FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF r i dls a we a d aldkjfs a DAY.
I feel like I’ve not posted a Flotsam in 35 hundred thousand lifetimes!
Which in reality it was only one week, but so much has happened in the last two WEEKS, you guys. I just needed last Friday off. Except, when I asked my boss if I could have the day off, she was a total b about it all, “You think you can just traipse in here all foggy eyed, asking for more coffee and an extra two hours of sleep? Who do you think you are?!”
Me, “I’m you.”
Her, “Oh. Carry on.”
Have you ever dreamed up a song in your sleep? And then you wake up, sort of remembering the cool coffee shop vibe it had, only to forget it a few SECONDS LATER? That happened to me this morning. It was probably five minutes before I woke up, and I was sitting on a tall wooden stool, in this big white room, playing my battered acoustic guitar. Only there was eucalyptus woven throughout all of the strings, which made it a total b-tron to play. But I was writing the most amazing song! And I can’t remember how it goes nowwwaaaaa.
It was like, “You can’t tell me you loved her. Don’t even tell me you loved her.” Something like that. But the melody was longing and painful and powerful.
I swear, I have a freaking zit on my lip and I’m writing dream pain songs. DARN YOU, JESS FROM GILMORE GIRLS. Look what you’ve done to me!
Speaking OF. (this is the official segue into Gilmore talk, so if you want to punch me in the face, just skip this section. but don’t delete me from your life.)
Have you started your Christmas wish list? Or your shopping? Are you done? Halfway done? Almost done? I was panic shopping on the phone with my mom yesterday, shooting links at her like bb pellets, thinking Christmas was 20 minutes from now, when I realized, IT’S DECEMBER THE FIRST, BEVERLY SUE BLANN (<–my maiden name. when I get scoldy with myself I use my maiden name. it feels eerily appropriate.)
But this is what I want for Christmas. A Gilmore Girls t-shirt! But so far, you guys, I hate everything I see. Hate it. All these terrible girly fonts make me want to throw a baby kitten. I need something simple! Something hip! Something not so bible-study-meets-mall-kiosk-y.
So I’m going to make it. I’m going to buy a loose heather-gray v-neck, a package of iron-on letters, and I’m going to DIY this ish. But I need your help! I’m trying to figure out what it should say. This is the tricky part, you know. It needs to be short, to the point, but punchy.
What about:
MY OTHER LIFE IS GILMORE GIRLS.
or
GILMORE GIRL
or
WHY, JESS, WHY?
or
SHOULD WE TALK ABOUT GILMORE GIRLS, ALREADY?
or
I NEED COFFEE AND GILMORE GIRLS. THAT’S BASICALLY IT.
or
IF YOU DON’T WATCH GILMORE GIRLS YOU ARE DEAD TO ME.
or
YES I’M SEVENTEEN YEARS LATE TO THE GILMORE GIRLS PARTY.
or
KIRK WILL FIX IT FOR YOU. MAYBE.
I’m still working on these. Cast your vote! Or help me come up with something better. Or direct me to some non-lame GG shirts! But no weird fonts. Kcoolthanks.
I know all that empty space right there ^^^ is absolutely killing designers. I suck. But! Listen to what I’m going to do. It’s cool, you won’t be mad.
So, Noble Vines wine is partnering up with Ancestry.com in this whole, celebrate-your-roots campaign, and I’m totally getting in on this. Apparently the Noble Vines vines (that are now in California) originally began in France. Just like people! Sort of. So what I’m going to DO, is – wait. Hold on. I’ll tell you under this next photo. It will make more sense. Hold on.
Give me one sec.
Just one sec.
I’m back.
So they sent me this DNA kit, you guys. I’m so C.S.I.! I’m going to spit in that little tube thingy, blindfolded with my hands tied behind my back like a criminal, send it in, and 6-8 weeks from now they’ll send me the results of my heritage findings! I basically want to know if I’m related to Greta Garbo. Or Henry the 8th. One of the two.
And then, I’ll create a recipe based on my true heritage, pair it with the appropriate Noble Vines wine, and share it all with you! I’ve aaaaalways wanted to do something like this, so I’m irrationally excited about this partnership. And by this I mean find out what percent lizard I am.
I’ll try and snap my spit today! Sorry?
Weekend plans?! I’ve been obsessively following the weather forecast for our first chance of snow, and it’s ALL HAPPENING NEXT WEEK. Which isn’t this weekend. So never mind.
I’ll start wrapping the Christmas gifts that will arrive today due to my obnoxious panic shopping. Maybe make a soup? Watch a bunk ton of GG, finally make a December mixtape (I’ll post it this weekend!) and make wreaths with the gremies. See those little branches in the bag above? I’m going to seriously tie some dried lavender and eucalyptus to them and call it good. They’ll look just awful, I’m sure of it.
Wait! What about:
I LEFT MY HEART IN STARS HOLLOW.
WITH JESS AND HIS HYPER-FEATHERED HAIR.
EXCEPT HE SORT OF LEFT ME WHEN YOU THINK ABOUT IT.
Too long?
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