Before

I like to do things backwards. I like to start off big and then come back to the small things. It doesn't make the best business sense, but I'm a chemist, not a business person. 

For instance, most women become mothers after they have been wives.  Not me!  Yes, Miss Valedictorian and Full-Ride College Scholarship got knocked up before I got married.  Shocker, right?  It seriously was.  My then boyfriend (we weren't even engaged!) and I were having a few problems. A semi-long distance relationship and a jealousy streak rocked us a bit.  For me to focus on school and maybe live a little, I had planned on breaking up with him the next weekend I was home from UK.  Turns out the reason why I couldn't lose weight and I had to take a nap every day was from the pregnancy hormones.  A positive test the Wednesday before I was going to break the news stopped me from doing so. 

It was so fucking hard to realize this.  As a person that grew up with two parents that bickered constantly and fought every single night whether they were married or not, I had resigned myself to never getting married, let along bring children into the mess.  I was in the middle of my junior year of college and here I was, with a growing belly and no ring on my finger. 

Alex proposed to me the next Friday while we were at the Kentucky Horse Park under the Man of War statue.  It was actually very romantic.  We've been married for three years so obviously it's working so far.  By the way, I did not get married while I was pregnant. I was not going to share my wedding dress with my son.  How embarrassed would he have been?

I continued to go to school at UK, but had to quit my job as a resident advisor.  I got an apartment in a trashy part of town for a few months then moved back home.  I commuted to UK (about an hour and a half drive) two days a week.  I took a nap in my car and tried my best to fit in the tiny college desks.  Do you know how excruciating it is to sit for 50 minutes when you have forty extra pounds of water and baby resting on your bladder and hips?  And watching the thin sorority girls that you used to look like, walk past you and not meet your eyes?  The boys that would laugh watching you try to scoot into a desk?  It wasn't exactly the easiest time, but it was my fault that it happened.  I wasn't blaming anyone besides myself. 

The hardest thing about it was being different.  For the first time, I stood out in a crowd. I was the little white girl with a huge belly whose ankles were so bloated, she was embarrassed to sit down for fear her cankles would show.  I had an identity crisis.  People saw the beach ball, not me.  They saw the ring, but didn't see the wedding band.  Everyone was judging, weren't they?  I was a pitiful mess.

Then, Xander came into my life.  I gave birth to a HUGE little boy and he was mine to love and to take care of and fuck everyone that judged, I was a MOTHER! My belly may not be a six pack and flat, but I've got stretch marks, a big fat scar, and a pooch that tells everyone that I gave up my body to bring my vibrant and extremely energetic son into this world. 

I finished school with reasonably good marks and graduated with my chemistry degree.  I did it as best as I could because I wanted to provide for my son.  And for his little sister that we found out about 11 months after Xan was born. 

I don't think being a mother is easy at any point in life.  It was, however, the best thing that has ever happened to me.  It made me reorganize my priorities and work harder for things that needed to happen.  Would I be in the job that I'm in right now, own two cars and a house, and be able to afford to start my own  business on the side?  I know that I wouldn't be in this position.  My son changed my life and I'll be forever grateful to him.

That's why I will wipe his butt until kingdom come. I love you, Xander. 

Why Can't My Husband Think Ahead?

Is it really difficult to think about what might happen in the future?  I mean, Harold Camping had the foresight to think that if the rapture didn't happen on May 21st, then how would he go about keeping the money that people had given him?  "Oh, we'll just move this rapture thing back a few months," he thought.  Simple.  If a fucking crazy idiot like Harold can do it, then my intelligent and young husband can do the same.  Well, SHOULD be able.

I'm allowed to rant, so if you seriously do not want to hear this, then you may move on.  You get a 'get out of jail free' card, to use the over-used monopoly expression.

This week has been a truly crazy week.  My online blanket business - sewchem.etsy.com - has consistently gotten at least one sale a day for this month (which I think is pretty awesome!), so on top of trying to keep the house relatively clean and the laundry at least washed and dried, I'm trying to do at least three blankets per night.  Now let's throw into the mix my favorite (and only) girly nurse cousin, Lindsay, coming home after being away for 8 months in Washington at a military base, her bachelorette party, and her wedding this Saturday (four hours away!).

Knowing how nuts this week was going to be, I set out a schedule of things that needed to be accomplished by Friday morning when we would leave for the wedding.  Blankets until Wednesday, bachelorette party Thursday and pack after that.  I offered to be the DD for the Bach. party, so I needed to clean out  my van.  Hubby owes me a favor so I ask him to clean it out Wednesday night after the coming-home party.  Note: I sent a text Wednesday and I asked him *straight to his FACE* if he would do it for me that SAME night. 

He didn't do it. 

I bought him a phone Wednesday so that he would stop complaining about it his current one and he had to look up every single YouTube video about how to work his new cell phone (he doesn't have it yet, mind you).  I cleaned out the van on my lunch hour the following day and did not get to eat.  So, yes, I'm a bit beyond pissed at this point.

I send him a text and the convo goes as follows (I don't use proper punctuation when I'm upset):

Me: Thanks for cleaning out the van last night
Him: Really.  I am doing it tonight.
Me: I asked you to do it last night
Him:  We were at your freaking mom's until after nine.  I didn't feel like vacuuming the car in the dark with all of the bugs eating me alive.
M: That is ok.  I did it during my lunch hour and didn't get to eat
H: Well that is your fault. Sorry I didn't do it late last night. I was going to do it today after work.  Thanks for being patient.

OH MY FUCKING GOD.  If it was legal to kill my husband, I would so fucking do it at this point. I was livid.  Livid!  I wanted to go Kung Fu Panda on his testicles and shove a pineapple up his ass.  Then throw him into a pit of hyenas after cutting his wrists with razor blades.  Have you ever felt that kind of anger and hatred towards someone that you're supposed to love?  No? Just me.  Ok then.

Apparently, he had forgotten that I was DD.  If I had just reminded him (a third time), he would have done it. 

And then, to top it all off, we didn't get home from the bachelorette party until after midnight.  I still have to pack the kids' clothes and steam my dress for the wedding.  Guess who's asleep on the couch with the TV still on and NONE OF HIS CLOTHES PACKED?  Could it be my husband?  Could it be that he didn't think ahead to the weekend where he would need clothes and shoes and toiletries and all of that good stuff when we would be 400 miles from our house?  I had to work at 7 in the morning and wouldn't have time to pack or do anything because I was leaving straight from work to go to the wedding city.  It had to be done that night.

He called me irrational for being upset because I didn't tell him to do it.  I didn't tell him to pack his clothes for the weekend that we would be away.

If I'm in prison for the next few lifetimes, you'll understand why.

Men, I know you hate when women nag at you to do things.  That's why I made a vow to never do that to my husband.  I did not want to be the nagging wife.  Yet, if I don't, he'll never get anything done or accomplish anything that doesn't involve his motorcycle, mowing the lawn, or organizing his workshop.  How do I approach him to do the things that need to get done?  I've had this conversation/argument with him before.  I've asked him nicely to do things and it works for a few days but continually slopes back to where he does nothing.  I'm tired.  I can't do it.  I have to make a list of things for him to do and I don't want to.  Why can't he just KNOW what needs to be done? 

Hello, Mom

My mother has found my blog.  It's all over for me, people. 

I came into the house yesterday after work and she came up the stairs, half-laughing and half-crying.  I wasn't sure what to think and then this tumbles out of her mouth..."I found your blog."

Well, shit.

I'm happy to know that I have at least one reader, though. 

Mom, thank you for everything that you've done for me since I was born, including nursing me, teaching me to sew, and driving me to swimming, academic team, winterguard, softball, marching band, jazz band, pep band, and everything else I was involved in.  You're my homey-g-dog and I love you.  Hopefully that makes up for everything stupid I said about you.  Forgive me and I'll buy you an Emerson's cake.  M'kay?  Okay!

Ee-gad.

Am I the only person in the world that thinks that midnight blue and black just don't go together? 

Like this god-forsaken, shapeless dress...

And these shoes.

I'll be wearing this to my cousin's wedding.  I guess it's true about the bride wanting her bridesmaids to be uglier than her.  She is going to ROCK that show. 

Her bridesmaids will look like old maids.  My 19-year old sister that has a bangin' bod' will look like a square.  I'm changing into my halter dress and hot pink wedge heels as soon as we hit the reception.

Sha-bam!

Now that's what I want to wear!

Going Crazy

I'm having a hard time being the jack of all trades and master of none.  It's starting to wear on me.

Obviously, working full-time and raising two young kids is no easy feat.  Waking up at 6 a.m., getting ready for work, working nine hours, picking up the kids, making dinner, getting them ready for bed and trying to get some housework done is beyond exhausting.  My oldest, Xander, is even starting to use the word 'Exhausted'.  I suppose I say this too much to him, because, yes, his nearly 3-year-old energy (on top of everything else) is exhausting. 

And it's almost his birthday, so I have to clean my house (that's going to take a week), make his birthday presents, and figure out some fun games to play.  Oh, and the dinosaur cake!  That's going to be awesome!  Last year, I made cow and pig cupcakes and a huge farm complete with barn and silo.  This year will be stegosaurus and T-Rex.  I have to figure out some dinosaur cupcakes.  Any ideas?

To add to everything, my business is actually doing pretty well.  At the end of January, I started  my own on-line business SewChem on Etsy.  It's awesome and I get to do everything that I love, but holy Jesus.  I have a hard time keeping up with the orders, messages, and custom requests that my customers want.  I made a nearly impossible deadline for each blanket, three to seven days, especially if I have more than two orders. 

My husband also believes that I'm not selling my blankets for enough.  The hours and care that I put into each item is considerably more than what I sell it for. The materials aren't inferior, the skills aren't inferior, it's just what I think people will agree with and buy from me.  I agree with him, but everytime I try and change the prices, I give myself sticker shock.  My mind reels when I come up with these numbers and I say to myself, "There is no way I would buy this blanket for this price! If I wouldn't, who else would?"

In all reality, someone else would.  It's just finding those people and marketing to them.  But, if I market to them, I feel like I'm leaving out the people that just want something really nice for a reasonable price.  People like me. 

I take three hours out of my day to size, embroider, hem, and sew the perfect blanket.  And I sell it like I'm some Asian sweat-shop child (although my new hair cut makes me look like a 12-year-old and it's not exactly cool in my sewing studio).  I did analyze my motivations behind my prices and it wasn't that difficult to figure out, although I'll never tell my husband - I think I sell for what I do because I want to keep sewing.  I don't want to have to stop and clean my house constantly, like before.  I want to have a hobby that is all mine and know that I can contribute to the baby shower which happens frequently in my large Catholic family. 

So, the prices are staying where they are.  I like what I'm doing even if it only brings in enough money to pay for the electricity to run my four sewing machines.  (I know, I know.  But I use each one!)

It's difficult finding a balance between an affordable price and the RIGHT price.  Just like it's difficult balancing work, kids, husband, and sleep. 

Whoa!  Sleep?  What is that?

Today Is a Random Day

I have a few things going on that I need to get out of my head.  That's why I have a blog.  Not so much to get the readers (though if you do read any of this, which doesn't seem likely, then Thank You!), but to put down some mildly cohesive thoughts so that I can visualize them and really see what I mean.  It's fun to analyze in hindsight. 

The biggest thing jumping on my brain is a job offer to one of my previous companies (let's call it company S).  Note: I haven't worked in many companies (three to be exact) because of college and babies and I'm not quite old enough to have changed careers...yet.  I've only been in my current position for eleven months (at company M).  The job that I had before was with a temp agency because no company was hiring chemists during the slump of the economy.  I worked at company S for eight months, with a five-week break to birth, nurse, and bond with my daughter.  They continually e-mailed and called, making sure I was coming back. It's safe to say they liked me. 

When I was offered my position at Company M, my boss at company S quit and wanted me to interview for her position.  Then the temp agency called and said they had a lab manager opening for full-time hire.  Bah!  I was pulled in three different directions at once.  Ultimately, I decided to go to company M because it was exactly what I wanted to do and would be making a lot more than my then current position at company S.  It was a secure job and doing exactly what my degree was meant for. 

Now, I'm again at those cross-roads.  Company S has another job opening for A LOT more than what I make now and it's the same distance from home and the same work hours as my current job.  The director of research called me and asked for my resume and when I was available for an interview.  (See, still safe to say they liked me.)

Sounds like a no-brainer, but it's not. I wouldn't be blogging about it if it was.  The work that they do is not anything like what I'm doing now.  They only instrument I would ever touch is an instrument that measures elasticity.  No ICP, moisture, SEM, PSA, GC, FTIR...nothing.  I'd be at a computer typing in formulas and making new formulas.  Possibility of a lot of travel as well. 

What to do (if I do get offered the new position)?  Do I negotiate my salary at my current job?  Do I go ahead and take the new job offer and if I don't like it, quit after a couple of years and go on to bigger and better things?  My current company is very sensitive to the economy.  The previous company (or new company?) flourished during the recession. 

I wish I could do both.

On another note, I have a craft show in a month and my son's birthday in a month.  His party is the day before my craft show which could turn into a disaster.  But, hey, I did it to myself. No one else to blame but this gal here!  Der. 

This weekend, hubby and I are going away.  We're booting it out of town sans kids.  It's going to be AWESOME.  He isn't letting me take my serger.  Butt face.

Purchasing a Scanning Electron Microscope (SEM)

Being new to my company, new to microscopy, and new to purchasing, I have been given a tremendous responsibility by my company.  I'll be deciding on which electron microscope to purchase by next Friday.  Over the past six months, I've travelled all over the country looking at microscope vendors, EDS vendors, and workshops trying to cram as much information as possible into my tiny brain. 

So far, after gathering my notes, I have learned that I did a horrific job on comparing images from vendor to vendor.  In a SEM (scanning electron microscope), there are a lot of things that can affect your image and how well it is in focus.  You can have different accelerating voltages, pressure environments, working distance, spot size, and magnification, etc etc.  If you are going to compare a vendor's instrument to another vendor's instrument, these conditions all need to be the same for each sample. 

Let me repeat:  take the SAME samples and test them in the exact same environments.  Like your own personal little recipe.  I wish I had figured this out BEFORE I sat down and started to realize what a dumbass I am.  Either way, I was lucky enough to capture a few images in the same environment of each sample.  Thank God. 

And don't be fooled by the best dinner.  Although, the seafood in Massachusetts was a lot better than in Portland.  But the asparagus....right, microscope.  Not food. 

Make or Break month

The beginning of each new year seems to be filled with hope and aspirations.  Resolutions to fight off a few bad habits, lose some pounds, have more sex, try new things, ya know...spring cleaning for your mind, body, and soul.  All of these are great aspirations and something that mostly we'd really like to succeed in doing.  We wouldn't have made the resolution without that hope, right?

So it seems pretty sad that before the end of January (fuggadebout February), 8 out of 10 people will have already failed with their resolution(s)*.  I'm not one of those people that make resolutions very often (I'm Catholic, so lent is so close to New Year's that I feel like I'm already making enough sacrifices so will you get off  my back already?) so I can only speculate as to why people fail at their resolutions. 

Maybe they don't have the right support network, or deciding to quit smoking cold turkey was not the best decision especially when you're so irritated that the cat just stepped in front of you while you were walking that you punted it down the hallway and laughed when it slid five feet into a door (my Nanny did this and this is one of the funniest memories that I have of her.  I like cats, people, but this was funny.).  Perhaps you didn't have the highest hopes of actually achieving your weight loss goal because that damn Snickers bar is just way too yummy (I completely agree with you on this one).  Whatever the reason the resolution failed, I believe it is partly not your fault. 

Nature is completely trying to fuck you over.

Up here in the northern hemisphere, it's cold.  Winter kinda sucks.  The daylight is short and people just can't drive in the snow, which is so stupidly frustrating.  I get depressed because the kids are stuck in the house and after awhile, the smell of Play-Do gets to be nauseating and the choo-choos running around in circles drive me a little bonkers.  I am just not that creative to keep my kids busy without shuttling them outside and running off the insane amount of energy that they possess.  So what do I turn to to keep my head on straight?  A Snickers bar.  Something to help release some dopamine so I won't go psycho bitch mom on my kids.  How the hell am I supposed to give up something that can make me happy when there is nothing else in the winter time that can do it?  I'm already depressed and you want to take away my Snickers?! 

Oh, and you want to work on your relationship with your spouse/significant other, etc?  Pfft, good luck with that one!  Divorce, separation and breakups are at their peak in January (for the northern hemisphere - coincidence? I think not).  What do we turn to when the breakups happen?  A Snickers bar! (guys, insert whatever other vice you have here - smoking, eating, drinking, shopping, sexing it up...although that might be one way to achieve the 'have more sex' resolution)

We're doomed to fail!  Ah, the misery! 

Fuck you, New Year's resolutions.  If we made resolutions in May with more sunshine and flowers, maybe we'd all be a size six and be wearing that string bikini with toned thighs.  Yeah, right.

Give me my goddamn Snickers bar. 

*This is unofficial; this estimate is of a general consensus to a lot of unofficial statistics out there.

Scanning Electron Microscope Picture

This is my idea of photography.  

I took this picture ('captured this image' is the technical phrase) with a scanning electron microscope.  This microscope is not the one you have in your high school lab.  For instance, this particle has been magnified 15,000 times its original size. 

It's chemically oxidized zinc.  We think the round particle in the center is atomized zinc.  They melt the zinc, blow it up into the air with nitrogen and while cooling, it turns into a very round shape. This semi-spherical particle may be one that was not milled and so retained its shape.

This picture was taken with a Hitachi S-3400-N instrument.  It's probably the one that we will be buying. Maybe.

My Etsy

For those of you out there that are unaware of the crafty side of the world, there is a website called ETSY.  Etsy is a terrific place to sell or buy handmade or vintage items.  If you have something unique to share to the world, put it on etsy.  They have nearly everything crafty and old.  Some of the people are frickin' creative.  Someone recently told me about a sperm necklace that they found on there...different, but creative.  Can't find what you're looking for?  You can post a listing on Alchemy and people will bid on your listing to make it for you.  Most of the shops, like mine, do lots of custom work.  You want pink minky instead of orange to go with that ivory satin?  Done.  Lime green with black?  Giraffe and Zebra?  Done, Done, Done.

Anyway, I started a shop on etsy called SewChem.  I can pretty much make anything that involves some type of needle and thread.  Note: I also knit.  I know!  Watch out, World! 

Let me start off by being honest with you. I am not a professional seamstress.  I love making things and spending time on doing this.  If no money is to be made in this shop, I could care less.  I LOVE sewing.  I want to make people happy and I want people to see that behind my uber nerdy persona, my lab coat, and safety glasses, I have a fun-flowing creative streak that makes me the happiest person in the world. 

How did this all start?  Let me explain...

My mom was a 4-H agent for agriculture.  We live in Kentucky, people.  We like agriculture.  It's what we do.  Right, so in 4-H, you learn to do everything.  Farm, raise sheep (we did), sew, draw, paint, cook...typical day to day stuff that was awesome.  If there was a workshop being held, you better believe I was there doing it.  Mom was super supportive of us.  Especially when it came to sewing. 

Momma told me about a new workshop that her office was holding about sewing clothes. During this workshop, they would, of course, promote other workshops, summer camps, etc.  But near the end of the hour, they said something about 'fashion show' and 'limousine'.  What?! My little ears were at full attention.  A limo?  Hell, yeah!  After listening in rapture, I found out that I would have to sew three ensembles of clothing for myself and  model them.  We would compete in a district, county and then state competition depending on how well we did at the previous show. And we would get to ride in a limo to the state competition!


After about a week, with the huge help of my mom, we had everything done.  The first piece was a mid-calf dress, A-line, broad tank top style.  It zipped up the back (my first zipper experience!) and the fabric...oh my GAWD!  Let my 4th grade words explain this to you (exactly as I wrote them down and had them announced as I pranced up and down the runway):

"Megan's first piece is a long dress without sleeves. She chose a light cotton fabric.  She describes the color as a purple lightning storm with flecks of blue...a storm across her body."

Seriously? I fucking wrote that. Hilarious!

My next piece was even better.  It was a shorts and halter top outfit with matching head band.  The shorts were elastic waist.  The shirt (gorgeous!) tied twice in the back.  Imagine two sideways letters V's (kinda like this <>) with the touching pieces tied together.  My back was exposed and I felt like the sexiest fourth grader on the planet.  The fabric, another weird choice by my young self, was a tan background littered with pictures of needles, bobbins, thread, and other assorted sewing things. 

My last outfit was pretty normal.  It was pink shorts, a white shirt and a pink vest with a matching head band.  The buttons were pretty cool (green and yellow and blue) on the vest and my mom bought me some special pink shoes to match everything.  My sisters wore that outfit after I grew out of it.  (My youngest sister would be wearing it now, too, if she wasn't a size 16*.)

I was in my height of glory walking the catwalk.  I won first place (against teenagers, people!) and went on to the district competition, where I got second place.  First and second place went to state!  I still got to ride in a fucking limo!  Awesome!

Before the state competition, we had Glamour Shots taken in all of our outfits.  They fed us McDonalds and then rode us in the limo to the competition.  I stuck my head out of the roof over the Ohio River.  I got yelled at, but I was the youngest person there, so I didn't get in too much trouble.  (Suckers!)

Again, I pranced around and did my walking, but by now, the excitement was over.  I got my limo ride and I was happy. I got an honorable mention, and my mom was beyond proud.  She still is.  She keeps those Glamour Shots of me on her sewing table and we love to talk about those outfits. 

Obviously, I'm still riding that high from my first sewing experience. My more recent experiences with sewing have never been detrimental enough to keep me from trudging on.  I sincerely enjoy sewing, the goods and the bads.  Although that whole poking-the-shit-out-of-my-fingers-with-a-needle thing does suck.

If only I could like my kids that much.

Just kidding! Etsy Shop HERE!


*Side note: I do not hate heavy people.  I've been there. I understand.  I'm just saying that she's TEN YEARS OLD and she can't fit in my maternity clothes.  She's the sweetest and smartest girl ever, but she can't fit in my maternity clothes.  Did I say she can't fit in my maternity clothes? 'Cause she can't.

Super Nerds

I have to admit that I am a nerd.  I like to talk about compositions and orientations of fatty acids.  I have a favorite solvent.  I wear a lab coat and safety goggles when I cook (that's chemistry, too, doncha know).  However, I am not even close to a super nerd and I can prove this because you cannot see my socks when I walk. 

In the beginning of November, I attended a scanning electron microscope workshop dealing with mainly trace analysis and x-ray analysis and the National Institute of Standards and Technology.  Very interesting, very cool, but usually boring to outsiders.  (Even my science teacher mother spaced out, although this is usually a normal occurence for my ADD mom.)  I am not kidding and I shit you not, when I say that, out of the 55 people in the room, I was one of only eight women, definitely the only woman under the age of 40, and probably the only one that did not 'ooh' and 'ahh' over the awesome new idea for an EDS analyzer.  Fuck, I wasn't even sure what the hell EDS was. 

Anyway, we had to break for lunch because all of the super nerds' brains needed nourishment.  While walking down the hallway, I noticed one very distinct thing - white ankle socks.  They were everywhere! 
These crazy nerds were wearing Urkel pants! 

BWAHAHAHAHAHA!

During lunch, I came to another, more mathematically centered conclusion:  A person's IQ is exponentially correlative to how much ankle is visible.  My ankles are never visible (and not just because I am short and cannot find pants that don't need to be hemmed at least two inches) so therefore, my IQ is not that high.

It was awesome. Epic.  Hilarious.  Who can concentrate on something so important as an EDS or SEM when you can create a mathematical equation to relate nerdiness to physical appearances?

Buy my blankets so I can take a nice vacation!

I've had this idea in the back of my head for a few months.  It started like a little kernel and then my brain was a microwave and popped it up to the front lobes last week. 

"Megan! Look at me!  Embrace me, love me, eat me!"

And now I am. 

After much planning about prices, items, shipping and materials, I have decided to open my own little internet shop.  On etsy.com. 

My shop will be called SewChem. (I'm a chemist, people. I am not that creative verbally. Let's talk about some fatty acids and hydrocarbons and then I'll get wordy.)

My items?  Minky satin blankets, diaper pouches, knitted slippers, and unique purses.  The purses will range from cute diaper bag removable ones to cute and spunky pleated ones.  I will also try to make placemat purses and totes, but I will see how those go.  Who knows?

So...why in the world would I want to do this? Why, when I have a full-time job, laundry, a stupid house, two cute little kids, and a mildly lazy husband? 

Because I love it.  I absolutely love doing this.  I have never been happier when I am making these items.  Seam ripping crappy stitches? Love it.  Cutting fabric and measuring? Love it.  Witnessing an idea in my head come to life? LOVE IT!  My husband definitely  loves this because one, we're making some extra money, and two, I'm happier.  Happy wife = happy husband!  Win, win, win!

As soon as I finish the pieces, set up the shop, and get going, it will be awesome!

Aaagh! I want to take a week vacation to sew everything. Pictures. Remind me about pictures.

Funny Picture

Sometimes, my zipper has boners.