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how soon is never?

So, um, I'm pretty sure I'm done with this blog. Recent events have changed my opinion on everything and I'm trying [really, really] to stop being so negative. I don't think I can do that successfully without purging all of the negative vibes attached to myself, both on the internet and otherwise. I'm leaving up everything craft/art related and deleting everything else. This will also likely be the case with my facebook soon enough as I have tentative plans to delete the whole thing.

That said, you can still find me on Flickr and of course email me at chatfield.randi@gmail.com.

I also may start another blog but who knows. If I do I will of course post the details here.

Thanks so much to everyone who read this and sent along any words of encouragement when I was down. I really appreciate everything.

When I'm Sixty-Four. Plus Four more.

Today, I got so angry that I wrote a very heated letter to "The View." Why? Because Barbara Walters is a condescending, old hen.

And I'm apparently 68 years old.

Oh, and my doctor's visit went very well. I won't go very much into detail, but I have a rather large cyst in a rather odd place. But, at least it's just a cyst. I'm also on medication that is making me super sick to my stomach. Just so you know. I also found out that I have disturbingly high blood pressure. So much so, that the nurses were gossiping amongst each other about it.

Again, I'm apparently 68 years old.

If you're in the Rockford, Illinois Area, please come down to Kryptonite Bar and check out my work. I'm showing three pieces including my John Wayne piece. It will be awesome. Buy drinks, check out some awesome artwork and hang out with me. I'm not terribly interesting or awesome or anything, but if you're not there, I'll be lonely. You don't want that on you conscience now, do you?

Things are most certainly coming up Milhouse!

Well folks, it's been awhile since I've updated anything and this will be brief as I'm very close to finishing another project and wanna get back to work before I lose my drive. I'll elaborate on everything more later but I just had to share some excellent news I just received:

I have been accepted into my first ever, for real-real, not for play-play, art show!!!

It's a local show with several different artists of several different mediums and I will be showing my John Wayne portrait along with a couple of other pieces I've done. I'm just so thrilled!

I'll update with more details soon in the event that anyone else lives in northern Illinois and has some time to kill in August.

But wait, There's more!

I also discovered today, totally at random, that my Rugrats stitch made Mr. X Stitch! I find this a huuuuuuuuuuuge compliment considering the ridiculously high level of talent they showcase on an everyday basis.

So, big thanks to all of the fabulous people who operate the best damn needlework blog out there for brightening my otherwise gloomy day!

Don't Say Anything. Be Dominant.

For those of you who don't know, I am a long-time fan of the television show Freaks and Geeks. I watched it the night it premiered and fell in love with it. From that point on, I never missed an episode. In fact, I was so obsessed with the show when assigned in a middle school English class to give a speech on something we were an "expert" in, that's what I choose. I, in all seriousness, gave a ten minute speech on how awesome this show was.

To me, at age 14, it just had everything. I wanted so bad to be Lindsey Weir. I still have pictures hidden somewhere of me in my second-hand army jacket. For awhile, every time I thought about how into this show I was or mentioned it to someone who had absolutely no idea what I was talking about I would get so sad that everyone was missing out but now I watch Knocked Up, Superbad, Pineapple Express, Forgetting Sarah Marshall and How I Met Your Mother and I realize how ahead of the times I was. I've had crushes on Jason Segel and Seth Rogan since before anyone even knew who they were.

At one point in 8th grade, my friend Amanda and I were so obsessed with Freaks and Geeks that we took stacks of Post-Its and wrote our favorite quotes from the show on each one. We then hung them in our lockers so we would could remove a Post-It each day for a new quote. As I was thinking about how absurd that was I decided it would be a neat idea to choose some favorite quotes and locate the scenes they're used in. I then do a sketch from that shot and include the quote. I plan on doing one of these for every major character and then embroidering them in great detail.

Why, you ask? I have no idea. It just sounded kinda cool. And, you know, my basic lack of life or social skills plays into that too, I'm sure.

First sketch is of Bill Haverchuck. It comes from the second episode "Beers and Weirs" where Lindsay throws a party and her younger brother Sam and his friends switch the keg of real beer out for a keg of non-alcoholic beer. The scene I choose features Bill, left alone to guard the real keg, slowly getting drunk [using a decorative plastic baseball hat as a cup] and watching his favorite show, "Dallas." 

I'm pretty excited to see how I can translate this into Needlework.

And, before I forget, I got a sewing machine! Matt's Grandma just so happened to have three machines, two of which from garage sales, and she gave me one of them. It's an old Kenmore model, I believe from the seventies. I can't wait to use it!

You suck, Dallas rules!

Today it was raining so I got a ride to school [rather than taking the bus] and got here almost an hour and a half early.

So, to kill time, I have been hiding at a desk listening to Billy Joel and drawing Bill Haverchuck.

Not this picture, of course, a much better one. One where he wears an expression of deep concern which could only be solicited by "Dallas."

If you have no idea what I'm talking about, well, you're clearly just not as cool as you thought you were.

I'm in Love

Go buy "The Archandroid" now. It is amazing.

If that alone doesn't convince you, the album also features guest spots by Of Montreal and [drumroll] Saul Williams. Oh, and it's a concept album about a futuristic robot messiah. Seriously.

Hot, Hot, Hot!!!

It's near 90 here today. I have changed four times to varying degrees of undress. I have positioned myself as close to a fan as possible. I have drank juice and water constantly to replenish the sweat pouring out of my every pore.

Nothing makes this better.

I am not made for this kind of weather. It makes me want to peel my skin off.

It makes me crazy.


Here is what happens:

Something I'm about to start working on. . .

Tuesday Teaser [on wednesday, in keeping with the running theme]

This is far from done. I have big, big plans.

F'n son of a gun. . .

So, for those of you who don't know, I am a huuuuuuge Wizard of Oz fan. It was my favorite when I was little and I often like to tell people about how at age four I could say with 100% certainty that I was, in fact, Dorothy and I was going to marry Axl Rose. It's really a pretty sweet life plan for a four-year-old to come up with, if you ask me. And how thoughtful of me to match the color of my shoes to my husband's hair.

Anyway, last night, at a loss for what to do, a few friends and myself decided to sync up The Wizard of Oz with Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon. i had tried this once in high school but we used my dad's vinyl copy of the album and thus had to try to pause the movie and flip the record. As I'm sure you imagined, it didn't turn out too well.

Well, this time around it went great and everyone was having a wonderful time. But then, as the scene just before the Flying Monkeys appear started, I noticed something unusual that I had never seen before. . .



HOLY COW! WHERE'D THAT GUN COME FROM?!?!

Does anyone else remember this part? I mean, I have seen this movie hundreds of times and I've never noticed that gun before. I didn't know they had guns in Oz. Quite honestly, it really changes my opinion of the place.

But what's even more curious is where does it go? He only has the gun in this one scene. In fact, mere moments later when the Flying Monkeys actually appear, the Scarecrow is once more unarmed. So, what was the point of the gun in the first place?

In any event, I think I feel an embroidery coming on. Someone has to celebrate the OG Scarecrow.

I was semi-productive today. . .

And just in case any of you had started to believe that I have any degree of needleworking or blogging ability, a picture proving otherwise:



That's right. It's all been a sham. Clearly, Bella has been doing all the work. I have merely been taking all the credit because, well, I'm an evil genius.



And evil is true because I am working her to sheer exhaustion. She's falling asleep on the job!

-------

On a completely unrelated note, I was watching Nightline tonight because its on during that awkward, mostly Family Guy chunk of Adult Swim I choose to avoid when there are no decent talk shows on yet since NBC stole my Coco and replaced him with Gay Leno [Bazinga!]

Well, I turn the show on a few minutes in only to find Martin Bashir, the super professional, super proper host of the program, throwing about the term "Juggalo." My immediate reaction was of course to laugh hysterically. Even Martin Bashir's perfect Queen's English could not make the term Juggalo sound even the slightest bit acceptable in adult conversation.

And then they began interviewing two of the actual members of the Insane Clown Posse. And then it got real.

Bashir: . . .people could call your lyrics juvenile and indecipherable. What do you say to that?


Random ICP Jackass: Well if they're like you, yeah they might because you sound smarter than a muthafucker right now.

Wow. Just wow.

But the story went on. Turns out it wasn't so much about ICP but about the many brutal murders and rapes being committed across the country by self-proclaimed Juggalos.

And all I could think was, how could people commit any kind of crime in the name of a "musician" who is thoroughly impressed by someone using words like, "juvenile" and "indecipherable?" Dude, did you even finish High School?

Oh wait that's right, you dress like a clown for a living. And not just any clown, but a clown who mistakenly believes he can rap.

Far Behind. . .

Well hurray for not making deadlines!

I know, I know. I promised wonderful little embroidered goodies for sale on Etsy by 2/20/10. It is now 3/9/10. I am fully aware of this.

I am close though. In fact I'm off all week for Spring Break and I plan on working on nothing but Etsy stuff. And, you know, homework. I guess that's important too.

But, on the bright side, I have a new computer!!! I'm working on getting Photoshop so I can edit and put together some embroidery patterns I've been working on. It's gonna be pretty awesome.


Now on to the craft porn!

Those of you who found me through the ever-fabulous Craftster have probably already seen this.



And this:



Well, they will both be for sale soon! In addition to a "Rugrats" version I'm finishing up and an "Alvin and the Chipmunks" version I have in mind.

And, for a real teaser, here is a sample of some of the patterns I'm working on.



Remember, that's just a teaser and very, very far from what I plan on the finished product looking like, but it gives you an idea.

And now I'm off to stitch and watch "The View." Apparently today they are going to detail the history of the Menstrual Cycle [no joke] and explain why cramps "are actually a good thing!" <---[a very excited, very male announcer made this bold claim.]

I am not convinced, male voice of "The View." I don't think anyone with a vagina is.

coming soon. . .

. . .to an etsy near you.

"If it's the ultimate game, how come they're playing it again next year?"

It's that time of year kids: Superbowl. A time of junk food overdoses where television ads are treated like cinematic masterpieces. I've already read several opinions on how this year's game will all go down, but quite frankly, I really don't care. I'm a Bears fan.

Therefore, I don't give one hot damn how this game plays out so long as, when it's all said and done, the Colts lose. Yep, I'm voting Saints all the way. Before you even so much as think about it, let me explain.

I dislike Peyton Manning. It's not because he's won and I think someone else deserves a shot. It's not because he's a lilty-voiced uber-dork. It's not because he's sold his sole to Oreos [I actually enjoy those commercials quite a lot, though Eli is clearly funnier simply because he seems so surprised by the fact that he is, in fact, speaking.]

It is because he looks like a fucking alien.

EX:


Just check this shit out! His head, for one, is enormous. Not to mention how bulbous it looks. Next, we see that there is no clear distinction, in terms of size or shape, between his head and neck. Is his neck enormous or are his jowls swollen? Is he part of a race of giant chipmunk people?

But wait, there's more. In fact, I'm just getting to the best part.

HE HAS NO SHOULDERS!!! His neck just slowly tapers off and becomes his arms without any indication of a joint connecting them.

See, this is how he has gone undetected for so long. The people on his planet, or as they shall henceforth be known in this blog, The People of the Deficient Shoulders [POTDS] sent him here to infiltrate our kind but he knew people would spot his definitionless upper extremities almost instantly. So he did the only thing he could: become an NFL quarterback. Guaranteed lifetime supply of shoulder pads. It's genius really.

But he didn't fool everyone. The truth was out there all along, I'm just the only one willing to see it.

So this year, as you watch the Superbowl, remember what it feels like not to be part of a race enslaved by shoulder-less aliens because if the Colts win, no one can be certain that isn't what we're headed for.



We'll have to do all their heavy lifting. Just sayin'. . .