Fancy Meeting You Here

I see that you were so happy about my last post that you're back for more!  I'm only too happy to give it to you.  Just like I was so happy to give myself a new wallet last month.  Check check it:



I heart this liberty print so hard that it's lucky I'm a married woman.  When I finished these wallets, I immediately knew that this was THE ONE.  As you can see, my old wallet was looking a little sad, which is not good for when people ask you what kind of stuff you make.  I usually use my wallet as an example, so I always keep a one dollar bill wrapped about my many, many benjamins.  Ok, fine.  It's a Jackson and some Lincolns if I'm lucky.  I've been rocking that old wallet for years, and I'm pretty sure if I washed it it would look brand new again.  I just wanted one that was actually brand new.



Sometimes I get messages asking how much stuff they can actually fit into one of my small wallets, and the official Hot Butter approved answer is "Probably too much stuff will fit in your wallet."  I'm going to be honest here, my wallet snaps and looks fine, but it could probably do with a few less reward cards.  I don't want to use the tiny ones on my keychain either.  I'm not sure what the answer is to this problem.  Maybe I should get a keychain that is for rewards cards only?  Problem solved!



In other Hot Butter specific news, I've gone back to my original labels.  I used to always use ink jet fabric paper that you print your design on directly.  I got the iron on kind so I didn't have to worry about keeping it straight while I was sewing it.  Then I discovered iron on transfers were way cheaper, and have been using those for a long time now.  My original labels were on sale at JoAnns one morning that I happened to be there, and I bought some of those.  Oh my goodness label gracious, ya'll.  These are way better.  I'll be using JoAnns coupons from now on and scoring only high quality, no transferring, easy peasy good looking labels for your brand enjoyment.

Oh man, I was on blog fire and now I'm writing about labels.  I'll entice you back for my next post with this heavily edited photo of me and my sister's dog Buster making out:



The only reason this photo exists is to make my sister jealous of how much her dog loves my face more than he loves hers.  It's like using her heart as an ashtray.  Just kidding.  I love you Alyssa, but not as much as Buster loves me.  The end!

What the what?

This is like a zombie blog because you thought it was dead, but it's totally not.  Let us not shoot it in the head or hit it with a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire (hi new friends who searched "baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire" on google and ended up here!), but be patient and let me warm it up a bit and see if it just needs stitches instead of beheading.

I'm obviously off to a good start already.  Some stuff that has been going on at Butter mansion while I was not updating my blog:



One unseasonably warm January afternoon, my dear friend Andrew and I found ourselves dining on a patio with this guy, who I named "Beast" for obvious reasons.  Check out the mane on this badass mofo.



He was huge and friendly and probably not clean, but I pet him anyway.  I think he's like the neighborhood cat.  There was a water bowl for him and he was obviously well fed (probs by his own hunting skills).  This was the same day that I saw a coyote in Prairie Dog Town at the corner of Arapahoe and Cherryvale, so a pretty good day for wild animals if you ask me.  After a walk around downtown I stopped back at the patio and found him napping where I left him and gave him a big beastly goodbye petting time.  AWESOME.



The days are getting longer around here, which I could appreciate wholeheartedly if it didn't mean missing out on sunrises like this.  I wake up wicked early a few times a week to get Felix ready for school, and it's been well before the butt crack of dawn for months now.  If I'm lucky I catch a sunrise as powerful and glorious as this one.  These days wake up time is after the butt crack of dawn, and I'm missing this majesty already.  No way I'd wake up earlier.  Guess I'll have to wait until next winter.  That's something to look forward to, I guess.



And last, but not least, Mr. Chainsaw helped me buy a brand new (to me!) Juki industrial machine last weekend.  That means I'm excited to take Hot Butter into the future with speedier sewing speeds (speeeed!) and heavier materials, like LEATHER.  I'm still researching what thread to buy.  Buying a big ass cone of thread is kind of a commitment, and I want to make sure I'm wasting my doubloons on the wrong stuff.  If anybody needs an industrial sewing machine hookup in Denver, let me know.  I gotta guy.  My heavy new sewing mistress used to live in a factory in New Mexico (I think, I'm not always spot on- memory skill wise) and will now be getting the cushy basement retirement it always dreamed of.

So all said, I've been petting wild cats, seeing coyotes and sunsets, and buying heavy machines that I haven't actually used yet (but I haven't had it long enough to be procrastinating, I swear).  Also, wouldn't Beast and Jezebel make beautiful babies?

Home again, home again.

Friday night I returned home from my trip to visit Laura in Washington for her birthday.  It was awesome, but I do have a couple of weird things to tell you.


This blog post ended up weird, so here's a weird picture of Felix wearing Beverly on his birthday.


On my flight there, I had the window seat.  Of course the gentlemen who were my row-mates were already there, so I had to have them scoot so I could get in.  The armrest that SHOULD have been separating me from seat 6B was up.  Think about that for a second.  It was up.

I was snuggling with a stranger who was eating smelly Asian Panda or some shit for breakfast at 8 am.  He was also listening to Snoop Dogg on his phone (with headphones, but I could hear it all), so I didn't dislike him, just his choice of "breakfast."  His body was taking up at least 1/3 of my already tiny seat.

I sat there for several minutes with out side meats intimately rubbing with every move he made.  I was planning on going to sleep asap, so I was starting to get nervous about that armrest.  What if I fell asleep and drooled on his shoulder?  What if I got cold and began ACTIVELY SNUGGLING A STRANGER in my sleep?! Yikes!!

Eventually I just looked at him and told him I was putting the armrest down, which he was cool enough about.  He did complain after that the seat was too small (he wasn't big or anything), but at least I didn't have to share 1/3 of my seat with him anymore.  Schwew.  Then he drank Jack Daniels straight up with his egg rolls, and damn, that shit smells nasty at 8am on an empty stomach.  Good story, right?

I meant to post about my trip, but I appear to have just written a whole blog post about 10 minutes of air plane stranger snuggling.  Oops.  I might as well tell you what annoyed me on the plane ride home:  A kid who was maybe 10 (old enough to not be an asshole on a plane, if you ask me) shook his cup of ice back and forth for 20 minutes until he apparently spilled it and got yelled at by his moms.  Then he proceeded to punch or kick the back of my seat for most of the flight.  Sometimes he'd stand up and lean over the back of my chair, which involved him pulling the shit out of my hair.  I tried my best to tune him out, but he was persistent in his effort to drive me crazy for two hours.

You win kid. Actually, we both win because I did not give in to my temptations to throw your motherforking cup of ice in your face and kick you in the front of your seat.  For the record, I only kick children in my darkest revenge fantasies.  Oh cripes, I'm getting myself into trouble here.  I would NEVER.  The ice thing, maybe that could happen.

Here's Laura and I hugging a big ass tree in the old growth forest to whet your appetites for more Washington adventures.

Cat Beach

We were directed to the tippy tip tip of South Beach one lovely evening as the best place to catch a pretty sunset.  Pretty sunset?  Check.



Imagine my surprise when we discovered that this pretty spot was infested with glorious wild beasts!  Every few steps we saw another cat!



Oh look!  It's Jezebel's beach cousin!



This cat is possibly a witch's familiar.  It's also possibly AWESOME.



Action Cat! This cat needs a cape.



Kittens!  Awww!





The Chainsaw is some sort of cat whisperer.  See him here trying to whisper in some cats?  He failed.  Do you know who succeeded?  ME!  I pet some wild, possibly diseased cats.  And then I ate a mahi mahi sandwich without washing my hands first because I laugh in the face of danger!



These are the cats I pet.  Somebody really wanted to catch all these cats and put them in her suitcase.  Not naming any names.

Anywho, I highly suggest any peoples who love both cats and beaches to check out Cat Beach.  I have no idea what this beach is called by people who don't know that there couldn't be a better name for this place than Cat Beach.  Here are some directions.  Go to South Beach.  Walk to the southest part.  Ok, I just looked it up, and it's called South Pointe Park, which does make some sense, I guess.

Is it bad that the next post in my head also involves a cat?  Not my own, mind you!  I'm not some crazy cat lady obsessed with my own cats.  Or am I?  Jezebel needs a kill chart.  Which sounds better: Jezeslayer or Slayerbel

I'm off to clean the shit out of my house, yo!  We're celebrating Felix's SIXTH trip around the sun, yo!  Can you believe that?  Tomorrow's the party.  Tuesdays the birthday.

Concert Week

Hello friends!  I had the big dirty pleasure of seeing not one, but two of my favorite bands within a few days of each other.  LUCKY!  That's my birthday month for you, totally awesome.

Chainsaw took me to see Gogol Bordello for my (super early) birthday present.  It was amazing.  They put on an awesome show, and the Boulder Theater is my favorite place to see them so far.  It's cozy.



I wore my star crown over a hair do I called the "French Whore." Chainsaw said I looked like the sea witch.  You know, Ursula.  To that, I said thanks and told him that I just needed his voice.

My two favorite parts of any GB show:

1. When Eugene takes his shirt off and reveals his skinny, sweaty man glory!  Ha, that sounds dirty.  I mostly just like that he rocks so hard that he uh, gets too hot? Whatever.  NEXT.

2.  When Eugene starts carrying a bottle of red wine around with him.  He thirsty.

Thirsty like the guy who spilled a good portion of his vodka Red Bull down my arm while trying to put the moves on me, then offering to "wash me" to make it all better.  He'd use soap and everything.  Boy, please.

Saturday I went on a date with my own fantastic self to see Diego's Umbrella at Cervante's in Denver.  They had some kind of troupe of people I lovingly refer to as "The Freak Show" present to entertain us.  I'm talking aerial dancing, dudes made out of mirrors, some magic crystal ball hands dude, dancing hula hoop ladies, fire dancers, etc.  Never a dull moment!

Also, the disco ball in the ballroom is badass sexy times 1000.  I need this for my house.  

I was standing there, watching the mirrored man when some gentlemen asked me if he was my boyfriend.  I told them that I'm not cool enough for that guy, plus he'd tear me up with all those sharp mirrors when we're making out.  Ha!

And here's a shitty shitty picture I took of Diego's Umbrella rocking out complete with party drum.  I couldn't be bothered to try to take any more/better pictures because I was too busy grooving.  Following the DU show, I found myself back in the ballroom shaking it to some funky jazzy stuff.  It was super fun! Then I left before the headliners (have no idea who they were) came on because I was by myself and it was midnight.  Mama needed to stay awake for the drive home.

All in all, concert week was a resounding success.  I find that I'm not opposed to taking myself out solo if there's dancing on the line!

Disney World!

This is what some people look like while they're waiting for the first of several Disney transportation devices you have to take to get to the Magical Kingdom from the parking lot.  We parked in the villains lot.  Caption Hook Section.  Anyway, it's an excited look!





Some of ya'll know I harbor a great love of camels.  They're so badass and silly at the same time.  My animal hero!







Felix was scared of EVERYTHING. We paid him $1 for every bravery test ride he had to take to spend later at Legoland.



I love this picture for obvious reasons.  Are the reasons not obvious to you?  Ok, I'll explain.  That guy.  His lady friend.  Also that print on my top plus the place my body got cut off makes my boobs look both huge and weird.  Hey boobs!  You are kind of big and weird.  This picture captured your personalities!



It's a Small World is probably my favorite ride.  I feel like I'm on drugs, but no drugs are allowed at Disney World.  The magic is the drugs!!





Felix loves Pluto!



I loooove Felix's face when the fireworks started!  He was oohing and ahhing audibly, not just inside like I was!







This is  us at the end of the night, waiting for the second leg of our trip back to the villains lot, Captain Hook section.  We are tired, freezing, and our shoes hurt.

Thanks for letting me post one thousandy pictures.  Oh wait!  I do what I want.  Now have an awesome weekend.  Was that bossy?  Good.

The Shop Has Been Updated

Like nobody's business.  I worked on this all morning.



Muchos Love Bullets pouches are back on the "shelf," and by shelf I mean in a nice box in the basement waiting to go to a new home.  Please adopt one now.  *cues up some Sarah MacLachlan



I made a bunch of new pouches with words appliqued on they fronts.  This pouch is going to be somebody's lucky pouch.  I know it.  Take it to the casino!  Take it to lunch with your mom (maybe she'll stop trying to be the boss of you!)!  Take it out to the movies and buy it its own ticket because it's lucky like that.



The lucky pouch even has a sister.  Who knew?





New wallets are also available.  A few of them are actually old wallets, making them new old wallets because I haven't clapped my eyes on them in a couple years.  They had been for sale in a store that just got them back to me, and I was excited to see them.  Of course, I would have been more excited about them being sold, but they are so gosh darn cute that I think I was meant to be reunited with them.  There's one I might keep for myself if it doesn't sell in a reasonable amount of time.

Hm.  Well.  Tomorrow I'm going to start work on some special request items, go out with my cosmic brother Andrew, eat 4 clementines (because I ate 3 today, gotta break the record!), and rock my socks off at the Boulder Theater to some Gogol Bordello with my main man Chainsaw, who was so sweet to respond positively to my conning him into buying me tickets as a 3 weeks early birthday present.  And I'll wash my hair.  Probably.