December 31

Happy New Year!

And so today ends the Instagram project of 2013.

I’ve learned a lot of things this year, including that I’m not photogenic. A good selfie is hard to achieve. It’s easier to photobomb a stranger than it is to take a decent self-portrait. My good photos of anything are a complete and total fluke. Filters will help everything. My children find me embarrassing. I can never flip out my iPhone for a photo fast enough, and will therefore lose the shot of the bald eagle flying over Wayne and Middle Belt. Food porn is the best porn of all. My animals will die. My stomach is fat. My husband looks like shit when  he’s sick. The camera NEVER lies.

During this last year, I’ve managed to devote a whopping five minutes of time each day to the Instagram project. Which is amazing. Five minutes times 365 equals 1,825 minutes, divided into 60 minutes (for an hour), makes a grand total of 30.41 hours toward the project.

Obviously, I could be using this time doing something else. Like writing. So next year I will devote at least five minutes a day for writing. Maybe I’ll finish a book?

I started last year in a favorite chair with a cat.

I am ending the year in the same chair with another cat. Not the same one, obviously.

Time marches on.

Happy New Year.

Goodbye 2013.

Goodbye My Life in Instagram 2013.

It’s time for new projects, new horizons, and right now, a new bottle of champagne.

Stay safe and sweet, and see you in the Interwebs.

Filter: Amaro

PS If you wish to follow my other exploits, tune in HERE.

July 20

Part of the Art Fair deal is that we have to booth sit for artists who are at the fair alone.

Honestly, I don’t know how a single person can do four 12+ hour days all by themselves. Everyone needs a bathroom break, or to get something to eat. Artists are a hardy bunch, which is why I don’t do art fairs by myself. I’m not that hardy.

While sitting for a photographer, I ended up buying this.

I know. I’m not supposed to spend money. But he cut me a deal.

Plus, how could I resist?

PS That’s my thumb.

Filter: None

June 12

Copper.

It’s the new silver.

Filter: Rise

June 9

Working.

Listening to Carly Rae.

It’s a way stupid, yet infectious song.

Call me maybe.

Filter: Mayfair

June 4

Bored.

Realized my body parts are boring too.

My jewelry, however, is not.

Ew. My hands are wrinkly. When did that happen?

My daughter thinks she’s getting this ring when I die. She might, if I don’t have to hock it for food. You never know. I’m hoping for the best but preparing for the worst. The way I see it, we (civilization) haven’t had a really big disaster in a long time. We are DUE.

Filter: Valencia

 

June 1

SUMMER! It’s finally here.

I think.

This is me and my morning cup o’ Jo. (Jo and Jo…get it???)

Since going on this Instagram-selfie voyage this year, I can see what hipsters young and old need: a third hand for holding props.

In jewelry work, we employ “third hands” for holding up items while you work on some other part of the piece. Some incredibly ambitious hipster should invent this.

Oh, I forgot. Hipsters aren’t very ambitious.

Filter: Willow

May 23

Instagrammers call Thursday “Throwback Thursday.” You are supposed to post some sort of photo from back in the day. Here is mine:

That’s me on the far right frowning. My mother used to do this all the time: line us all up for a photo, then whack me on the top of the head. (Full disclosure: I might have been acting up and deserved a sound thumping.) Now that I look at this photo, my darling little-est sister (at the time) was giddy, much like she always is, and my middle sister was a combination of clueless and otherwise absorbed elsewhere. Much like she is now.

My mother used to dress us like triplets. I did not like it much.

And you thought YOUR mother was a piece of work.

Filter: None. After all, it’s Throwback Thursday.

May 15

Late night last night.

No, it’s not what you think. I had my jewelry class, and stayed to the end of it, instead of bombing out mid-class. My normal bedtime is 8:30 p.m. I was busy cutting jump rings. I know. It’s not very exciting, but you don’t know me and the Flex shaft. It’s a love-hate relationship.

Anyway, once I got home, I couldn’t fall asleep. Even though I was sleepy. My mind was churning with creativity. I wanted to use my jump rings, dammit.

So me and my big shoulder really didn’t want to wake up today.

But I did.

Filter: 1977

April 24

I decided to get a pedicure!

I chose a color that would complement my naturally purple wardrobe.

It was my first pedie since the son got married. In October, 2011.

That night, we’d gone for a girls’ night out, me, the daughter, the impending daughter in law, and the daughter’s friend. It was a good time. After our afternoon of beau-you-tay, I even bought a macaroon shaped like a penis and chocolate covered.

It took many months before that color wore off (gel – I wouldn’t recommend it), so I was turned off by the whole ritual.

The pedicure lasted longer than the honeymoon. *sigh*

Filter: Nashville

April 16

Sad day yesterday in Boston.

Heavy duty prayers from me to you.

As for our household, the two old girls are up early.

Filter: Amaro