Amanda mailed out a round of statements on Monday, with a nice little letter
stating all accounts not paid by December 31 would go to collections on January
1. Apparently, the statements have arrived, because I’ve fielded phone calls all
day of people wanting copies of their invoices faxed to them. Makes me think we
should just enclose copies of the past due invoices and skip the statement part.
Good news is, dear readers, that prayers and karma are working because we’ve
gotten a gazillion checks in the mail this week! Yesterday it was all checks–no
bills, no flyers, no coupons; just a nice pretty pile of checks. That has NEVER
happened. Connecticut store even sent us a partial to hold us off on calling the
feds for a little bit longer. So I’m flyin’ solo; the phone is ringing right and
left with statement questions and last minute Christmas reorders. I checked the
“fax” earlier (actually, all faxes go to my inbox, so it’s just a matter of
clicking send/recieve), and there were a few little printing orders in there. I
love all this little last minute stuff; it reminds me Christmas is right around
the corner and offers a little extra incentive to get some stuff done.

I can’t believe it’s already 3:00 here. Today has been hectic. Amanda flew out
for Thanksgiving at noon, but came in to clean up around here first. She left at
10:30 and I started a zillion bidding wars on ebay, most of which aren’t over.
The amazing, amazing Hope and her friend Dan have installed Movable Type on my
buisness website. I have been trying to jump that hurdle for two weeks now. I
don’t know how they did it. My sister and I dropped by my parents house to give
my mom a vase of flowers for her birthday, and while I was there, I decided to
empty the last few boxes out of their garage, along with my vacuum. I just got
back home, and realized I haven’t done one single thing for work today. I’ve got
proofs to fax, orders to print, one tiny order to package and ship, and now a
car full of boxes to unpack and reorganize. Oh, and the ebay wars–I must win, I
must. Tonight, I have to make a Wally World trip, or Sophie will starve to
death. Thank goodness Drew TIVO’d lost.

Tonight, my parents and I went to a screening for Nicholas Cage’s new movie,
“National Treasure”. Three words: I. Loved. It. I like alot of things. I like
movies. I like critiquing movies. However, I hardly ever come out of a movie
saying, “If I had just watched that at home, I would rewind it and watch it all
the way through again.” This one I would. This one I’m buying the day it comes
out on DVD, and I’m buying a DVD player to watch it, which means I have to buy a
TV that a DVD player can hook up to. I’m not into electronics, so this is
commitment here. My review is simple. I liked the movie for eight reasons:
One, the black dress. I want one, I need one, I have to have it. Literally. I’m
finding out who designed it and I’m buying one to wear to the ballet ball in
January.
Two, it’s about history. And not just any history–American history. And if ever
there was an amature American history buff, it was me.
Three, it’s about treasure. And if ever there was an amature treasure hunter,
again–me.
Four, romance.
Five, non-stop action.
Six, Nicholas Cage. I don’t know why I think he’s hot, but I do.
Seven, humor.
Eight, well written screenplay.
Fine, nine reasons. It’s a totally kid-friendly, no skin, no cussing, family
movie. And unlike most of America, I like that! So, go see it. It’s very Indiana
Jones/James Bond-ish–thrilling and ruggedly romantic, all at the same time. And
watch for the black dress. It will take your breath away.

Last night, Sophie and I shared a plate of pink iced strawberry bread in bed. I
was on the phone with Drew, who promptly reminded me that dogs should not be on
beds, let alone eating pink cake in beds. Oh, but what is life without pink cake
and piles of warm blankets and an oh-so-happy little doggy? p.s. if anyone could
help me with Movable Type, could ya shoot me an email? I’m LOST.

Last week when we were at my sister’s house helping her decorate the Christmas
tree, conversation fell to my current living conditions. Before I go further in
explaning the current conditions to you, let me tell you how different my sister
and I are. She’s two years younger than I am, has been married for four years,
and has two kids: Baylor, 19 mos. and Ford, 9 weeks. Me? No hubby, no kids, one
very darling dog. Despite the fact that most days, my sister goes no further
than the nursery on the other end of the house, she takes a shower, does her
hair, and puts on makeup. EYELINER. Me? Wet hair, pony tail, what’s eyeliner?
She and her husband bought their second, gorgeous home over a year ago, and live
a picturesque life complete with one SUV and one Volvo. They have landscaping
AND a leather sofa. Me? Scrawny little cottage, a bunch of prickly bushes left
over from 1972, no sofa at all. OK, one Volvo, but that’s where the similarities
end. My sister has worked out religously through both pregnancies. They don’t
eat salt or butter. I, on the other hand, can’t remember the last time I even
considered working out, and life without salt or butter would be agony. Hear me?
AGONY. My idea of health food is “not fried”. They keep their home, cars,
children, lawn and furniture in immaculate condition. They are the poster family
for GAP. They are amazing. To boot, I’m smack dab in the middle of a remodel and
done a very good job making friends with the dust bunnies. They don’t bother me
until I spend an evening in her perfect house, decorating her perfect tree,
quite aware that she has no dust bunnies to befriend. I asked her how she did
it. She told me I needed to find a “motivator”. A what? A personal trainer, an
inspiration, a life coach, someone willing to hit me upside the head with a 2×4.
She explained that her “motivator” was her husband. All fine and dandy, I
replied, but I don’t exactly have one of those. “Well, then do it for Amanda;
she practically lives at your house anyway. Or do it for the reward of
self-discipline, the satisfaction that organizing your life brings.” I know
she’s right, but do you know how miserable I’d be without salt and butter and a
ponytail?

and lovers of all things cute…Darling Studio now has holiday cards for sale.

I’m working on Illustration Friday. By the time I get it posted, I’m sure it
will be Illustration Sunday. I just had to pause and share all this cuteness
with you, though.

Drew and I went over to my sister’s house last night to help them decorate
their tree. They put it up early so that they could take pictures for their
holiday card with a tree in the background. They’re perfect that way. I have a
list of six things to do today. The first two are already done; third is halfway
done; numbers 4 & 5 I’ve delegated, number 6 is Illustration Friday. I have the
idea already, which for me, is half the battle. p.s. that’s a picture of my
darling niece!

I tried to take pictures of the highlights, but they kept turning out terrible
just because the six chins I currently have were becoming a dominating focal
point. (Note to self: drop a few before Christmas.). I did turn out this shot,
though, which I very much like, since it represents me in so many ways. (But see
what I’m saying? Ugly–no lipstick!)

The highlights look smashing. I look quite blonder than I have in awhile,
possibly ever. Crazy-ebay-copy-lady is now emailing me copies of every toile
card she finds on ebay, asking if it’s mine. As if I haven’t already looked at
every toile card on ebay. I think it’s quite ballsy of her to come back to the
scene of the crime. I just found NaNoWriMo (DG–go check it out) and am actually
contemplating an attempt. It’s only 175 pages–and I wrote 60 in one night
during high school for a history report. My teacher actually handed it back to
me and asked me to cut it half before he would grade it. Where did I pull it
from? Sophie and I are going to snuggle up on the sofa-bed and watch Lost in a
little bit. I am so addicted to that show. Lost and CSI:Miami. I love Horatio.
It’s like he’s tough, but kind. That’s the perfect combination. Doesn’t take any
bull, but loves with a heart of gold. Amanda got a notice from her apartment
complex today that her rent was 1 day late, so now she has to pay a $75 late
fee. I feel guilty, because while I don’t get a paycheck, I would just write the
amount from the business account. She gets a check every week, but her income is
not as disposable. I wonder if she ever looks at me like, “Man, must be nice to
go get highlights this week.” I told her that if she ever needed highlights,
just to let me know. Surely they’d be a write off for January market.