Pretty Pretty Bang Bang

A friend wrote me about several inappropriate comments she overheard recently so I was thinking this week’s topic could revolve around that.

What’s the most inappropriate thing anyone has ever said to you or that you’ve overheard?

Mine involves people who ask me when I’m going to have children. When I tell them I’m not going to have them, they proceed to ask why. Tired of the discussion, I once told a woman we were unable to have them. She then asked which one of us was unable. Seriously!

Ever feel like the universe is shifting and you can’t hold on? That’s how I feel right now. It seems like people I care about are facing all sorts of things in their lives that they can’t control. One friend recently buried her 30 year-old son. Another (former) friend drove his business into the ground and hurt many people in the process. A call from a friend yesterday informed me that her family is facing cancer again. Her dad died from it just 18 months ago. Still another friend is battling work issues and is uncertain about her future income. Add to that, friends with marriage troubles and you can see how things are shifting.

Not all is bad. Things with Steve and I are great and I think it’s because we need to be the rocks my other friends lean on right now. Yes, I lost my job and that sucks, but I gained some sanity, I’m going back to school and I’m being forced to live more sensibly. Seriously, do I really need 50 bottles of nail polish? Well, sometimes, but you get my point.

To my friends who read this and possibly recognize yourself in this post, please know I care about you, I think of you often and I’m here for you. I might not have much, but I can make you look good while you’re dealing with all this other crap!

I’d probably hit myself in the head with it because I’m so tired. I have my first week of school under my belt (class meets Mon/Weds) and I’m exhausted. We’ve started off with [raising](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Raising_%28metalwork%29) and it’s physically taxing. I spent three hours in the studio yesterday hammering metal. The class is full with nine people so you can just imagine the racket caused by nine people all banging metal against metal at the same time but not with the same rhythm. I wear my earplugs to not only save my hearing, but also my sanity.

There is an upside to this. It’s a cool technique. Yes, it’s really tiring and yes, it takes forever to do, but it’s rewarding. How often do you see a flat sheet of metal become round and raised? I’m currently raising a 7″ disc to 4″ tall, 3″ wide. Plans right now are to cover the outside with cloisonne enamel, but we’ll see how ambitious I feel once I’m done raising and planishing (a technique of smoothing the finished surface) this thing. My thoughts on enameling it change daily. Plus, I have to make a stand for this thing once it’s finished. Part of the assignment is to either make a stand or lid or create surface designs with [repousse or chasing](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Repoussé_and_chasing). Isn’t it fun to know that reading my blog this semester will increase your vocabulary and knowledge of metalwork?

I need a massage. Really bad.

Every time I go to Wal-Mart I swear I will never return. Yet I always do. Tonight we needed some food basics but I also needed a padlock for my locker at school. I had gone to Target (Tar-Jay) earlier in the day and they were out of skim milk (seriously) and had a very small selection of locks. I was hoping for a cool one. So I dragged Steve to Wal-Mart thinking we could get the milk and lock in one trip. I should have known better. First, I couldn’t find any damned locks! What’s the deal with locks being so hard to find? I expected a selection of them with the school supplies (makes sense to me) but they were not to be found so I wandered over to the hardware section. I walked up and down every isle from the hunting section to automotive and couldn’t find anything that resembled a lock. I also couldn’t find a sales associate to save my life. When I finally found one, unpacking pillows in the housewares section, she was less then helpful. She pointed over to the direction of hardware and said, “they’d probably be over there.” I then asked if anyone was in the area as I had not been able to locate said locks and she said, “well, there should be someone over there.” Thanks. I found another elderly woman in a blue Wal-Mart smock helping a college-age man with some hardware. When I approached her about the locks, she stated that she normally didn’t work in this department. I was on fire by now. Then I saw them. The infamous locks. A tiny selection (I thought I was in a SUPER center) located along the back wall. I thanked her for her lack of help and stated that I had found the locks. She then found it necessary to follow me over there to make sure I got exactly what I needed. The answer was no, I didn’t get exactly what I needed (something cool) but these plain, boring Master locks would do. I just wanted the hell out of there. We got our milk, salad mix and some assorted school supplies and we were gone. This time I swear I will never return. Famous last words.

I have a good friend who lives outside Jefferson City with her husband and two kids. We don’t see each other or talk often, but every time we do, I’m reminded of how refreshingly funny she is. She called last weekend when I was in St. Louis and I finally got to catch up with her this past weekend. She’s been a stay at home mom for many years, but has recently gone back to work. She passionately told me about her new job and told me she’d found her calling. As a funeral director. Seriously. Here’s someone I’ve known for years who has been an EMT, bodybuilder, telemarketer, mother and wife and she’s now working towards being a funeral director. The conversation was fascinating and I realized that she’s exactly the kind of person who should be doing this. She’s sympathetic, understanding, kind, professional and passionate. Everyone, regardless of what they do, should feel this way about their work. She said it was something that always interested her so she met with a director at a local funeral home to get information. Two hours later, the man was so impressed by her desire and passion he hired her on the spot and told her he’d train her. Next up, she’s going to learn embalming.

I just love how versatile and interesting my friends are! How many people can say they have a friend in the funeral business? Or that they have a friend who’s a fabulous belly dancer? How about a friend who’s their mom’s age? Or one who’s 15 years younger? Interesting people make for an interesting life.

Here it is, the day before school and I’m already reading my [Silversmithing](http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0801972329/sr=8-1/qid=1156118860/ref=pd_bbs_1/104-6809540-8698342?ie=UTF8) book for class. All this talk of “smithing” makes me think of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow:

Under a spreading chestnut-tree
The village smithy stands;
The smith, a mighty man is he,
With large and sinewy hands;
And the muscles of his brawny arms
Are strong as iron bands.

His hair is crisp, and black, and long,
His face is like the tan;
His brow is wet with honest sweat,
He earns whate’er he can,
And looks the whole world in the face,
For he owes not any man.

Week in, week out, from morn till night,
You can hear his bellows blow;
You can hear him swing his heavy sledge,
With measured beat and slow,
Like a sexton ringing the village bell,
When the evening sun is low.

And children coming home from school
Look in at the open door;
They love to see the flaming forge,
And hear the bellows roar,
And catch the burning sparks that fly
Like chaff from a threshing-floor.

He goes on Sunday to the church,
And sits among his boys;
He hears the parson pray and preach,
He hears his daughter’s voice,
Singing in the village choir,
And it makes his heart rejoice.

It sounds to him like her mother’s voice,
Singing in Paradise!
He needs must think of her once more,
How in the grave she lies;
And with his hard, rough hand he wipes
A tear out of his eyes.

Toiling,—rejoicing,—sorrowing,
Onward through life he goes;
Each morning sees some task begin,
Each evening sees it close;
Something attempted, something done,
Has earned a night’s repose.

Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend,
For the lesson thou hast taught!
Thus at the flaming forge of life
Our fortunes must be wrought;
Thus on its sounding anvil shaped
Each burning deed and thought.

School starts tomorrow and I always view it with mixed emotions. I’m excited to embark on a new adventure, but nervous about the experience. How will I do? Can I do the work? How will I manage my time? Will I be able to keep up with my regular production? You can see where I’m going. Steve calls it “swallowing the elephant.” It’s when I get all wound up about everything at once instead of taking it one piece at a time. At my core, I can be very lazy so the thought of putting effort into school sometimes feels exhausting. On the other end is the fact that I always learn something exciting I can incorporate into my jewelry. This will be my third metals class so the stakes (literally) will be raised. I’ll be exploring new techniques which I hope will lead to new works from the studio. Stay tuned for updates!

Unfortunately, we started our morning attending the funeral of a friend’s son. It was a tragic loss and I really tried to be objective when observing the fashion mistakes I saw, but some are so horrific they cannot go unmentioned. So the next time you must attend a funeral, please keep these things in mind:

1. Black is not required, but respect is. Keep your club outfits in the closet for later in the evening. No halter tops, one-shouldered blouses, low cut neckline or sequins please! And don’t even think of combining any of the previously listed styles.
2. Flip-flops are NEVER appropriate. Seriously, I know you own another pair of shoes.
3. Crop pants and t-shirts are for the lake. At least attempt to dress up.
4. Turn off your cell phones. If you’re a physician and must be on call, at least put it on silent or vibrate.
5. Seriously, you wore jeans?! I know you own pants or a skirt. Or borrow one from your roommate. Ditto for shorts.

These are the worst offenders. I realize the reason for attending a funeral is to show support to the family and pay your respects to the deceased. For those reasons alone, it wouldn’t kill you to dress up a bit.

You know you’re getting old if…

* At 9 p.m. you’re getting ready for bed, not getting ready to go out.
* Anti-aging skin care products become really important in your life.
* You choose your cereal based on fiber content and not because it has a cool toy inside.
* You actually like eating your vegetables.
* College students look really young to you.
* You sensibly stop drinking after two beers instead of when the bar closes.
* You start sentences with, “When I was a kid…”
* You think the driving age should be raised because 16 year-olds are too immature to handle driving.
* You read books to enrich your life, not because they’re required for your class.
* You get out of bed before noon.
* You do your laundry in a timely manner, not when you have nothing clean to wear.
* You make your bed every day because you want to, not because you have to.

You know you’re still young if…

* You buy a McDonald’s Happy Meal just for the toy.
* You go back to college and buy “school shoes” because you can.
* You’re more excited about what’s in your Christmas stocking rather than under the tree.
* You still dream about what you’ll be when you grow up.
* You sometimes eat cereal for dinner and think it’s a great meal.
* Flowers and cards are nice, but you really want a present you can tear into.
* You look at people your age and think they’re old.
* You haven’t planned for retirement because you’re not old enough yet.
* Laying in bed all day reading trashy magazines sounds like fun.
* You sometimes buy new underwear so you don’t have to do laundry.
* You watch cartoons on Adult Swim and laugh hysterically at them.
* You rent movies just because they’re funny, not because they have a message.
* You still eat dessert after dinner.
* You sometimes go an entire day without consuming a fruit or vegetable.

My friend Greg sent me [this link](http://www.nytimes.com/2006/08/17/fashion/17skin.html?ex=1156478400&en=859622e71159dc1a&ei=5070&emc=eta1) to an article in the New York Times on the hot trend of bushy eyebrows. Personally, I prefer a natural brow and think those that are overly bushy look like hairy caterpillars. What do you think?