cranky pixels

Yeah, I re-did the site again. It’s pretty, no? What with all the pink and the scribbles. That’s what it’s like inside my head these days. Pink and scribbles. Wait, that sounded weirdly porny. Okay, scratch that – it’s just that pink is the color of the future (yeah, that’s it) and scribbles are…

Whatever. It’s redesigned. Took me all damn weekend, too.

I’ve also got video (whee!) down there in the lower right. Now you don’t just have to settle for me bitching and whining in print: you can also hear my dulcet voice! I know, you are overcome. Don’t speak.

There’s still some tweaking to do on the site design, so if you notice any particularly egregious errors please point them out in the comments. I apparently can’t be bothered to check the site on a PC, so IE people, I’m looking at you.

Not So is at SXSWi. I? Am not. He promises to get swag for me, though. Swag makes everything okay, even seven straight days of solo parenting.

Which is not as bad as all that, actually – Not So has been gone since Thursday morning, and today was kind of okay, as far as days go. (Note that I am skipping merrily over Thursday and Friday. This is not unintentional.) The kid and I went for a walk, did a little shopping…and before you get all eye-roll, keep in mind that my kid? LOVES to shop. Seriously. If we walk by the mall and don’t go in, he will throw himself toward the door with all his strength, wailing like we’re killing him. He is a weird kid. But yes, so, we shopped, and then we came home and he actually ate food, and then he took a marathon nap. Good day!

I had this ridiculous idea that I’d be able to get some writing done while Not So was away, but either all my writing talent has dried up or I just don’t have the wherewithal to concentrate when I am On Call. Which is…lame, right? How many single moms can produce an amazing array of matching words while toddler-wrangling? Anne Lamott comes to mind, but that’s just because of Operating Instructions; other moms do it all the time. Other moms, but not me. I feel so scattered and kind of brain-dead, and everything I’ve written in the past couple of days has been flat as week-old soda. (I do not say “pop.” This is because my parents raised me right.)(Shush, you can recognize hyperbole when you see it.)

The house, though, is quite clean, and I’ve taken two (two!) baths today, so all is not doom and gloom at chez Cranky. I miss Not So, and Ellison’s having a hard time sleeping, but we’re good. It’s taking a lot of energy for me to make progress on the projects we’ve got deadlining for work, but part of that is just that we got a new desk at the house – and, while I love it unreasonably and it totally serves its purpose (namely, to make the damned computer less of a focal point so I don’t spend my every waking moment on it), it’s not exactly conducive to marathon work sessions. Then again, neither is the toddler. Good thing we have an office!

Next year, I am totally going to SXSW, though. Even if the kid has to come with us.

Okay, the hell? I was in the bathroom washing my hands when I glanced in the mirror and saw a huge swollen lump on the bridge of my nose. Bug bite? Wasn’t there when I woke up, and I think I’d have noticed a bug on the bridge of my nose, even if I hadn’t had my coffee yet. Zit? Did not respond to squeezing (and yes, I tried).

Decided the wisest course of action would be to ignore it so it would go away.

Two hours later it’s still there…except now it’s spreading. The corner of my eye is all puffy and swollen. WTF?

Getting sick is stupid. I had all these grand plans for today, some of which involved the shopping for and buying of shoes (but most of which were work-related, as per usual), but now I’m sitting at home with a sore throat and an aching ear. You’d think, how nice, you get to go home when you feel under the weather, that must be a great perk. And you’d be right, if said home did not contain a) a tantrum-y two year old and b) a week’s worth of chores which I overlooked during last week’s frenetic deadline-fest. I say “I” not because all the chores are belong to me, but because apparently if I don’t point out things like the overflowing diaper champ and the fact that there is half a piece of pizza just sitting on the counter they don’t exist. (To be fair: it’s not like I took a lot of notice of the state of the house last week, and Not So has been really stressed out lately. I’m just saying: home. Sick. Cleaning. What’s wrong with this picture?)

I don’t have time to be sick, is what it really comes down to. There is no room in my schedule for illness. I don’t even have time for a haircut, for crying out loud, and I actually want to do that. Clearly, clearly, this means I can skip the whole virus thing. I have stuff to do! Stuff that is not being sick!

Speaking of stuff, Not So thinks we should take an ad out in one of the weeklies for couldbe studios. I think he’s certifiable. Has he looked at my schedule lately?

It’s never good when you look at a picture of yourself and see an uncanny resemblance to Jocelyn Wildenstein.

In other news, the Wellbutrin seems to have quietly and unceremoniously gotten rid of my social anxiety. However, the “Metabolic Advantage” pills seem to have ramped my anxiety into high gear (and – possibly – pushed my crappy self-image into body dysmorphic disorder territory). Oh well. You win some, you lose some. Although, speaking of losing, I do not seem to be miraculously shedding pounds. This could have something to do with the fact that I keep eating dessert, but I don’t think so.

So I’m doing the February Crafty Mamas Bazaar at Milagros. I haven’t done one in a looooong time, so it should be really fun. ‘Course, it means I need to make more toys, which (in turn) means I need more felt. Lots more felt. More felt, and more batting. Hello, shopping list!

I’d update with something substantive, but I’ve had this same damned headache for more than a week, and I’ve got to tell you, it’s lost much of its charm. And so have I! Plus, my kid just scribbled all over our new couch with a pen, and the atmosphere in my house is now somewhat strained. Bah. This is what we get for having a sand-colored couch and a toddler, all at the same time.

Maybe I will crochet today.