Shop Reopening: In the Cards

It's finally happened; after one year and nearly three months, I've reopened my Etsy shop!  Now that I've been vaccinated and am freer to move about the cabin, I feel comfortable returning to the post office.  It's funny how being offline so long has given me a fresh perspective.  Kind of like that Daria episode where Mr. O'Neil assigns Daria a creative writing story about anything and she gets so stuck by the possibilities that he has to provide the parameter of a game of cards.  Only then is she able to spin a tale set fifteen or so years in the future where she's a renowned columnist "waking up the world" and her sister Quinn is married with kids.  So, I assigned myself my own game of cards.  Instead of just clicking renew for each item in my shop, I stopped and said, does my shop really need all this stuff?  I spent last week picking the best of the best, paring my listings down from six hundred plus to a lean, mean two hundred and twenty-six.  Working with a smaller pool of items meant that I could take the time to edit each one, tweaking pics, correcting grammatical errors (the horror!), and trying to make them look and sound all around more exciting.  And you know what?  I think I succeeded!  

The recently rephotographed and gauchely glam (glamly guache?) Lady, You're a Lion Necklace

It feels good to be live on Etsy again.  I even saw that one of my barrettes was in somebody's cart!  I know this doesn't mean that the person will buy it (who among us hasn't filled a virtual cart full of [to make another Daria reference] "doo-dads and things" only to jettison it all for a Psychic Friends call or the gas bill?), but it was still thrilling.  As if I'd said, hey, world, I'm back! and somewhere out there someone listened.    

I know you already know this, but this Tote Trove thing is my labor of love.  Maybe that's weird coming from a woman who's never had children.  But even if I'm not a mother like Quinn, in my own small way, I'm making a difference.   

Like Daria.  Only without the glasses.

I Spy Cat's Eye

Some people dread the dentist.  But my nemesis is the eye doctor.  And I use the term doctor loosely.  Because optometrists and ophthalmologists have about as much in common as Milli Vanilli and Adele.  You'd think that knowing this would calm me down to near cockiness.  But last Sunday, when it was time for my yearly eye exam at a Visionworks shoehorned between Moe's and David's Bridal, I still felt pressure to pass all those tests.  Not as much as I used to, mind you.  But I hadn't achieved that coveted cool as a cucumber status.  Or maybe I should say cool as a carrot status because carrots are supposed to be good for your eyes.  

Anyway, you know the kinds of tests I mean. What's the smallest line you can read?  Which line is clearer, one or two?  Two or three?  How many aliens are in front of the farmhouse?  (I made that last one up.  But I think that the tests should be more entertaining, especially the air puff one for glaucoma.  Hearing a Mario Brothers storming the castle sound effect when you get punched would make it less scary.)  I was even more on edge because my nearsighted self wears glasses only to drive, a behavior that compromises my ocular integrity, making the kindly optometrist (for he is kindly, despite his choice in profession) suspicious.  This, I realize, makes me, not him, the Milli Vanilli.  His questions went something like this: So, you don't wear your glasses when you go to the movies?  Or when you watch TV?  Or use the computer?  No, no, and no.  But wouldn't things be clearer if you did?  Well, sure.  But I'm not blind (despite what that guy at the DMV once said).  And seeing every wrinkle on Brian Austin Green's face while I watch "BH 90210" isn't something I want in my life.  

Nor is being known as someone who wears glasses.  Not that there's anything wrong with glasses.  Daria rocked them like the badass she was, and "The Big Bang Theory's" Bernadette wouldn't be Bernadette without them.  It's just that they're not me.  

  

That said, fun and funky sunglasses like these are the only lenses I want on my face.  And yes, these pics do get slightly smaller as you make your way down.  Which Tote Trove lady is clearer, daisy cat's eye or red hearts?  Red hearts or purple hearts?  Purple hearts or invisible alien?  

Guess what?  After all that angst, it turns out I didn't even need new glasses.  

Which was just as well because everyone knows that Mr. Green doesn't have wrinkles.