eBay Sale

You guys, I’m selling some crafty products on eBay, meaning products I crafted myself, as well as a few other things. Feel free to look at them or to ignore them, as you please. Either way, it won’t hurt my feelings. I just have to sell things periodically so I can continue to write off my craft supply purchases on my taxes. It’s a sickness, I know.

For sale:
bracelet with dangling pastel beads
carnelian and red agate necklace #1
carnelian and red agate necklace #2
rhodonite and rose quartz necklace
bronze and pink freshwater pearl necklace
pink and gray dangly pearl necklace
pale jade necklace
green wood bead necklace
amber earrings
silver ring
amber ring
garnet ring
silver cuff bracelet
vintage cross pendant
that painting I did a while back, of the woman

There you go. Happy browsing.

Get Rich Quick Scheme

The other day I saw a People magazine, and its cover gave me an idea. So I turned to my son who has Asperger’s, and I said, “Hey, Dallas, how would you like it if Mommy wrote a book all about your Asperger’s and how tragic it is and how dramatic it’s made Mommy’s life? And then Mommy could go on book tour and make a lot of money?”

My son said, “More money than you make writing fiction?”

I said, “Way, way more.”

He said, “Would you tell heart-rending personal stories about your strength, your struggle, and your survival that would embarrass me, later, when I’m old enough to understand them fully?”

I said, “Maybe. Then again, maybe not, since you do have Asperger’s. Maybe you’ll never fully understand, or else it simply won’t hurt your feelings. We can always hope, but either way, we’ll make money. Don’t forget the money.”

He said, “Will you use the money to buy me a PS3, an XBox 360, and a bigger TV?”

I said, “Of course I will, honey.”

He said, “Then sell our story, Mommy. Sell it away!”

Just kidding. That conversation never took place.

[Edited to clarify: Hey, everybody. This segment of the entry is referring to Jenny McCarthy, as featured on the latest cover of People magazine, promoting her book about her personal struggles with her kid’s autism, and the power of Jim Carrey’s penis helping her through it.

This segment of the entry is not about my long-time fellow blogger and author Rob Rummel-Hudson. For the record, although I’ve been catty in my time, I’m not catty/lame/rondo enough to hate on Rob on my blog, while linking to him and Facebook-friending him at the same time. If I thought Rob was selling out his kid for money, I wouldn’t link him or Facebook friend him. C’mon, people. Y’all should know better than that.]


On the way to work, I pass a company that performs a very specialized service for other companies. It’s not a service that I’ll ever need, but I always stare at the company and remember its name, because it has an inspirational marquee. Know what I mean? They have one of those LED signs on which the owner has chosen to put a different motivational saying each day.

Weirdly, although I normally ignore crap like that, this marquee frequently inspires me. Like, one day, a while back, it said something like “If you knew you wouldn’t fail, what would you attempt?” Something like that — poorly worded, but it got the point across. What would I try to do if I knew for certain that I wouldn’t fail? I thought about it until the end of my commute.

Usually, I end up thinking about the owner of this company and what his motivation is for providing these thoughts. He could use the marquee for advertisements, but instead, he tries to inspire us all. Why? What kind of person does something like that?

It’s something to think about on a long, long drive.

Dazed and Confused and Swollen

If none of this makes sense, it’s because I’m on drugs, because I recently had surgery, because my teeth are sad and lame, and yet strong and stubborn and constantly having to be messed with by surgical means. I had this jacked-up tooth remnant, under an old crown, and it turned bad, so my dentist (who is the best dentist in the world, fyi) tried to remove it with pliers and such, but it wouldn’t come out because the rotten tooth was holding on with all its might to my jawbone, as all my teeth like to do, apparently…

… and so my dentist was forced to give up, sweatily and reluctantly, and he sent me to his friend, the best oral surgeon in the world, and she removed my tooth (and I told y’all before how she looks sort of like Mimi Rogers, but I never told y’all that she studied dance at the same school, at the same time, as Madonna!), and it went as well as possible, but now I’m kind of achy and drugged up. Bleh.

Oh, well, that’s life, though. My super power is fast healing. My kryptonite is cavity-prone teeth. If teeth being fused to jawbones were a super power of any use, I’d be bragging that I had that, too. But it hasn’t done anything for me yet. We’ll see what happens, though. Maybe one day my stubborn teeth will save the world.

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Posted in Aspergers, health, parenting, venting, writing on 10/01/2007 03:14 am

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