Jeneca Klausen vs Thank You

Jeneca Klausen's jewelry at the Thank You shop!!!
Click here for more info.....

Thank You

These last few months have been a trying time for me on all levels.  It's like my brother once said to me during a previous dark moment "Linds, sometimes life just kicks you in the ass."
I remember that for it's stark simplicity and accuracy.  I picture my bro in a Canadian Tuxedo, sipping a Tim Horton's triple-triple with a full on hoser accent dispensing this little wisdom to me.
Of course, he's not a hoser but a full blown citizen of the USA, I just like to imagine him that way, saying that phrase.
It takes all the personal out of it, like "Life" is kicking you in the ass, not anything in particular just the whole of it.
Those ass-kickings are necessary lessons on how to be in the world and if they work properly, the Scepter of Knowledge is handed down.  Sometimes I'm the double-denim advice giver and sometimes not, such is the ebb and flow of existence.
On a positive note, the shop is now open.  It's called Thank You and I think it looks very very nice.
Happy to have involved my new business partners and pals who have injected fresh energy into the space.
A preemptive Thank You.

Walking Dead Style: Spoilers!

 

Another season of Walking Dead come and gone, a show I swore off before the end of season one, but picked up again out of desperation.  When you don't have a TV, you have to find and commit to the online "progrims" and stay with, thick or thin.

I'm not going to discuss the horrible acting, annoying decisions, the tedium of stagnant locations or how in THE HELL THE GOVERNOR STILL LIVES.  It's not my progrim and I have no control over what happens in this fictional zompocalypse, but if I did things would be MUCH different.

The devil is in the details they say and I can't help but find distraction in the trivialities of  character hair, makeup and wardrobe. 

It's been tough for the main group.  They've been holed up in a prison for some time, afraid to face the road and enemy number one to the somewhat civilized town of Woodbury.  Acquiring formula for baby Judith turned into a nightmare with the capture of Maggie and Glenn and the hunt for a crib became the basis for an entire episode. YET somehow, the difficulties of finding supplies and the general hindrance of hardcore survival have not squashed the style game of Cell Block C.

 

Let's start with Maggie.  Season 2 started off on her farmhouse so she was able to pull from her own closet, lucky girl.  All Laura Ashley hipster with a tomboy touch, she's been rocking that piecy bob for at least a summer and a winter.

 

That's the kind of haircut that needs constant maintenance, you can't just go hacking away at it with a steak knife, it requires skill and dabs of shine serum.  Somebody in the camp is cutting hair and I want to know who!  And if there is a hairdresser amongst the lot, why haven't they seen fit to address Hershel's undignified ponytail?!  If they have the wherewithal  to cut off a human leg, surely they could annihilate a superfluous pony.

Season 3 has Maggie in a more appropriate post-apocalypse vibe.  Tight jeans, gun holsters and....fashion forward gothy open weave knits??!?!?!?!  I swear I caught a glimpse of an exposed zipper on last night's finale.

 

 

On to Andrea, who we love to hate now that Lori's dead, amirite?

We know what she favors- khaki, khaki, khaki.  You would think if it was end of times and the whole planet was overrun by zombies and you were constantly having blood sprayed on your person, you would want to avoid any clothing in the white/pastel spectrum.

Where did this shearling trim coat come from?  Is there a Macy's in Woodbury?

 

 

 

God help me, I couldn't survive in a world of low-slung jeans. The fact that each character seems to have a wardrobe of jeans amazes me.  Like, I have three pairs of jeans and I can go to Dufferin Mall without danger any time I choose:

Oh and girlfriend had her roots did and was given the key to the Woodbury Aussie Sprunch Spray cupboard:

 

 

 

Beth, I wanted to punch you when you sang that song, and I'm not sure how you've survived this long but you skin sure is dewy. 

 

 

More hipster jeans, a "boho" belt and a sheer tank ever-so-preciously tied in a knot because like, YOU'RE LIVING IN A PRISON SURROUNDED BY REANIMATED CORPSES!!!!

 

 

 

I hate to bring up Lori, Christ, things have been so much less annoying without her but she was the Queen of new shirts.  A new shirt for every scene, clean and fitted.

Also, her perfectly applied eyeliner that held up through killing, adultery, blazing hot summers and childbirth.  If there's eyeliner, then there's eyemakeup remover, cotton balls and running water.

And yes, they did drugstore runs but please!  Who would be thinking of giving face during the most pressing crisis to ever befall mankind?

 

I had high hopes for Michonne when she burst onto the scene with her zombie pets and samurai sword.  But her low talking and inability to properly destroy the governor when she had the chance made me realize she has just as little follow-through as the rest. (barring Carl who has the potential to turn into the real hero)   What do we have here.....color coordination, a fitted leather vest and a SEQUIN belt.  How threatening.

 

 

 

Carol.  Maybe Carol's got it right after all.  You shave your head, wear the same ripped shirt you almost died in and basically present as "Not Giving Two Fucks"

There will be time for glamor when the zombie thing is sorted but the current priority is to be as badass as possible.

 

 

 

 

Under the heading "Not Getting Badass Right"  is the goddamn Governor.  An eyepatch conveys a sense of "danger"  and "been there, done that"  but the message is lost when paired with an asymmetrical leather shoulder quilted jacket, for crying out loud!

 

 

 

 

 

I will forgive Daryl for his uber hipster Pendleton cape because A:  It's filthy and

B: He's accessorized with a crossbow and motorcycle.

 

 

 

 

 

I'm starting to be okay with Carl because I feel like he might be the only character since Shane who is able to act on impulse instead of toying with morality.  He killed his mom and there ain't no going back, it's all dark side from here on in.  He's a child of the zombie lifestyle and could maybe help save the human race. 

 

 

So the show is only an hour long and they can't possibly portray the minutiae of apocalypse existence blah blah.

But there must be other viewers like me who are wondering....wondering what it would

be like without my special hairdryer, silk pillowcase and retinoid cream.

I'd be the first one with a hammer at the Shopper's Drugmart window when the alarm sounded, but I'd also be a pretty kick ass zombie survivalist.  The best of both worlds, you can have it all.

 

 

 

Hello Cruel World

This blog is so stale that I nearly forgot the sign in password.
This blog is so stale that my friend Sarah who is never online asked me what happened to my blog the other day.
This blog is so stale that the Melba toast in my cupboard is less stale.

True story, one time I was in a hostel in Naples and they tried to pass off Melba toast as toast.
That's the trouble with Europeans, they never truly figured out breakfast.  Coming from this brunch inclined culture of ours, the idea of an eggs benedict free society is a minor horror.  Maybe I'll move to Europe and start a Waffle House franchise chain?  Nah, it wouldn't be appreciated.  Besides, I have a business here already and it's about to be reborn.  Yes, stale readers, things are changing again.  One of my business mentors once said to me "if you are not growing, you're dying" and I agree. However, I would like to add a slight modification and replace growing with changing.
To me life and happiness isn't about crunching numbers, my pursuit is purely satisfaction and the rewards of autonomy.  If I wanted piles of cash, I would climb the corporate ladder at a financial company or some such, wear taupe pants and do the right things. Would they even have me?
If money's your game I no judge, I get it.  You may have a family or a house or gambling debts.  You may enjoy comfort and TVs, yearly vacations to Florida or have a penchant for green diamonds.  I want to wake up happy every day, dread free and interested.
The world isn't structured to reward this kind of thinking so I encourage you to stay strong when the inevitable questions and challenges arise.
If you want to go it alone, forget about retirement plans and accept that you will  work until you die.
If you need to, give up the condo dream and embrace your rental because it's just a sleeping pod anyway.  The fun and the stuff is outside.
I know, I know. Iron Chic, you go away for three months and come back with platitudes.
I'm just reminding you and I'm reminding me to consider being a work in progress- a squishy malleable piece of youthful looking clay that does wrong and sometimes right.  A finished product has nothing left.  It sits on a fireplace mantle rigid and predictable, immune to the mysteries of growth.
And no, I did not recently complete a Landmark seminar, just a half bottle of Chardonnay.
XOXOXOXOXOXO

Movie Review: Black Death

Stayed in last night and watched a movie called "Black Death" starring one of my "husbands" Sean Bean.  Of course I stayed in and no, Sean Bean is not sick of dressing up in medieval armor, thanks for asking.  In fact, I refuse to acknowledge his existence on the rare occasions he wears contemporary civilian clothing.

 

 

 

Not a bad film, a sort of glorified made-for-tv number that is just dark enough to stay interesting.
When you need to get your Medieval on and you don't wanna resort to Braveheart for the millionth time, Black Death will suffice.  I am grateful for any new material about this historical period that has always captured my imagination.  Don't get it twisted, I definitely don't want to get sent back via time machine to live out my geekburger fantasies, that space was hell on earth.  I like bathing every day, eating green food, living past 30 and not being a second class citizen. I also prefer water to ale, un-itchy wool, safe walks through woods, democracy, dentistry and internet.
Overall, a 7.2 out of 10. 

800 Zing Zang Zong

This is my 800th post on this thing, Jumping Jehosaphat!

You can go all the way back to 2007 and read about the trivialities of my life - practically Old Testament times. You won't find anything that juicy though, I'm saving that stuff for the memoirs I will write on my deathbed.

 

 

 

 

I'm still going through the box of photos I grabbed from my storage unit and pulled out a few winners to share.

 

 

 

Here's me and my bro on our way to Florida.   Note my "Wrestlemania" shirt.  I was a HUGE  wrestling fan:

 

I think this was 2004ish?  I'm in Pompeii, shiny:

1995?  With my old pal Hutsul:

 

 

 

 

 

Same era...look at the camera, dope!  I learned that later in life:

 

Milk moustache.  I remember that shirt, it had red Japanese writing on the front:

First day of school Geekburgers:

 

 

 

Evidently I was in a frosty makeup phase in the late 90's

 

Thanks for sticking around.... XOXOX

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Sitting in my "office" which is just a chair in a corner really. I miss you blank square, I have internet at home now so we'll see what happens.  Thing is, I'm horrible at multitasking- not sure why it's such a virtue anyway. I singular task and procrastinate.  I wouldn't dare sit in my office until my toenails are perfect enough to eat off of.  If I am reading, and somebody or something is making a sound in the other room, my concentration will burst.  Just now I went to grab the container of cold, mashed sweet potatoes from the fridge.  My brain gets tired easily, I think I think best between 11am and 3pm.  Not morning, not night.  It used to be morning but I now start my workday at noon and I dread early events.  I will dread them a week prior, it's sick.  The guy upstairs from me wakes up for work at precisely 6:30 every morning even on Sundays, even on holidays.  He stumbles around for approximately 10 minutes before bursting out into the quiet dark (what I consider) night.  No coffee, no thoughts, no careful outfit consideration just *blam* out the door.  I have mornings but I work every day and it takes the better part of my energy.  The energy for other stuff like writing, reading and contemplation.  I considered stopping business just for a while truth be told.  But I thought deeper and the prospect of getting a job terrified me to the core.  I have a job, I am a job.  I tell people having a business means you are inextricably tied body and soul to how well it does and does not do.  I thought I wanted to step off that roller coaster for a while and go pour coffee at Starbucks so I could make money I didn't have to reinvest into anything but myself.  But I can't, I'll go Office Space on any job's ass.  They won't like me and I won't like them.  I've been doing my own thing for way too long now and I can't be crammed in a little cage no sir!  So I'll keep my tiny shop and the semi-precious objects that come and go into what I imagine are carefully curated, interesting nests.  Speaking of which, I just got distracted by this cheeky Design Sponge-antipode tumblr.
So true.