Life: the best cereal of them all.
I love my grandma! My mom sent her the link to my website yesterday. Today she sent me two emails saying she wants to buy two originals, a bazillion prints, and that she wants to send the link to her friends and would that be okay with me? I LOVE her. Grandma Brewer rules. So does her jello with the fruit inside, but that's another Midwestern food story for another time.
Guess who I'm not loving so much right now. My father, upon learning of my entrepreneurial endeavors - and by the way, I should get an award for spelling entrepreneurial right on the first time, and twice at that - saw the chance to do what he's always dreamed of and live vicariously through me. What an original path for him to take, right? He keeps lecturing me on how I should take a marketing class at Bates, therefore wasting a precious class that could be about art history instead, and that I shouldn't charge anything for less than $20. $20! And when I tried to explain to him how I don't want to be a huge sellout like everyone else in this world, that I actually want people to be able to afford what I make, he lectured me for FORTY FIVE MINUTES. Complete with one story about a blue Low Rider bike he sold as a kid, two oft-repeated catch phrases, and three moments in which my foot shifting disturbed him and he got pissed that I was bored. (Yes. I had to stand through the entire thing.) I mean, I'd be fine with charging rich people who drive SUVs $20 for a print, but NOT people who can't afford it. Maybe I should interview all buyers and ask about their annual income before letting them buy? Har har. That truly would be effective.
My recently-won job at Dog Star, the doggie daycare in the Pearl district, is going great. I work from 6:30 in the morning until noon most days, and 9-5 on Saturdays. I have to walk all the dogs that board there, as well as feed and water them; bathe, groom, and clip the nails of dogs whose owners want the whole bath treatment; take care of ADORABLE cats and baby kittens who can be adopted through the Pixie Project (Dog Star takes in the worst cases from the Oregon Humane Society and nurses them back to health); and - the best part by far - manage the play area, where all the dogs who are boarding or staying for daycare romp around. There are these two Great Danes named Otis and Sterling who are here as part of the Pixie Project. They were found tied up to a stake in the middle of the field, starving. They're really thin, but HUGE. When I'm in the play area, they follow me around and I pet them and coo at them. They're my boys. I would totally adopt them if we didn't already have a really stupid, hyper dog. There's another Great Dane named Hudson who is literally the size of a toy pony. He lopes around and licks the top of my shoulders. There's also Coco, who's the sweetest little chocolate-colored dog ever. She's at the bottom of the social chain in the pack, so she's always on the fringe of the group, but I pet her a lot and she gives me the saddest eyes. I love this job. I love how when I walk through the room, the dogs all follow me and bump up against me and my hands get slimed with the goo of forty wet noses. OMSI? Yeah, fuck you guys. Dogs rule.
That's about it for now. I put a few new things up on the ole website. Check it out! Support me! Join your comrades Cameo, Ellen, and Grandma Brewer in being my first buyers!
P.S. I just want you to know, even if I start charging more for rich people, I will always find a way for y'all to pay what I'm charging right now. I seriously would never have done this without all of you giving me advice and cheering for me.
Guess who I'm not loving so much right now. My father, upon learning of my entrepreneurial endeavors - and by the way, I should get an award for spelling entrepreneurial right on the first time, and twice at that - saw the chance to do what he's always dreamed of and live vicariously through me. What an original path for him to take, right? He keeps lecturing me on how I should take a marketing class at Bates, therefore wasting a precious class that could be about art history instead, and that I shouldn't charge anything for less than $20. $20! And when I tried to explain to him how I don't want to be a huge sellout like everyone else in this world, that I actually want people to be able to afford what I make, he lectured me for FORTY FIVE MINUTES. Complete with one story about a blue Low Rider bike he sold as a kid, two oft-repeated catch phrases, and three moments in which my foot shifting disturbed him and he got pissed that I was bored. (Yes. I had to stand through the entire thing.) I mean, I'd be fine with charging rich people who drive SUVs $20 for a print, but NOT people who can't afford it. Maybe I should interview all buyers and ask about their annual income before letting them buy? Har har. That truly would be effective.
My recently-won job at Dog Star, the doggie daycare in the Pearl district, is going great. I work from 6:30 in the morning until noon most days, and 9-5 on Saturdays. I have to walk all the dogs that board there, as well as feed and water them; bathe, groom, and clip the nails of dogs whose owners want the whole bath treatment; take care of ADORABLE cats and baby kittens who can be adopted through the Pixie Project (Dog Star takes in the worst cases from the Oregon Humane Society and nurses them back to health); and - the best part by far - manage the play area, where all the dogs who are boarding or staying for daycare romp around. There are these two Great Danes named Otis and Sterling who are here as part of the Pixie Project. They were found tied up to a stake in the middle of the field, starving. They're really thin, but HUGE. When I'm in the play area, they follow me around and I pet them and coo at them. They're my boys. I would totally adopt them if we didn't already have a really stupid, hyper dog. There's another Great Dane named Hudson who is literally the size of a toy pony. He lopes around and licks the top of my shoulders. There's also Coco, who's the sweetest little chocolate-colored dog ever. She's at the bottom of the social chain in the pack, so she's always on the fringe of the group, but I pet her a lot and she gives me the saddest eyes. I love this job. I love how when I walk through the room, the dogs all follow me and bump up against me and my hands get slimed with the goo of forty wet noses. OMSI? Yeah, fuck you guys. Dogs rule.
That's about it for now. I put a few new things up on the ole website. Check it out! Support me! Join your comrades Cameo, Ellen, and Grandma Brewer in being my first buyers!
P.S. I just want you to know, even if I start charging more for rich people, I will always find a way for y'all to pay what I'm charging right now. I seriously would never have done this without all of you giving me advice and cheering for me.