Wednesday, September 30, 2009

lolz (IMMD edit)

I was working at a special needs day camp and a kid was picking his nose. I told him to stop picking his nose and he said,

“I’m not picking my nose, I’m cleaning my finger.”

IMMD.

Tuesday, September 08, 2009

La Sha LaSha Lasha lasha la sha Ackerman

I remember when we first got the Internet at my house.

After waiting twenty minutes for the loud modem to crank up the AOL Internet Explorer homepage, my Brad gave me and my sister a lesson in computer safety.

Never go into a chat room.

Never download anything.

Don't click anything unless you absolutely must.

Never tell anyone where you live. Not even the state.

Never upload anything, ESPECIALLY pictures.

and never never NEVER use your real name.

(This is the short list, folks. Don't get me started on outdoor safety, travel safety, or fireproof SAFE safety. I shutter to think of all the danger that fireproof safe could have rained down without the solid set of rules involved.)

I don't think my 1992 self would believe that not only do I use my real name (and maybe a couple of variations) but I've got hundreds of pics stored online, and even some video... including this one I didn't even realize existed.It's pretty weird to google yourself and see a video of yourself you've never seen before. This is from the night that I taught my fabric flower technique at Etsy Labs.

The full tutorial is at this post.

Yep, I'm pretty fast and free with the info these days, even my crafting secrets. I could hoard my experiment-burn-melt-ruin-practice-perfect learned techniques (that's what we call learning the hard way) but I don't think there's anything to be gained to keeping it to myself.

Feel free to try it out. Make 'em, keep 'em, give 'em away, heck... sell 'em.

Maybe you could tell folks where you learned how to do that or just subscribe here or something.

Maybe you could even give me a little link on your blog.

Monday, September 07, 2009

Da roof! Da roof! Da roof AINT on fire!

Last night my building was engulfed in a plume of smoke.

Flames soared into the pitch black sky.

Flames from next door.

The Opal was fine.

Completely untouched.

Of course, the people living upstairs who's open windows and a/c suddenly started sucking in copious amounts of gritty black smoke didn't know that.

I'd checked things out next door, and had determined that the 3 dozen or so firemen on the scene had things under control, so I decided to go home and loiter in the lobby.

Within minutes the lobby was filled with frantic women towing toddlers... sleepy little boys rubbing their eyes wearing crooked yamicas... little girls in pink night gowns clutching overloved stuffed bears... alert young men gripping their laptops...

Fearing the worst, people had come out carrying what they loved most.

I was the only one present empty handed...

everything I love most was playing out in the dog run.