Blah Blah Blah, Bitch Bitch Bitch, Moan Moan Moan.
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Okay, I think I got it out. Probably not.
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It's almost 11 pm on Sunday, the 28th, and although I will likely be up at an appropriate hour to recant some ramblings to you in the morning, I'd much prefer to dote around and do as I please in the morning without some fictitious looming deadline. This is an annoying "perk" of being unemployed. It will be okay, though, because I had an intuitive thought not too long ago that I would have a job by the end of January, and for whatever reason, I like to trust my gut.
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I'm going to take these short, sweet moments I have your attention to hypothesize about what the next year of newsletters will bring you. I have a sneaky feeling there will be at least one guest author, and since I know there will be at least one, I will open up to any of you the opportunity to submit a newsletter. If you're interested, here is how you can submit:
Send me an email (you can reply to this email) including the following:
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- A greeting, because yes, I am a human and would love it if you were, too.
- Provide your newsletter. You can attach it, you can share it, you can type it right in the email, just please make it clear which part is the newsletter, and don't send me sketchy links, that's rude, and I will be upset.
- Let me know if you want to be acknowledged or anonymous. You can choose a funny pen name if you'd like. Links to anywhere you would like traffic to be directed would also be appreciated, as long as they're not too tacky, annoying, or again, sketchy.
- Any specific instructions, strange requests, etc.
By submitting a newsletter, I am not attempting to shuck off my responsibility, but rather, give you an opportunity to write into the void, and have it read by a number of people. I am also not guaranteeing your newsletter will make the cut. I'm not sure exactly what I wouldn't allow here, but I do know that I will know it when I see it. You're also allowing me to possibly reply, critique, or otherwise bounce off of your newsletter in any way I see fit, unless of course you explicitly tell me that there is to be no riffing and I must publish exactly as is. yadda yadda. If you choose to email me and I select you, I will reach out to confirm any questions I might have and offer to send you a test newsletter for approval beforehand.
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Anyway, what's everyone been up to this liminal time of the year? I just finished sewing a pair of lounge pants that I took the time to French seam, even though they're made out of a random couple yards of pre-cut fabric purchased at the WalMarts. I'm not 100% satisfied (when am I ever?), but I learned some, and they will work for wearing around the house until I am so annoyed with the several little things that I want to pick at like scabs that I finally remake the damn pants and fix all the things I didn't do in the first go around, mainly because I didn't make a toile- which is a fun word pronounced like "twaal". I heard a handful of YouTube sewists saying it, and I was like, "wtf is this word? Is it because she's Australian? I am so confused," and then I finally saw it spelled and said, " ohhhh it's not pronounced like 'toil and trouble'... " Twaal. Anyway, some of these things I will nitpick could have probably been avoided had I not decided earlier in the week to make 23 feet of bias tape by hand. This is one way to tell you I've continued sewing, and I'm so glad to be finished with these pants because it was a knit fabric, which is fine, I used to sew with knit all the time, but now I am old and wise and want things to be pretty and perfect and knit fabric can get wonky quickly and I'm just really grateful the next project I have cut out and waiting for me is with a woven fabric, and I've already made a toile of it, so it should be smooooooth sailing.
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Are you excited for the new year? Is it special, or will it be Thursday? Have you given yourself any funny goals that you may or may not already know you will or won't succeed at? I think 2026 might be the year I stay hydrated. Get hydrated? I'm not exactly sure where I stand currently, but I do know my partner and I have a load of fun driving all around to locate fresh spring water. We have a large, cheap plastic dispenser (also from, you guessed it, the WalMarts) that we take and fill up. We found one that is within a reasonable distance of a place we enjoyed breakfast at once, so it is likely we will return, or possibly make a ritual out of replenishing our spring water supply.
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Speaking of my partner, or rather, mentioning of, he was very sweetly asleep on the couch with the dog when I started writing, and has since gone through the motions of going to bed. In fact, so have I. I went and filled up my water (hydration), put all my moisturizers, balms, and ointments on my face (hy.dray.tion.), even went so far as to get in bed and procure a snug from a gently snoring gentleman, but couldn't shake the thoughts stirring about how I wrote most of this email haphazardly and was too excited to go to bed to do my due diligence in reading it back and making sure there aren't too many run on sentences (we're not going to talk about this one), and so I resolved to wait patiently until the afformentioned handsome man moved in his sleep to leave the warm, cozy blankets, and wander through the dimly lit house to my laptop, where I had to refresh the page, and all sorts of other extra steps, to reformat, edit, and do my due diligence because in a shocking turn of events I have somehow established standards that I feel responsible to uphold, all without my bluelight glasses because, again, dimly lit house. Breathe. Gimme a break and ignore any typos or strange/ confusing word choice? It's late, I got out of bed to finish this, and there's so much hair (mine and canine) stuck to my face because of the layers of shit I slathered on, it's a sensory nightmare, and I must retire to bed, hopefully not for nightmares.
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