The Artisan / Craftsman Idea Was A Bust.

It had been my intention to write an entry about the difference between an artisan and a craftsman. In preparation, I asked around the internet for what others thought the difference was. This was one example of the answers I got:

An artisan is a crafstman--at least as I've ever heard the word being used. You're asking about the difference between an artist and a craftsman.

There you go. Got my answer AND learned I was pretty stupid at the same time.

So now what do I make this entry about? I finished all the chores I set up for myself. I even made a stop at my local dollar store. A store in which very few items cost a dollar. And inflation made them change their name from the 99 Cent store. Didn't get to Home Desperate so I don't have the wire (or the molding) for the Display Thingy. Hmmmm, what happened yesterday that is worthy of writing about? Why, I can't think of anyth. . ..

Oh yeah! The earth, it moved under my feet (the sky, however, did not come tumbling down)! I'm gonna tell my earthquake story and all the Californians can laugh at me and my n00b reactions. Hey, it has already been established that I'm quite dumb (see: artisan/craftsman above).

Like I said, I got all my chores done and I settled down on my workspace (I say "on" my workspace because my workspace is my bed) to both decoupage a box and make a pair of earrings. I was doing both at the same time because I'm that awesome, plus some of supplies for both these projects were special and shared. There I was, minding my own business, when Plunket, one of my two cats, had a scratching fit that wouldn't stop. Stupid cat, he's messing me up! But the cat isn't scratching. I go to yell at him and see that he is lifting his head, annoyed that the bed shaking woke him up.

Seeing as how the cat is annoyed about it, I can not be imagining that the bed is shaking. Or that it is now scooting across the floor. Poltergeists? Am I now going to have to admit to my hubby that he was right all along and ghosts really do exist? Because why else would my bed be scooting across the room like this?

O.K., now what? What the hell is that rhythmic creaking noise? What the fu. . . oh no, the ceiling fan /light combo has gotten into the tequila! It's drunk and swinging around like a sailor at midnight on Fleet Week. Oh shit! The roof is falling down! I knew we should have gotten that fucker fixed while I still had a job. Good Lord, if it's gonna collapse, perhaps I should get the hell away from it. I should run. . .. Oh, it stopped.

Not two minutes later the telephone rings. It was only then that I figured out what the hell just happened. It was hubby. I snatched the phone up and said, "Did you call to tell me we just had an earthquake and I'm not at all losing my mind?" "Hell yeah!" he answered all excited like he just got a bike for Christmas, "Did you feel that?"

The earrings I was making at the time are now called Earthquake. Wanna see 'em? If you don't, close your eyes because here they come!

These are not yet up on my Etsy. How could they be. I only just finished making them last night.