Finished up some journal pages from the post a couple of days ago and a new one-

(I may still do some more to the above one)

Yesterday afternoon I decided I needed to trim my hair. So, I just grabbed a hunk of it and chopped off about 6". Weird feeling. I feel like I'm missing something. Very weird. Scary to look in the trash and see a chunk of your hair like there's a person lying dead in there. Of course, no one noticed even with me saying "Notice anything different?" while I waved my hair around. *sigh*

Tristan and I went to the post office at the Grove yesterday to mail a bunch of packages. I think media mail is now what priority mail used to be. :P

We also hit Barnes & Noble. No new books for me, though Tristan did buy two more of the Indiana Jones books that he loves. And yes, the boy is counting down to the movie. I did buy the new issue of Mary Jane's Farm. Disappointed that it now has ads in it, but what can you do? I usually read it and then cut it up to collage.

Getting ready for my special coptic book class in Simi Valley this weekend. It's a 5 hour workshop. We'll be making TWO journals-a "mock" dummy one to learn the stitch, and then the "Real thing". We'll also be learning and utilizing various NEW mixed media and collage techniques. I'll be teaching a much shorter version of the class a week from today at Stampin' From The Heart. There's room in both workshops, and we'd love to have you join us! I also have plans to teach this Sunday at The Art Bar, my "Snippets" book class (I LOVE this book).

Thankful that it's cooled down (wish the mugginess in the apartment would go away). Munchkin his home sick today, so we're just trying to take it easy.

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Next Wednesday (May 28th), there is a special Will Eisner event at Storyopolis. You do need to RSVP, so please note the details on this page.

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Oh, please. Like I need another reason NOT to fly American.

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Sheesh, as we Irish would say, let's not back up the hearse yet...Kennedy's one of the few in office that I actually like. Cut him some slack and let's hope for the best instead of already burying him, for crissakes.

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A tribute to Roslyn Zinn.

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