so much.)

I called this a lot of hot air.

That thing is enormous.  Brian is standing in front of (or maybe behind?) it.  It ran the length of the hallway.  I can’t begin to guess how many feet.  The next to pictures I took while standing under it.  I can appreciate the creativity it took to design this.  I cannot understand why anyone would take so much time and trouble to create something that will literally deflate.  Moving on….

So, thus far – and it is only 2:30 on a Monday – this week is looking better.  I should take advantage of this and go get something done.  I just got some fabric in the mail that I have been waiting for and am pretty excited about.  I also have an order that is very over due and needs some grinding done.

So off to my glass grinder which looks nothing like a divers helmet.


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