I wish I weren't so fucking moody.
Whatever.
Maybe I'll link you to that MarthaStewart-Etsy segment tomorrow.
Rob mentions my name.
(Big _________...)
Bye.
SELF PORTRAIT THURSDAY!
2.28.07
Where I work these days:
And another one to show that I was hungover for a good part of the day:
Every night just about.
Here's me last night in the same exact clothes:
(Chris K. came over last night and we went to eat and drink beer and then went to a bar and drank a lot more.)
Last night I met the dog version of myself---we both bark at people for no good reason, and we really just want to be left alone, but at the same we don't. And vice versa.
His name was Willis.
And he's the same kind of dog that was in that Jim Carrey movie, "The Mask". Milo, I think his name was.
"Not the cheese---the keys!"
Hahahaha.
Anywho, here are some photos of Willis and I.
I wonder how many photos I'll have of myself by the time I die.
I'm thinking 40,000.
I'm surprised I always find things to talk about since I work from home, rarely going out. (I just work from home. I didn't say that I make enough to live. Because I don't. I'm a starving boy. I just finished my last pack of ramen noodles.)
But this is what I really wanted to say:
So, the other night Rob K. (aka RobEtsy), the guy who started Etsy, came by our apartment and asked Desira and I to make him a shirt for him to wear on the Martha Stewart show.
And we did.
So, on Friday, you will be able to see Rob K. and Matt S. (also from Etsy) on Martha Stewart.
You can watch Rob's post-interview interview at the Etsy Labs here:
First of all, I need to find out who said that.
Second, I need to ask that person: "What's THAT supposed to mean?"
Gah.
In other news, Debbie, the new fake live-in girlfriend, and I had our first photo session.
In OTHER news, ever since Rob fixed my internet a few days ago, I haven't been able to sign onto Trillian, the chat program I use that lets me sign onto AIM, MSN, and Yahoo all from the same program.
It's annoying me like crazy.
But I DO get a lot done...
So, maybe I shouldn't even worry about chatting with people.
I really do like instant messaging.
I also like text messaging.
I hate it when I text somebody and then they call me right up to talk.
It's like... Dude, you're not getting it obviously.
Oh, lord...
I think I've already written about that on my blog before.
I'm HORRIBLE about repeating myself---especially in person.
I just forget what I've told people and what I haven't told them.
P.S.
I posted on Freecycle looking for an electric guitar.
I REALLY want to start playing again. Desira and I are going to get this show on the road, pals.
We're going to be famous punk rockers.
Whatever that means.
Did I tell you that I got a new girlfriend?
Well, I did.
Her name is Debbie.
I met her last night---I found her by the garbage---and brought her home to live with me.
She's way taller than me.
And there's something cold about her.
She also falls apart when she falls over. (Just ask Desira cuz Deb fell on top of her last night while she was taking some photos.)
This is what she looks like:
Desira dressed her.
This is what I look like today (wearing one of the shirts I sewed this afternoon):
Listen to it:
Hope he's well.
Well, Windy, my younger sister, left yesterday. And I wasn't expecting this, but I got so sad after I said goodbye that I started crying as I was walking in the airport. I was so homesick the rest of the day that I had to go to the bathroom a couple times to bury my face in my towel and cry like a baby.
But I guess it's just one of those things.
I feel a lot better today.
Here are some photos of me being an NYC tourist with my sister:
(At the top of the Empire State Building.)
(Grand Central.)
That scarf that she's wearing is a belated Christmas gift I finished after she got here. I made her model it for me the other day:
It's really long---over 70".
And it's a foot wide.
She told me she wanted it this one time we were waiting at the Coach store. This lady walked in with a similar scarf, and Windy said, "That's the scarf I want. So, you better get on it.'
I'm not good with deadlines.
I'm also worse when I have no deadlines.
So, yeah.
That's that.
Here are a few other random photos of some shirts I've sewn since yesterday. And other stuff.
Oh, and here's this photo of me when I had this REALLY bad hangover.
(I couldn't stay in bed all day long like I wanted to, though. I had to keep on truckin' and take Windy shopping...)
K sorry for all the photos, but I missed you, friends!
x
craig-hunter
I'll update rill soon.
Don't worry.
I got a lot of photos to show you.
I love you.
x.
c
SELF PORTRAIT THURSDAY!
2.21.08
This is a different kind of SPT.
I involved Desira in the mix.
So, here are ten photos of us taking photos using these (awesome!) gifts my younger sister brought us from Houston.
(Btw, she's here visiting me in NYC. I'll show you those photos tomorrow or tomorrow night, k?)
Hi.
So, I guess I've moved to New York...
Not sure. Or it's too weird to accept.
I'm here for at least a year.
I'm trying to build Cubist Literature into a more profitable business/project.
I have huge problems with maintaining consistency, though.
Like... the idea of selling the same item over and over is a difficult thing for me to do. I'm sure I can get creative with it. I'm positive I can.
But there's so much I want to do...
Who knows.
Just stay tuned and be my friend while I try to figure things out.
In other news, I've taken a liking to fingerknitting.
I listed those scarves in my shop.
It's crazy---they're like 14-15 feet long.
CRAZY IN A GOOD WAY, tho!
Here's a testimonial Desira, my roommate, wrote about me:
"Craig's online personality is like a topographical map to an urban
jungle, full of all of the evidence of life but hiding the treasures.
Not until you see him in the flesh, do you uncover the mystics of his
magic."
Sweet.
I've nothing else to say right now except that I'm tired.
The time I'd given myself a really (REALLY) bad haircut and admitted on film that I think about Pacman more than Hitler:
Like JUST now while I was brushing my teeth.
I recently made a list of my biggest fears:
(These aren't in any particular order.)
1. Becoming horribly disfigured/scarred.
2. Being stuck leading a boring/monotonous life, being aware/conscious of this fact, and not being able to do anything about it.
3. Having my teeth shatter and/or fall out.
4. Living and having to survive in a post-apocalyptic world. (I'm talking about being one of the few survivors after a comet collision or zombie outbreak.)
5.
I forget what #5 is.
I'll report back later about that.
(But maybe there is no #5. Who knows. Just assume there is.)
Desira let me use her sewing machine this afternoon. I forgot how much quicker it is to appliqué something by machine than by hand. Stupid hands.
OH!
This is what I really wanted to tell you:
Well, I use vintage spools of thread to do my sewing just cuz a large quantity one day fell into my hands. Anyway, as I was trying to put the thread on top of the machine there was some resistance. Then out comes this little piece of plastic from the spool hole-thing.
I take the plastic out from the spool completely and look closer at it to see that it's actually a little plastic baggie (sp?)---a little plastic baggie containing a little amount of vintage coke!
I didn't know how to feel about that mostly because most of the sewing supplies I use used to belong to my (Mormon) great-grandmother. But did this one spool belong to her, too? Or did I obtain it from somewhere else?
Was my great-grandmother a coke head?
Questions, questions...
