start wearing purple

I just printed out two invoices. They are invoices #00002 and #00003, respectively. And in their sum total, they request $165.50. Which is paltry compared to the invoices I see at work on a daily basis, but for my most minor of minor operations, is pretty fucking awesome. My meeting in Santa Monica last week was kinda weird, to be honest. Probably because it was the first of what will hopefully be a long slew of such rendez-vous, but probably also because I'd never seen this store before and didn't realize how much my stuff would stand out. I've started taking for granted that stationery stores still in business are familiar with letterpress, embossing and other small scale printing techniques, and that the paper good gurus in Portland have reached their tentacles far and wide to pave the way for us mini-squid. Apparently, I am wrong. I continue to mourn the loss of Mimio, the absolutely amazing Japanese paper store that was next to the big DL before they closed shop last December. They would've taken my little cards.

In any case, Santa Monica bought four cards of four designs each. Maybe because she felt bad for making me drive the 27.5 miles out there, or maybe because she likes my handsome, affable brother who introduced us. She kept saying "these are just so different. I just... I've never seen anything like this before." Which might be good, or might be bad, depending. I've honestly never considered them anything but normal for my own interests and a natural extension of who I am. We'll see how they sell for her.

Things at the big DL couldn't be too much better in that department, surprisingly. I spent most of Saturday in the employee bathroom (not using the toilet but) alphabetizing the THOUSANDS of USGS 7.5 minute topo maps of California we foolishly bought off a map store going under. For those of you normal and non-psychopathic enough to have no fucking clue what "USGS 7.5 minute topo map" might mean, think a paper map roughly the size of a small windshield with topographic information. 7.5 minutes refers to just what a tiny quadrangle of land the map depicts, and has something to do with latitude and longitude. And USGS? They're the brilliant, bored bastards of the US Geological Survey who spend public funds camping and drinking beer and hiking and naming their maps things like "Fried Liver Canyon" and "Devil's Golf Course" and "Happy Camp Mountain," and "Damnation Peak." (All of those are real, by the by.) So, uh, when I say that Saturday was all kinds of un-fun, I mean it. Thousands of awkward, large maps separated by saran wrap... that shit is HEAVY. I stupidly volunteered myself for the task, so I guess I deserved it. Anyway. I took a break after finishing the G's (or thinking I had, anyway) and was standing with the other employees shooting the shit when I saw someone BUYING one of my hot air balloon cards as a gift. It was the second of the day, and Wayne said very loudly "aren't those cards cool?" so the customer looked up, a little confused. He said "we happen to be standing next to the artist" and then he pointed at me. I mumbled "uhh, hi." and promptly turned scarlet, I'm sure.

Another thing I stupidly volunteered for? A presentation on Istanbul tomorrow night. The big DL has weekly presentations on Monday nights, and though most are attended by a core group of 70 year old pensioners who heckle and spend nary a dime at the store these days, some of the programs are pretty popular. Last week one of the owners gave a talk on European train travel (she happens to sell Euorail passes and point to point tickets...) and forty-five people showed up. Great for business, I guess, but not fun if you're setting up and taking down the chairs and want to go home right quick. I was hoping they'd forget to advertise my spiel in the LA Times, but they didn't. I googled myself this morning and gaped at the horrifying results. Me. In a legitimate publication. Beurk. And 30 people had signed up by the time I left work today. Double plus beurk. Have I ever mentioned that public speaking and I rarely get along? Have I mentioned that I'm all smoke and mirrors and mostly pay attention to weird shit like food and graffiti and attractive men? And dogs??

My powerpoint presentation has 232 slides. If I don't write a script to accompany, I'll probably choke on my own tongue. WISH ME LUCK. PLEASE. I NEED IT.

Seriously. I need it.

p.s. Why didn't I know Gogol Bordello was weirdly awesome and hot in a sweaty, un-shaved way until recently?