3/16/2009

Fey handmade is my new friend

Hi friends. Yes, things are still crazy busy in my world but I got off work a little bit early today to go to the dentist and happen to have a free half hour to do some posting before I scurry off to furniture making class. Let's do this.

Fey Ways: I've been trying to develop my wholesale for the tea towels a bit more as my own online retail has cooled. Leave it to the experts, that's my opinion. Please say hello to the latest distributor in The Heated's enterprises, Fey Handmade. They're not just carrying tea towels either. They've got The Heated's EP on there too. I'm sure it will fly off the shelves... ok, well I hope they sell some towels anyway. Their site is really lovely. Of course, now this means I need to update my own website with them and Two If By Sea listed as stores. More work! I love work!





Pick It: I've recently had this breakthrough in my guitar playing that involves me using the thinnest guitar pick I can find. It's opened up this new dynamic range that I've found limiting in electric guitar. But I was limiting myself with those thick, manly picks. From now on, it's all wispy, lady-like picks for me.

Scrape It: The dental hygienist I had last time I attended the dentist six months ago almost made me not go back today. Luckily, that bitch was gone and there was a much better hygienist with the greenest eyes I've ever seen. It's like that light blue face mask set those green eyes ablaze. Anyway, the last hygienist I had was not really a bitch but as she was cleaning my teeth, she kept wiping the instruments on the bib I was wearing, instead of a separate piece of gauze, which seemed intuitively wrong. As she wiped, she told me the story of plaque, which basically goes like this, "bugs shit in your mouth."

Then at one point, when my mouth was full of water and my own scraped-off mouth-filth, she asked me if I wanted her to suction it out but in order to answer, I had to swallow and she was all, "Geez, most people don't want to swallow that," and I was thinking that neither did I and that she should have just suctioned, not asked.

Then, before she started scraping, she held up a pair of darkened safety glasses and said, "you're going to want to put these on."

"Why?" I asked and as she struggled with a nicer way to say it, I asked, "splashback?"

"Yes," she said. I found it really strange and I had never, never, ever had anyone offer safety glasses to shield me from my own spit. I put them on but I really didn't want to. Once they were on my face, I could see they were totally spotted with dried liquid. Other people's splashback. Gross. After I removed them, I noticed that she just rinsed them off under the sink, very briefly. Ew. Ew. Ew.

Then at the end, she asked me if I wanted to wipe my face with my bib. Did she mean the bib that she had wiped all my mouth funk? Is that what she meant? Yes, it was. I did not do it. I did not give in to pressure and wipe my own face with my own mouth. She thought I was really weird. In short, it was one of the least hygienic experiences I've had in a while.

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