Two for Two: Giving COVID the Cold Shoulder

It's official!  The husband and I got our second COVID vaccines this morning!  Before arriving at the Atlantic City Convention Center, we stopped to get gas and saw a truck that said J-CORONA, with the Os filled in to look like suns.  Weird, huh?  Whenever I encounter "coincidences" like this, I know that everything's connected.  Anyway, as with my first shot, I wore a shoulder-baring top for easy access, although this one was more out-of-style cold shoulder than Susan Sarandon off-the-shoulder in Bull Durham.  I still love it, though (as I do the dozen or so others I'm still hanging onto).  

In other fashion news, the husband asked if I brought a cactus wristlet because I was getting pricked, and I said maybe subconsciously, as I carried a (different) cactus wristlet last time!  See?  Everywhere, connections.

Now that I'm fully vaxxed, it's great knowing that in just two weeks I can safely go out if I need or want to.  The first order of business will be scheduling all those long-overdue doctors appointments.  And then maybe, just maybe, I'll feel ready to reopen The Tote Trove!  Last week someone emailed me asking how long I'd be on break (it's been more than a year), and I said maybe until Memorial Day.  I've been updating my site a little, tweaking listings and weeding out the ones that seem past their prime.  It's strange to think about going back to the post office again.  A little scary, but mostly good.  I miss the thrill of seeing an Etsy Transactions email in my inbox, then drawing hearts and rainbows and cupcakes on a padded envelope and stuffing it with something I made that someone wanted.     

So, yeah, now I'm one step closer to rekindling the human element of this crazy arts and crafts venture.  Which is pretty exciting.  

Also, it balances out the mammogram.      

Alternate Universe Curse: Palm Springs King and Kevin

Fancy Fish Necklace

Colorful Cameo Necklace

Dandy Deco Necklace

This weekend, I watched the Hulu original movie Palm Springs, which can be summed up as a weird, nihilistic, West Coast version of Groundhog Day.  It's about a jaded manchild named Niles (a symbolic name if ever there was one) (Andy Samberg) who gets stuck in some mysterious cave while attending a wedding in Palm Springs, and as a result lives that day over and over again.  While trying to hook up with maid of honor Sarah (Cristin Milioti), he accidentally sucks her into the vortex with him.  They relive the day together on repeat, having fun and making bad decisions because, hey, no consequences!  But then Sarah discovers something about the day that she can't live with, and she and Niles must decide whether to remain in the world where time stands still or work to find a way out.  

Now may be a good time to mention that I've always been confused by Palm Springs.  Because it's a desert with a watery word in its name.  Also, when I hear desert I think cacti, not palm trees.  But in a way, this incongruity only makes the oddness of the movie more fitting.  Point to you, Andy Samberg. 

Earlier this week, I watched another movie, Jeff, Who Lives at Home.  It's about another manchild (alert Pee-wee Herman; "manchild" is the word of the day, if not week), only this one is named Jeff (Jason Segal), and he lives in his mom's (Susan Sarandon's) basement instead of in an alternate universe.  Sweet, introspective, and a little naive, Jeff is convinced that everything happens for a reason and that the universe sends him -- and all of us -- messages.  (Ok, maybe he lives in his mom's basement and in an alternate universe).  So, when he gets a wrong number call for someone named Kevin, he does whatever it takes to follow all the people and things named Kevin that pop up in his path that day.  This means spending time with his jerk of a brother, Pat (Ed Helms), which results in a bizarre string of events that lead Jeff exactly to where he's meant to be.

If I'm talking about manchildren who learn something profound via supernatural means throughout the course of a single day, then what's up with these necklaces?  Not much, but as always, I'll use every tool in my arsenal to force some tenuous connections.  

First, the flamingos in this wall art remind me of palm trees, which remind me of Palm Springs (despite there being no flamingos and only armadillos there).  Secondly, the flamingo art hangs in my home, which is also where I made these necklaces (okay, embellished these necklaces, as I just added ribbon-strung beads to already-made vintage pendants).  And finally, home is where Jeff lives. 

I told you it'd be a stretch.  What isn't is that I liked that Jeff believed in something.  And that he was a fellow homebody. 

Which is my way of saying that everything in life -- and in necklaces -- is always connected.

Evergreen Screen, Tinseltown Tannenbaum

Me and 3G have decided to give picture-less posting another try.  Now, usually I use my photos-slash-projects as the basis of my hook.  You know, that thread that, however tenuously, ties all my nonsense together.  So this time -- heads up -- I'm using the pictures in my mind.

Let us consider the Christmas tree.  It's but a pleat in Mother Nature's dark green gown, a relic of the outdoors that we bring indoors and domesticate with acres of lights and ornaments, some store-bought, some handmade, some elegant, some primitive, all of them converging in a joyful jumble that should look ridiculous but doesn't.  Yet even all dressed up, sometimes the Christmas tree misbehaves.  Sometimes it falls, narrowly missing Grandpa as he sleeps off his eggnog; other times it hatches insects and reptiles, reminding us that it's still wild and unpredictable despite our efforts to make it conform to our carefully curated winter wonderlands.  But that's okay.  Because at the end of the (holi)day, it's the crazy that makes it Christmas.

Which is pretty much the message of every Christmas movie ever, including the two I just saw: Daddy's Home 2 and A Bad Moms Christmas.  (See what I did there?  Hook, line, and stinker.) Boys will be boys and girls just want to have fun in these festive family free-for-alls.  No sophomore slumps for these sequels; both assault and then rescue Christmas with all the hijinks and heart we've come to expect from holiday features.  Daddy's Home 2 revisits the blended family blues, this time with a marshmallow of a John Lithgow and a hard-ass Mel Gibson joining Will Ferrell and Mark Wahlberg to stir the Bailey's-spiked hot chocolate pot.  And in A Bad Moms Christmas, Mila Kunis, Kristen Bell, and Kathryn Hahn take a break from being bad moms to deal with having bad moms, namely the trying trio of Christine Baranski, Cheryl Hines, and Susan Sarandon.  Through criticism, smothering, and good old-fashioned neglect, these mamas serve up fare far worse than fruitcake.  Guess Will Smith was right: parents just don't understand.  Well, at least not until they see the light -- on top of the Christmas tree.  Yep, the very same one harboring larvae and snakes, although no such snafu took place in either movie (but, hey, maybe should have).

You know, the last time I blogged about Daddy's Home, I compared it to Sisters.  And I said (something like) "I liked Daddy's Home better, but Sisters taught me more."  Well, this time I didn't learn anything, and I preferred Bad Moms. Which shows, I think, a modicum of personal growth (because it takes guts to admit that knowledge isn't always power), something our friend the Christmas tree knows lots about.

Oh, Tannenbaum, can't wait to light your candle.