I am totally blaming these tears on PMS.

p.s. Um, I was wondering where Obama's security was, but did ya'll see that bulletproof glass enclosure he was in?
I gotta get me one of those.

AMERICA!

FUCK YEAH!

*smile*

To those people booing John McCain's concession speech-
STFU. His speech writers did a damn good job on that speech.

-A.

Hey there. Hows it goin?

Ok, they're not sanded or painted yet, but look! I made things!!!


Hamster and Snuggle owl


Snuggle koala and standing kitty


Snuggle kitty and snowman


Standing doe and standing Unicorn

Yay! I've been artistically productive! WOOT!

Stuff I've been working on lately.

Little red owls


Purple owl necklace


Oh deer me! Necklace



and... a wrapped wire spider sculpture necklace. heh.


I've been working on a lot more, but I've been listing most of them as fast as I make them.

But today is a day for sculptures. There will be pictures later.

So... meh. Lots of Christmas present making going on over here. Not much else.


I need to take pictures of my scarves. hehee.. yay scarves!

Anyways..


Tell me something good. Leave me a comment with something to make me smile. a picture, a joke, a website, anything.
please?

Hey everyone!

I figured I'd make a post about this because lots of people have asked me in comments about it, and this will be a good thing to clear the air about.

Yeah, in my shop I use mostly brass, copper, surgical steel, silver plated brass or gold plated brass.

I do this, because it is less expensive for me, and I can offer lower prices in my shop. I've found that it sells well because it still looks nice, and I buy quality products, so its not like the plating is going to chip off with regular wear.

Anyways..

I WILL DO STERLING SILVER JEWELRY FOR SPECIAL ORDERS! I have done this many times, and I have absolutely no problem working with sterling silver. I love it. Its soft and delicate, and so shiny.

Anyways, if you want me to make you something with sterling silver (or gold vermeil, or gold fill) Just go to my shop, and on the right hand side right below where it shows my feedback rating, there is a little button that says "request custom item". Click it, and just tell me what you want. You can even upload photos for examples.

A few things to know-

I will ask you to pay upfront after we've agreed upon the design. I'll probably even sketch it out or show you components.  The reason I have to get payment up front is that I do not regularly carry sterling silver components (except for a little sterling wire, a few jump rings a few charms and the occasional clasp) so I have to buy it to make it especially for you. 

And that leads to the other thing..

...Its gonna be more expensive than a regular item in my shop.

No, not because its a special order, but because I have to go out and buy it, and even if I try to buy in bulk, the price of sterling doesnt really go down much if you order in bulk (unless you order a TON of it) so- yeah. I need to still be able to make a little profit, plus pay for the actual components.

Same thing goes for most gemstones, and special order pendants or charms.

As a price guideline, most sterling necklaces I've made and sold have been between 35$ and 50$. Most sterling earrings were 15$-30$, again, it depends on the cost of the components and the time put into it.

All of that being said, if you just wanna see if I could make something maybe someday or whatever, just comment or email me, or convo me on Etsy.

FaeriedTreasures(at)live(dot)com or if you have my personal email address you could use that one too.

thats all, just wanted to let everyone know, feel free to make special requests!
I can also do special requests with the regular type stuff I have in my shop, and I dont charge more because its a special request or anything. Beaded bracelets with a glass charm and a metal charm will probably always only be 9$ in my shop. hahaa..

Thanks!

-Drea

Ok, so... I dont really watch tv, but when I'm home I have the tv on so I can listen to stuff while I run around doing things.

And there is this commercial for Brita filters or Brita pitchers that just DRIVES ME NUTS. I dont even remember the actual commercial itself, only at the end, someone is pouring water from a pitcher into a glass..

And the sound of the water isnt like, the sound of running water. it sounds EXACTLY like someone peeing.

OMG IT DRIVES ME NUTS
and it makes me want to pee.

speaking of....

Ha.. so, Um..

"A chronicle of my failures" will resume on Monday. I'm emotionally worn out this week, and I have to save my frayed nerves for a weekend trip back home to celebrate my mom/older sister/little sisters birthday, and also Aaron's moms birthday.

Yay.

All replies to this post are screened and private.

As the end of october nears, I start turning into a busy little bug who makes little trinkets, or collects them from all sorts of places, and I love giving people a reason to smile.

I want your real name and mailing address.

I promise not to give it to anyone else. I promise not to stalk you.
Even if you want me to.

If you think I have your mailing address already, still, type it in, because I really need to update on who exactly reads my journal and who exactly wants to be ON my mailing list.

I can't promise when I'll send it. I can't promise it will be anything of more value than just a sentiment. I cant even promise that everyone will get something..

I do promise that you'll be included in my winter/christmas card list, and that some of you will receive something random in the mail between now and then.

So here is what your comment needs to say-

First name Last name
Mailing address

Favourite thing about Fall, favourite thing about winter
Favourite colour
Your best memory.

And we'll see what happens.

-Drea

Poll #1277635 What do you want in a scarf?
Open to: All, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 57

How long do you like your scarves?

How wide do you like your scarves?

What pattern do you like your scarves?

What colour of scarf would you prefer to own?

Ok, this is going to sound wrong.


But those of you, ANY of you, who have been close to someone who is either a breast cancer survivor, or who has passed on from breast cancer, If you see fit, please help me with this project I'm working on.

In my etsy shop, I want to create some "pink" items, where 100% of the proceeds goes to the Susan G Komen foundation in Seattle. I want to personalize these items with stories of survivors, or women who have passed on from breast cancer, but were strong in their fight.

I have one piece so far, dedicated to my Great Aunt Irene, who had cancer when she was in her 20's, but its kind of a stretch, because she didnt have breast cancer.

Technicality. I know. I still plan on dedicating one to my great aunt poppy who died from cancer, but fought her entire LONG happy fulfilling life with Uterine cancer that spread throughout her body.

But I would really like to have more stories.

Each item will be dedicated and named after the survivor. The description of the item will include a small bit of her story, and the item itself will be made by me and inspired by her story. When I go to donate the money, it will be given in the name of the survivor.

Please, I know that such things are fragile and sensitive to talk about. Even if you just want to tell me a happy story from this persons life, and her first name, or YOUR first name, and her relation to you. I promise to do my best to celebrate their memory.

Also, just so it's known, even after October is over, any money made by these items will be donated to the same charity. Along with 10% of any proceeds made from any item in my shop that has a pink coloured component.

Thank you.

Do me a favour and remove me from your friends list if any of these statements applies to you.



I am only here because of Never Bashful with Butter/ food pictures.

It really bothers me when you post about your Etsy shop.

I only have negative things to say to you.

I dont really read your journal or anything, I just like having a lot of "friends".




I will be trimming my friends list a lot this week. No threats, nothing bad against the people that get cut, its just that I either dont relate to the topic of your journal, you never talk t me, or you never use your journal.

Thats it. have a great day.

I'm done.

I do not understand why my apartment complex maintenance staff INSISTS on using the loudest leaf blowers on the planet at 8am sharp every Monday morning. LEAVES GATHER ON OTHER DAYS TOO! AND AT OTHER HOURS!

But no, like a fleet of men in black, our maintenance staff of 8 non english speaking men strike up their air blowers, with no logical explaination.

WE DONT EVEN HAVE TREES WITH LEAVES IN THE CENTER OF THE COMPLEX! How are the leaves that they are blowing (which must be invisible, because even at 7:55AM before the leaf blowing commences I have never seen a leaf on my doorstep) GETTING INTO PILES LARGE ENOUGH TO REQUIRE A BLOWER!??!


I mean, don't blowers just blow the leaves around? If we did have a leaf problem, wouldnt a broom be much more effective? AND LESS LOUD?

There have to be some people that live here that work the late shift somewhere. I would be raising holy hell if I were working grave yard and I got woke up by some useless and needlessly loud and annoying, ineffective leaf blowing contraption. ESPECIALLY EN MASSE! EIGHT AT ONCE! OUR COMPLEX ISNT THAT LARGE!

*exhale*

Not to mention...

It is now 9:15AM and they have been blowing the same pile of "leaves" directly in front of my apartment SINCE 8AM. No Kidding. ONE HOUR AND FIFTEEN MINUTES STRAIGHT OF UNNECESSARY BLOWING OF AIR WHEN THERE ARENT EVEN ANY LEAVES!


WTF Apartment complex. WTF.

Hey everyone!

Saturday was my dad's birthday, which means it was also my uncle Jimmy's birthday.

Usually no one gets together, the last few years the excuse was that my uncle moved to Georgia, and we're all in the Pacific Northwest. But back when he lived in Seattle, apparently it was still too far away.

Anywho, it was their 55th birthday, and the whole group of everyone and their kids got together at my Auntie Ellen's hippie commune in Olympia.

So, I took the opportunity to get some photos of them, just to prove to myself and others that they really are identical.

This, is a smile-

My dad is the balding one, my uncle is the one that decided to just shave it all off.

Personally, I think my uncle needs a better tan on that bald head of his, because right now he looks like a cancer patient, His facial hair is also awkward, the chin poof is nearly flesh toned and just makes him look like he's got a chaw in his mouth.

I say that, because he was picking on my dad for his "I always look this frazzled" hair style, which I think makes him look more human, and actually a lot younger.

Either way, if you scroll the page up so both of their heads are covered, they're still freakishly identical.


...Which is why I'm posting this picture.

You know when you're spacing out and not really focusing on anything and you get that sort of "I like turtles" retarded look on your face?

Even their "I like turtles" look is the same-


Frightening.


Also frightening were their birthday cakes-


110 candles lit in one room. They were so hot that it melted the musical element in those Singing candle things, and most candles were melting from the bottom down.

Also, if you notice there is a chocolate cake and a white cake. More specifically, an angel food cake and a devil's food cake.

When my dad and my uncle were little, their mom would make both cakes on their birthday. The Devils food cake for my uncle Jimmy, the Angel food cake for my dad, Johnny.

Even when they're not together, my mom or I make sure my dad has a slice of angel food cake on his birthday, apparently Jimmy's wife and kids do the same for him, only Devils food cake.

Cute huh. The Angel and the Devil. its probably true. Though I bet when they were little they were both little devils.

It was a cold September back in 2001. Cold, but clear, and the sun came out accordingly.

I had gone to bed late on the night of September 10th, after being online talking to friends who even that early were trying to convince me to break up with the guy I was dating. I agreed with them. I needed to break up with him. He was dragging me down... Even more so that he was requiring I drive to Grants Pass Oregon to pick him up after yet ANOTHER failed attempt at a job.

I mean, come on. YOU'RE TWENTY SEVEN YEARS OLD! YOU HAVE A THREE YEAR OLD DAUGHTER! There is no excuse for you to be jobless, carless, living off your dad and your girlfriend- ME- and relying on everyone else around you to fix your problems. You couldnt get a job because you didnt have a car. You couldnt ride the bus because you didnt have money. You couldnt KEEP a job because of your "nerve disorder" which made your hands shake. You couldnt pay your child support or your past due bills, so you begged me to so you wouldnt go to jail.

I was young and naive back on September 10th. I was only dating him because I was convinced no one else would want me. Something my mom, dad, even my church pastor agreed with. He never did anything to make me feel any different either. I realize now that the only reason he continued to drag me through the mud the entire 3 years I was with him because I WAS WITH HIM and he had found someone to use. He used me for my car, my time, my money, even though I had barely any. And I went along with it because I couldnt do any better, or at least because I was afraid to try.

I checked my email one last time and found the strangest thing. An email from an unknown address with a bunch of stuff written in another language. The only words  I recognized were "airplane" and "New York".  A chill ran down my spine, but I didnt know from where. My computer was on a low table next to my bed so I had been sitting on the floor for too long.... yeah, that was it.

Sleep came slowly that night. The next morning  I had to be up at 5:30am (it was midnight already) so I could get to work at 7am. I was only going to work until noon, then I was off on the long, boring drive to Grants Pass to pick up the loser I was dating because he quit the job he was offered after a week. He said he couldnt handle being away from me. I wasnt inclined to believe him, and I wished this roadtrip would be to recover something better than the other half of my relationship. I would have settled on picking up my own pieces rather than his.

I finally settled into sleep.The window to the right of me was open just a crack, the chill night air was a comfort. My blankets warm and soft, I did not dream.

On the morning of September 11th, 2001 I awoke to the sound of my phone ringing. I forgot to put it back on the stand, so it rang RIGHT in my ear. I answered. It was my mom-

"Get grandma. I need to talk to grandma"
"mom, grandma is asleep"
"Andrea, you dont know that. Go get grandma"
"ok, hold on a minute. I need to put pants on, then I'll wake her up"
"NO ONE CARES IF YOU'RE WEARING PANTS ANDREA! WAKE UP GRANDMA"

The sound of my moms voice reached a level I'd not heard before. In all the years I've been my mothers daughter, she had never used that tone. Other angry tones, sure. but not this one. I did not put on pants.

Walking briskly from my bedroom to my grandma's, which was at the other end of the house- My mom continuing to tell me to hurry and give grandma the phone. She was in the bathroom and told me not to come any farther down the hallway because the door was open. Ha.. My family and our peeing with the bathroom door open. I always wondered where I got that bad habit from...

She asked me what my mom wanted.
I asked my mom what she wanted.
"I want to talk to grandma. Its important."

"Grandma, she wants to talk to you, its important"

My grandma said the funniest thing in reply.. at least it seems funny now, a little ironic, actually.

"If its that important, It'll be on the news later! I'm going back to sleep"
I relayed the message to my mom.

"Well, tell grandma an airplane just hit a big building in new york. Turn on the TV!"
Chills, again. "Airplane", "New York"... I turned on the TV. I hung up the phone.

They replayed the film over and over that morning. It was hard to pry myself away to get ready for work, but I went. All of the radio stations had begun playing a national emergency station. There was no music that morning. If someone had played Don McLean's American Pie, it would have been very fitting.

I drove into work. It was before store hours, so the front doors were locked. I knocked and knocked and knocked, and finally, Becky the receiving clerk came to let me in. She looked concerned. If there was anything I knew about Becky, it was that she was NEVER concerned.. also, she hated me. She threw open the door and embraced me. She had a friend in that first tower. Her husband was traveling on the East Coast.  Unable to reach anyone, including her husband, she held it in. She was already at work when it happened, and she managed to maintain the "tough woman" facade until she saw me, standing at the door.  

I hugged her back, and between muffled sobs, she talked about her friend. She said her husband could have been on the plane that hit, but  she didnt know. She couldnt be sure. Her sobbing grew more wild and she nearly screamed at God for what was happening. I had no idea what to do, so  I just stroked her soft blonde hair and told her it would be alright. It would be alright... A woman that had hated me for the previous 3 years... basically since she met me, was reduced to crying in my arms, screaming and wailing because she didnt know what to do.  It would be alright.

She finally stood up, wiped her tears, inhaled sharply and without a word, turned and walked away.  Able to enter the building, I locked the door behind me and started towards the breakroom.

Everyone was crammed into the breakroom that morning. Huddled around the tiny tv, perched on the few chairs available, or leaning over the backs of others just to see. I shuffled past and hung up my jacket, put my purse in my locker and put my apron on. I would wear my "Hope" nametag that day. Others shared the sentiment and my manager changed her name tag to read "Faith".  The store would be opening soon, so I clocked in and made my way to the front. I didnt make it very far before hearing a collective scream, and Anthony the stock boy shouting "Oh my God". The second plane hit the second building while they were watching. They saw it live on the TV.  The store was supposed to be opening, so I kept my composure and walked to the front. I did not think today would be busy. I wanted to be in the back staring at the tv along with everyone else. I straightened bags and dusted the flower arrangements. I windexed the counter tops and the windows.

No customers.

I straightened and stuffed, sanitized and organized. Every few minutes Kari in the back would shout up aisle 5 the latest news flash. A customer wandered in a few minutes later. A veteran who was also a store regular. Always buying wood shapes and wood burning supplies. I talked to him a lot over the years I'd worked at that store. He shared with me stories of his days in the navy. My Grandpa was in the navy. I never met my grandpa. When this man told me stories I would pretend it was my grandpa sharing his stories with me.

Today he shared no stories. He bought no woodworking supplies. He bought a single american flag pin and said "You know, these thing are gonna be flying off the shelves  now." paid, saluted and left. He was my only customer.

Finally another girl came in and I didnt have to be a cashier anymore. I was supposed to be back in my classroom, where I could hide in the supply closet and pretend I was doing something productive or planning a birthday party or something.  

I went to take my break, and was glued to the TV. Then I went back to my classroom and started to think of what red white and blue project I could work on.

I made foam flag pins and then started stringing red white and blue beads onto stretchy string. I used letter beads and put words like "hope" and "peace" and "compassion" on the string with the beads. I kept doing it.. it was like therapy.

At some time around 11:30, my boss came in and told me that I could go ahead and go home. There were no customers. Half an hour early was fine for me. I had wished I didnt have to drive so far away to pick up someone I didnt want to see. But I was being selfish. I wanted to be surrounded by family, and he was somewhere he didnt know anyone at all. I got in my car and started driving southward.

It was late when I finally found my destination. Rob nearly dove into my car when I pulled up, greeting me with "what took you so long?" rather than "thanks for driving 5 hours to pick up my loser ass", which is what he should have said.  I didnt respond. I listened to the radio, and I needed to find a gas station.

I was shocked when I finally was able to locate a gas station. $6 for gas? It had only been $1.30 before.  I had to get gas though, so I filled up. Got back in the car, finished driving home. Well, to Robs house.

He kept talking but I wasnt listening. After a long long 5 hour drive back, it was almost midnight and I was tired, cranky, hungry and feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders. I dropped him off at his dads house, and he asked me to come in. I'll admit, I was weak. I wanted an escape. I wanted the world to go away. I went into his house. His dad was freaking out, and very drunk. We scuttled by, and went to Robs room.

I could not believe he had the audacity to even HINT that he wanted to have sex with me. I left. I didnt even bother using the front door, I just left out the side door. I couldnt handle this.

I got in my car and drove and drove and drove. I ended up at my friend Matt's house, and sat in the car crying in his driveway. He must have recognized me, because he came out and got in my car and threw an arm around me. My life was falling apart, the world was falling apart. I was trying not to be selfish, but I couldnt stop thinking about how much I HATED Rob. Two Airplanes ripped a hole in New York city, and I was complaining because I didnt have the balls to break up with my boyfriend.

Matt and I pulled an all nighter at Dennys that night. Talking about life, the world, fears, worries, how I was a wuss, and how he wished I'd just leave Rob because I could do better. Random Dennys patrons joined us throughout the evening. Drinking bottomless coffee swill and occasionally ordering seasoned fries or a slice of pie, talking about the world, world affairs, the president...

Sometime around 5am we left, I drove Matt back to his house and I went back to mine. It was September 12th, and I was afraid to go to sleep for fear of what I would wake up to.

Tonight, Aaron and I will go swimming at 8pm. It is freezing cold out, and hopefully the water will still be heated. Tomorrow is the last day that the pool is open. *pout*