My friend Megan's cat, Sydney, has developed hyperthyroidism and needs an expensive treatment that Megan can't pay for on her own. If you have an extra ten bucks lying around, and have compassion for nice cats and their impoverished owners, take a look at Megan's Etsy site and buy a Sydney card.

I was not aware of this, but Dr. X clued me in this morning. Some sources are warning that people wearing political buttons or t-shirts might have trouble at the polls.

Best Not to Electioneer on Election Day. Even Snopes isn't sure what the story is.

Better safe than sorry: wouldn't you be mad if some misinformed yahoo told you you couldn't vote until you changed out of your Obama teeshirt?

And to think that I was going to wear my Obama-sash. I have so many Obama buttons, thanks to thimblewinder.

Oh, and by the way:

If you vote you won't be deported.
Don't listen to anybody with a clipboard.
And Election Day is still on TUESDAY no matter what the Republicans are trying to tell you.

And lastly, just in case you need a little Simon LeBon to get you pumped up:

Oh my gosh, the planets aligned and the Pod Post Correspondence Merit Badges are now in the shop! Tell all your friends! And then get to lickin' those stamps!

I love the Grammar Geek. I think I may need to order this for next year.

Some new softcover buttonhole journals are up in the shop, in case you've been hankering after something to scribble in.

Hello Dears,

This is what I have for you today:



Pod Post is working on a book about Mail Art, and we need your help! Rather than the festival of egomania that would ensue if we only used our own work in the book, we'd like to make the content as diverse and wonderful as possible, and that's where you come in! If you click on the image above, it will download the Call For Entries, which you should fill out and send in with your awesome mail art.

(If you'd rather not download the PDF, click here and here to view.)

Please note: all submitted work must have a signed copy of the Grant of Rights (page 2) included, to make your rise to published fame simpler.

Questions? Please comment.

Found at Red Charming, the online home of Emily Larned, formerly of Muffinbones, Memorytown USA, and currently of Parfait.

It's really the logical extension of all that time we wasted in junior high.

This fall, I wrote a two-page piece on my favorite obsessive zines for Ampersand, a quarterly book arts journal put out by the Pacific Center for Book Arts. In that article I profiled Clutch by Greg Means, Secret Mystery Love Shoes and Listy by Maria Goodman and Androo Robinson, I Am A Camera by Vanessa Berry, and What Did You Buy Today by Kate Bingaman-Burt, also known for her awesome blog of the same name.

I'm happy to report, for those of you in the Bay Area, that you can head on over to Rare Device SF to see her installation and buy the zines in person!



photo by Lisa Congdon, from Flickr.

This post is really just an excuse to use one of my new icons.

Have a cold beverage and an ice cream sandwich--I'm going to the Lake for a week.

alanlastufka clued me in to the new blog of Cindy Crabb (of Doris zine). It's always odd for me to see that someone so zine-committed, so old-school, has taken to the Internet. I imagine the struggle that might have gone along with it and the subsequent justifications. I can see Cindy deciding that the things she has to say could help people who might never see a zine but who will forward URLs to their friends.

If you haven't read Cindy's zine before, Doris deals with punk lifestyle (now from an older perspective), friendships, growing things, staying passionate, surviving abuse, and in general the struggle to stay honest and committed to one's beliefs despite life changes.

The blog seems to be a [somewhat less charming] version of her zine (complete with iffy spelling). I was particularly taken with the post If Your Friend's Parent Died. It's something I need to read. Maybe you do, too.






(also posted in podpost)

Dear gods above,

I am just about ready to stop having to hunch over a cutting mat on the floor to make anything cool. I'm not trying to rise above my origins, or get inflated ideas of my self-worth, but I'm getting on in years and it's starting to make my back hurt well into the next day.

I wish for a workroom with a nice large table of the proper height. And a window or two.

Thank you.


Your devoted pal,
le poulet.

With such things in't.

Dr X's sister is about to have her second baby, and Dr. X's mother is off to Des Plaines to help out. "How does she know the baby'll show up on time?" I asked. "She's having it on Tuesday morning," he answered. "8 a.m. sharp."

She's not having a planned c-section, she's being induced. She's not past her due date.

Is this how it works now? No more waiting for baby to be ready, or for some mysterious natural force to decide the bun is done cookin'? Schedule it like you would a dentist appointment and avoid the pesky hassles of having to get up in the night, running the risk of having no-one to look after the kid, or worrying about hubby being gone bowling. No more doctors-on-call. No more guessing! Just get that ol' cervix up to birthin' state toot sweet with our fancy birthin' drugs! No, don't ask what they are. The important thing is you'll be back home in time for 24!

It doesn't seem right. Anyone more in-the-know than I want to weigh in?

Notes

Act I

I see several of the same people nearly every morning while I'm out engaged in irritating activities in order to not get the diabetes and die: there is the Hispanic guy on a bike, who I nearly always see when I reach the same point in my run. I get the feeling he is biking to work while I, with my Caucasian privilege, am engaged in a pointless activity that is designed to keep me fitting into my pants. Anyway, he always breaks into a big grin when he sees me, and now I do the same when I see him. It's nice. We wave and say hi.
The next guy is usually wearing a fedora or an aviator cap. He doesn't seem much past forty, with a very youthful demeanor. When I first started seeing him around, he handed me his business card and introduced himself. He said he was out of work and looking for some kind of programmer job. He seemed nice enough but then, as we were getting a little friendlier with each other, he started showing up at the Saturday morning farmer's market with one of those crazy-people signs about 9/11 being a Bush administration conspiracy. Which, maybe it was, but I don't think I want to talk to him about it, because he probably has Time magazines leading back to the Carter administration in his living room. I started crossing the street when I thought I might have to talk to him, and now he is stone cold to me when I see him. Which is fine and dandy with me, as his six-pack does not seem to be a full half-dozen.
The third person is a recent addition; she's a tiny young Asian lady walking the teeniest doberman you ever saw in your life. One of my elderly neighbors leaves treats out for the dog, which is a stupid vicious ball of blackness that lunges at me snarling if I even pass on the same side of the street. She's nice enough, though. She waves as though she knows her dog is a shithead.
Yep. These are the people in my neighborhood, in my neighborhood, in my neighborhood.

Act II

Four chickadees, likely paired, in the bird-bath (the one that has been ignored for months and months and months).
A hummingbird buzzing about the backyard fountain, like he's not sure if the burbles are enemy or no. He dips his tail in, over and over again, but never stops to have a drink. I realize I know nothing about the bathing habits of hummingbirds.
At night, sitting on the trellis-bench covered in pink jasmine, I hear a rustling above me. Even in daylight the vines are too thick to see what might be sleeping in there.

Act III

I should continue the habit I once had of writing down the strange quirks of conversation that fill my interactions with others. I once did this with my employees at the frame shop; it was the only way I could get over my supreme irritation with them. Someday this will all be fodder for my novel...

Hello All!

bubbleandsqueek and I have started up the Pod Post blog over at podpost. Only two entries so far, but there will be projects, neat things we like, and dispatches from the Land of Pod.

Add us!

Yep.