You’ve only known me a short while, but you KNOW me.
Do I want to go?
Does my Senator (Josh Hawley) run from chaos he helped create?
Yes. The answer is yes.
As some readers may remember, I went to this event in Atlanta. Alone. (I’m the “weird” one.)
But yesterday, it was a family affair.
Mom, sister, niece, nephew
Perhaps I’m jaded, but I felt like the offerings were not as varied as the prior event and were more expensive.
Here are some fresh things I saw but did not buy (because expensive).
A gumball machine filled with cow eyesA creative use for vintage photosPart of a giraffeFun (and horrifying) night lightsThe worst item anyone could dream up for me: a clown doll. IT (the character and the doll) haunts me still.Mothman (To be fair, he wasn’t for sale. Actually, he might have been. I don’t know.)Whatever scene this is
But I did buy two things. Very cheap. Necessary, I felt.
A snakeskin pendant and a chicken foot. Everyone needs a preserved chicken foot. (Yes, everyone. 😄)
So thanks, Fam, for showing me once again that DNA is remarkable.
Dear Readers, You all know how I love a good guest post. Well, my friend Revell — you know, my taxidermy partner in crime — wrote a doozy. Here is his end-of-year rant that he is permitting me to share. He echoes many of my same sentiments and is nothing if not authentic (edited slightly for format and references that might get him into trouble). You might agree with him, you might not, but it is a wild ride full of the F word (be warned). Enjoy! Beth
Just a Yearly Update By Revell
2020 … What the actual fuck? What even happened this year besides complete. Utter. CHAOS???
I don’t think I have ever been tested and pushed to this extent in my entire life, and I don’t doubt for a second the same for you! This may have been the most growth I’ve ever had in a single year or maybe as a human being in general.
This pandemic has had me question every aspect of my journey. Here’s a few key points I learned:
Hold on to your loved ones, celebrate life, and don’t EVER think twice about being 100 percent authentically YOU.
Don’t underestimate your personal power and know that WE REALLY ARE stronger in numbers.
Speak up for what’s right, call people out on their bullshit, keep friends close who also call you out on your bullshit, be held accountable, and don’t ever stop pushing to be a better person.
Being fired does not mean you were in the wrong or that you didn’t kill it at your job.
You can be in love with more than one person.
Mental health is real and you are not crazy.
Georgia is fucking BLUE!
Know your self worth, and don’t let people or corporations take advantage of you.
No matter how cute and adorable, small powdery moths are not your friends and will potentially eat everything you own.
Do not trust Nanna without a mask.
Love your family unconditionally, especially when they make it through COVID alive! FUCK — when YOU make it through COVID alive!
Dental care is still wayyyyyy too fucking expensive, and even when you try to be proactive about self care and the insurance money you paid into, you STILL get fucked! Well, unless it’s your cat and every tooth needs to be pulled at the most inconvenient time possible. So yeah! FUCKED!
Give yourself opportunities to grow and make yourself uncomfortable.
When someone laughs at your dreams or ideas and tells you they are not possible, just prove them wrong.
Peanut butter and Ramen noodles will keep you alive in a pandemic.
Credit Karma is an app and also part of being an adult now.
White men are still the worst! Especially fuckin’ Boomers.
Bernie’s campaign was smeared by the Democratic Party … AGAIN!
This country was founded on slavery, and if you’re not jaded, you’re obviously. NOT. listening. Fuck a confederate monument.
Socialism means all we want is healthcare … in … a … pandemic! Weird right?
I’m a queer, loud, unapologetic abolitionist with no regrets!
Well, one regret: that antique mirror at that one estate sale I decided not to buy on my credit card with money I didn’t have. Def a regret!
Fuck fascists, centrists and the “American dream.”
Trans women ARE real women!
When you’re starving in pandemic, just EAT THE FUCKIN’ RICH!
Harry Potter is fucking canceled, and J.K. Rowling ruined my childhood! What a TERF!
Still bitter about Taco Bell not selling potatoes.
And who knew that Paris Hilton’s vote-or-die campaign had such relevance now in 2020. The reality is vote, or FUCKING DIE!
I hope you are better than 2020. (2020 can suck it.)
I’m not one for resolutions. I usually declare things I won’t do or won’t give up. Just to be contrary. (Look. Listen. Give me this one rebellious thing. That’s about the only one!)
Put up with less than I need/deserve/worked for, etc. I am not a “Welcome!” mat. Mixed progress: I occasionally washed other people’s dishes and clothes, but I got better about calmly explaining what was bothering me.
Save money. Yeah, I know I should, but let’s be honest: I won’t. Success: I didn’t.
Stay home. I want to say “absof–kinlutely” to adventures near and far. Dream scenario: I get paid to write about it. Fail: I think we all know what happened this year.
Continue procrastinating on my book. This is the year I finish it, write the proposal, and find an agent. If E.L. James can become rich and famous off her trashTwilight fan fictionwork, so can I. Fail: I did absolutely no work on it. Lack of motivation, thy name is COVID-19.
Lose more than just five more pounds. I’m calling that my “wine cushion.” Success: I found a few pounds more of me. Pandemic pounds FTW!
Stay in this place with the small kitchen. When it’s a pain to make things as fairly easy as Scotch eggs, it’s time to upgrade. Success: We moved to a larger place with a slightly larger kitchen.
Ignore show suggestions from certain like-minded people. I resisted watching “Killing Eve.” I was stupid. Success: I’m even taking suggestions from randos on Twitter. I’ve got some issues with “Bridgerton.” Who wants to chat about it with me?
Let people try to make me feel even slightly embarrassed about my love of bad taxidermy. Those uptight people can shove it. My obsession is Hando approved. Success: I let my freak flag fly this year to positive results.
Vote for Trump. Duh. Success: Duh.
Stop writing blog posts at least twice a week. I’ve been keeping this pace since April, so I’m pretty proud of myself. Success-ish: I was doing well until the holidays. I blame Netflix.
In 2021, I will not:
Take for granted the ability to hug friends, see a movie in a theater, see live music, eat in a restaurant, travel, go out without a mask, work out at the gym, etc.
Take for granted physical mobility. (This was the year I broke my ankle and damaged my rotator cuff. So that’s been fun.)
Lament a packed schedule of in-person meetings.
Ever get off political mailing lists, apparently.
Be able to wear real shoes again without dealing with discomfort. (I wore flip flops for six months straight.)
Today we have been married longer than many of my students have been alive.
Yikes.
One of your friends wrote on Facebook about her parents being married 58 years. She said, “It has never been perfect, but it has always been interesting.”
Yeah. What she said.
The last couple of years have been TOUGH for us. Hormonal teenagers, a big move, new jobs, a PANDEMIC — many factors have made it difficult.
I try to remember why we’ve lasted this long.
It can be summed up in two photos:
This is actually when my obsession with bad taxidermy began: Eddie and I were replicating specimens while waiting for a kids field trip to begin.
Clearly the same sense of humor.
In fact, this time five years ago, we were in Italy. One of the highlights of the trip was taking photos with a man sleeping next to us at a restaurant.
We ended up seeing our new friend the next day. He was looking a bit worse for wear.
Interestingly, later in the trip we became somewhat of a zoo exhibit ourselves.
Yes, those are the fish that eat dead skin.
In addition to the funny factor, you also are willing to go along with my crazy plans.
Halloween 2012: I handled the costumes and makeup. I’m crafty once a year.
We also find the same things horrifying. Like a house full of dolls and tchotchkes. Shudder.
Your face says it all.
Thank you for two great kids and many years of good memories. Hope we can keep on laughing!
I have a terminal degree in my field, work in higher education and wear suits/dresses to work (even in the age of COVID-19).
You’d trust me to teach and mentor your college-aged children, right?
But under the collar of my professional lady clothes, my neck is red.
Proof:
I’m barefoot even as I write this. When we lived on a lake in Savannah, I could go days without wearing shoes. I never let myself get Jiffy Feet, though. That’s gross.
I used to drive a crappy Ford pickup truck. Stick shift. So old the shine was gone from the paint. I recarpeted it myself. Sometimes when Eddie drove it, I’d roll down the window and stick those bare feet out of it.
Give me a beer over a cocktail any day.
I don’t have anything against boxed wine.
My favorite summer outfit features a concert T-shirt and cutoff jeans. (Not Daisy Dukes, though. I have kids.)
You and I clearly are kindred spirits. My friend Nick mentioned your Museum of Curiosities as a place to check out the next time I was in London. In fact, he specifically said this:
It looks like how I imagine the inside of your head looks.
Well, he’s not wrong.
My head is filled with flotsam and jetsam, much like your museum.
In fact, your website celebrates the lack of categorization as part of the mission.
This museum will merely display everything that has glittered & caught the eye of it’s founder.
I just want to take a moment to recognize your genius. Where else can a jar of Amy Winehouse’s poop live alongside some terrible taxidermy?
As I was able to visit recently, here are some visual aids for readers who think I’m kidding:
This is pretty bad, even as bad taxidermy goes.
And part of Amy outside her music lives on.
BFs 4EVA!
It must be weird to be a celebrity whose detritus is museum worthy.
There is plenty going on in this case. Almost too much for intake.
Id like to copy edit the museum mission statement, but I won’t. Here it is with all its charm intact:
The Museum has no overreaching aim beyond the theft of it’s visitors time and the hope that it will provide amusement by return & hopes to fill the vacuum between what the establishment elite believes is worthy of worship & what exists in the world.
Good news: It did ABSOLUTELY provide amusement. This is exactly the sort of place that provides a perfect afternoon for me.
Warning: This post contains graphic images of a dead animal.
Dear Eddie, Dominic and Gideon,
Thank you so much for giving me the best Christmas gift ever: a taxidermy class at Rainy Day Revival down the street. It is the gift that keeps on giving, as I learned two things:
I really like practicing the art of taxidermy and not just admiring it.
It appears I’m good at it.
You know I’ve been trying to take a taxidermy class for years — since before we moved to Atlanta. The ones at Graveface kept getting cancelled as they didn’t fill up.
Not so with the RDR one: It sold out quickly.
Revell, the man in charge of my hair, and I have similar interests. His boyfriend bought him a seat in the class for Christmas too!
We practically rushed into the room as soon as it opened. Revell chose a fluffy black bunny, so I picked the one across for convenience.
The instructor, Nina, had us start with painting or staining our plaques. Then we had to massage our still-partially frozen yet “ethically sourced” rabbit. (No, I don’t know what that means. Various websites say various things. I didn’t ask. Ignorance is bliss.)
Here’s my rabbit, Roger (of course), lying in state — massaged and thawed.
Next we had to turn our rabbits inside out to remove the skull.
You would think this would be gross, but all the Borax we put on them helped dry things out. Plus, you know I watch plenty of medical and forensic reality shows.
Nina came by to check on progress and gave me props for not popping the eyes and keeping my lids intact.
See! I’m a natural!
Nina then announced this, which is something I never thought I’d hear:
Once you take your face off, stop: We’re going to take a break.
So we took a break.
Revell and I had fun with our gross puppets.
After the break, we made a new skull out of the kind of foam stuff that goes in the bottom of funeral arrangements. Apropos, no?
Roger starts to look more like himself again.
But see how his nose is a little mushed in? I got the bright idea to plump it up with some clay. Nina’s mom, who helps with the classes, was skeptical. Then she saw the end result.
Oh! You were totally right! That looks much better.
I’m an artist, I tell you.
Once we were done, we lingered in the shop waiting for Nina to mount them on our plaques. (Power tools + expertise = much quicker to get through all 30)
I had plenty of time to admire the wares — and dream of bigger projects.
Finally, Roger and I were reunited.
It will be two weeks until he “cures” completely and his bandages come off.
And you three will be forced to look at enjoy him in a place of pride at home.
So thank you for this gift. I had a great time, and I’m proud of myself.
Put up with less than I need/deserve/worked for, etc. I am not a “Welcome!” mat.
Save money. Yeah, I know I should, but let’s be honest: I won’t.
Stay home. I want to say “absof–kinlutely” to adventures near and far. Dream scenario: I get paid to write about it.
Continue procrastinating on my book. This is the year I finish it, write the proposal, and find an agent. If E.L. James can become rich and famous off her trashTwilight fan fictionwork, so can I.
Lose more than just five more pounds. I’m calling that my “wine cushion.”
Stay in this place with the small kitchen. When it’s a pain to make things as fairly easy as Scotch eggs, it’s time to upgrade.
Ignore show suggestions from certain like-minded people. I resisted watching “Killing Eve.” I was stupid.
Let people try to make me feel even slightly embarrassed about my love of bad taxidermy. Those uptight people can shove it. My obsession is Hando approved.
Vote for Trump. Duh.
Stop writing blog posts at least twice a week. I’ve been keeping this pace since April, so I’m pretty proud of myself.
What are your anti-resolutions? Tell me in the comments.
Though you didn’t come through with anything on my previous list (in fact, my eye is worse), you worked through my family to ensure I had a great Christmas.
Just look:
I coveted this shirt. Eddie has one from his pals at CrossFit Steadfast in Savannah. I donate to Goat Yoga Lisa‘s fundraising campaign every year. Now I have a shirt of my own!
This is the gift that will keep on giving. Not only am I excited about learning how to do this art at the February class, but I can write about it. I’m going with Revell, the guy who cuts my hair. So that should be a hoot.
Observe and report 