Have you guys had a bad day lately?
Oh man, for your sake, I hope it wasn't as bad as ours.
Our awesome HP laptop, Master Boo, DIED today - only one day before our big clearance sale! What a damper, right?! Now, we're having to resort to using our Wii for an internet connection. So, if our typing seems a little clunky lately...well, we're typing with a Wii remote so...hahaha.
At least we got the sale off and running....but because of our limited connection, we started it a bit early!
OH, but here's the bright part of our day! Before our computer died, we made our FIRST Etsy purchase!!
White Chocolate Cherry CupCake Truffles from http://tabbycat13.etsy.com
Yes, those little delights are coming our way straight from the Fancy Lady herself! And we are ridiculously excited about it! Aren't they scrumptious!? I can't help but drool! They look fit for a queen...or two goofy artistic-types who've had a bad day. :-D
Well, I could keep going on with the BADNESS of this day, but I'd rather leave on a high note.
PLEASE tell me you've had a better day than us! We'd love to hear some happy stories, after the death of our beloved Master Boo the HP laptop.
Until later,
(unless something goes incredibly wrong)
-Kateri Joe
P.S. In light of this bad day, we didn't get to go on our planned hike. So, we can't share sweaty pictures quite yet. But, for me, that could be a good thing...bahaha!
P.S.S. Par usual, that picture is owned by The Fancy Lady. :-) 'Just so youz knowz.
Monday, August 31, 2009
An Explanation
Hey guys! It's once again Kateri Joe at the helm.
You might have noticed that our spider buddy has gotten a new sign as a friend that speaks of yet another P.C. sale. Here's the explanation:
Jonathan and I are wanting to give everyone a last chance to snatch up anything in the Peculiar Curiosities shop while it's still available. After September 13th, those items (like Dr. Bubonic and Brendan) will be gone for good to make room for curious specimens such as this guy:
Monster embryo, phase three.
Rawr! *giggles*
You know what this means, right!? We're two weeks away from opening up the new shop! And, when we mean NEW, we mean brand-spanking-kick-you-in-the-face-with-sweet-action NEW! We'll even have this thing called FOCUS! Oooh, it will be zesty!
Okay, enough with the shameless promotion. End now.
On another note, it feels fantastic to be back to blogging again! I hope that in the month-long span that we were away that everyone met good times of some sort.
Jonathan and I were busy, par usual, but we did manage to find time to enjoy the last of this unusually cool Arkansas summer: We went hiking! And, if all goes well, we should be venturing off for another one tomorrow. Maybe, just maybe, we'll share some pictures of the sweaty adventures. *wink*
After our infestation of Petit Jean Mountain,
-Kateri Joe
You might have noticed that our spider buddy has gotten a new sign as a friend that speaks of yet another P.C. sale. Here's the explanation:
Jonathan and I are wanting to give everyone a last chance to snatch up anything in the Peculiar Curiosities shop while it's still available. After September 13th, those items (like Dr. Bubonic and Brendan) will be gone for good to make room for curious specimens such as this guy:
Monster embryo, phase three.
Rawr! *giggles*
You know what this means, right!? We're two weeks away from opening up the new shop! And, when we mean NEW, we mean brand-spanking-kick-you-in-the-face-with-sweet-action NEW! We'll even have this thing called FOCUS! Oooh, it will be zesty!
Okay, enough with the shameless promotion. End now.
On another note, it feels fantastic to be back to blogging again! I hope that in the month-long span that we were away that everyone met good times of some sort.
Jonathan and I were busy, par usual, but we did manage to find time to enjoy the last of this unusually cool Arkansas summer: We went hiking! And, if all goes well, we should be venturing off for another one tomorrow. Maybe, just maybe, we'll share some pictures of the sweaty adventures. *wink*
After our infestation of Petit Jean Mountain,
-Kateri Joe
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Music Trippin'
Heidi-ho, ladies and gentlemen! It's your long silent friend Kateri Joe at the keyboard tonight. I've been plugging away at revitalizing Peculiar Curiosities! Oooh, you guys should see it...it's going to be bizarre! Two words: Victorian laboratory. *giggles*
Speaking of the upgrade, the Etsy storefront will actually be changing on September 14th! We'll give you more details on that in a later post.
Today's topic is about a fun little exercise that Jonathan and I seem to do all of the time: The epic event of venturing down memory lane to the music, both good and bad, of our life so far.
So, here I present to you a small representation the music of my life. It's going to be a gruesome journey, but insightful to say the least.
First song in my memory: Billy Ray Cyrus Achy Breaky Heart
At the age of three or four, this FANTASTIC train wreck of a song became a constant on the airwaves in Arkansas. Being young and impressionable, somehow I managed to find my four-year-old self singing this song (and dancing to it) one random Sunday after mass to my father. Yeah, Dad, don't break my heart...my achy breaky heart. Never again will I sing country music with such Arkansan pride.
Somewhere around the age of nine: Natalie Imbruglia Torn
I'm the youngest kid in my family. I have six older siblings, all of which were pretty much out of the house by the time I was seven years old. With that age gap, none of them were consistently in my life. So, when this song started playing during one of the rare occasions of alone time with my older brother Ben, it was kind of awkward. Maybe I didn't help by humming to it...maybe.
On the edge of my freshman year of high school: Dirty Vegas Days Go By
Pubescent Kateri was showing signs of growing into her skin. Yeah, I still love this song. I played it for hours in my fake Walkman CD player while on a family road trip, with the rolling scenery of the Southwest playing in front of my eyes from the backseat of a Jeep. Imagine the oranges, yellows, and blues running together while this song droned on with it's killer beat. Heavenly.
A year ago, just before my 3rd year in college: H.I.M. Venus Doom
Tired and usually annoyed, this song (and the album matching it's name) played in my car rides to and from working a full day at my university's academic advising center. Yes, I'd sing this song at the top of my lungs in the car after a day of being chewed out by misguided parents over the phone who just KNEW that I, being the office student secretary, somehow messed up their precious, and dependent college student's schedule. It seemed to ease some tension, I'd say.
Eh, that's just a taste of my musical timeline. Somewhere in the mix, you could throw in some Marcy Playground, Savage Garden, N*Sync *groan*, The Teenagers...but this is an overview. Billy Ray Cyrus is pretty rough, huh?
Until next time,
-Kateri Joe
Speaking of the upgrade, the Etsy storefront will actually be changing on September 14th! We'll give you more details on that in a later post.
Today's topic is about a fun little exercise that Jonathan and I seem to do all of the time: The epic event of venturing down memory lane to the music, both good and bad, of our life so far.
So, here I present to you a small representation the music of my life. It's going to be a gruesome journey, but insightful to say the least.
First song in my memory: Billy Ray Cyrus Achy Breaky Heart
At the age of three or four, this FANTASTIC train wreck of a song became a constant on the airwaves in Arkansas. Being young and impressionable, somehow I managed to find my four-year-old self singing this song (and dancing to it) one random Sunday after mass to my father. Yeah, Dad, don't break my heart...my achy breaky heart. Never again will I sing country music with such Arkansan pride.
Somewhere around the age of nine: Natalie Imbruglia Torn
I'm the youngest kid in my family. I have six older siblings, all of which were pretty much out of the house by the time I was seven years old. With that age gap, none of them were consistently in my life. So, when this song started playing during one of the rare occasions of alone time with my older brother Ben, it was kind of awkward. Maybe I didn't help by humming to it...maybe.
On the edge of my freshman year of high school: Dirty Vegas Days Go By
Pubescent Kateri was showing signs of growing into her skin. Yeah, I still love this song. I played it for hours in my fake Walkman CD player while on a family road trip, with the rolling scenery of the Southwest playing in front of my eyes from the backseat of a Jeep. Imagine the oranges, yellows, and blues running together while this song droned on with it's killer beat. Heavenly.
A year ago, just before my 3rd year in college: H.I.M. Venus Doom
Tired and usually annoyed, this song (and the album matching it's name) played in my car rides to and from working a full day at my university's academic advising center. Yes, I'd sing this song at the top of my lungs in the car after a day of being chewed out by misguided parents over the phone who just KNEW that I, being the office student secretary, somehow messed up their precious, and dependent college student's schedule. It seemed to ease some tension, I'd say.
Eh, that's just a taste of my musical timeline. Somewhere in the mix, you could throw in some Marcy Playground, Savage Garden, N*Sync *groan*, The Teenagers...but this is an overview. Billy Ray Cyrus is pretty rough, huh?
Until next time,
-Kateri Joe
Friday, August 21, 2009
What's under your skin?
Greetings ladies and gentelmen! Jonathan here.
Lordy, lordy! It's been a while since Kateri and I last posted something and there's a good reason I promise! You see we've been hard at work developing new items, new designs, and all that sweet jazzy stuff to bring you all... *drum roll*
Peculiar Curiosities 2.0!!
We're getting a systems upgrade which'll be fully powered by small children! Just imagine the productivity that'll come out with those little fingers working 'round the clock! Oh, I kid...but a boy can dream, right? It's been full steam ahead on our little purple locomotive toward the grand upgrade, running over all the cows standing on the tracks!
Now that we're done with the sampler of what's to come. Let's move on to the main course, what'd ya say? This post was inspired by a friend of ours, Fancy Lady. She had written a post where she talked what her heritage was and asked about everyone else's heritage. That immediately set off a nuclear light bulb in mah head as Kateri and I were looking for the right thing to make our blog a bit more personal. I thank you, your fanciship!
And as my brother once said to me, "Mi'jo, if you want to get your feet wet, you've got to jump in feet first." So here we go! Mi madre is a Mexican born in Austin, Texas and my father is a Hungarian born in Dublin, Texas.
The Hungarian Flag
The Mexican Flag
I was born in Bossier City, Louisiana and now live in Arkansas, not a place I'd prefer to live, but I guess it works for the time being. There was a single question that the Fancy Lady asked in her blog post that really struck a chord with me. It was, "Are you proud of your heritage?" As a Mexican-Hungarian, I can say I am only proud of the Hungarian side. I love my mother dearly, but I cannot stand that I'm Mexican. All throughout school I had teachers that would say, "Jonathan, you're Mexican, aren't you? Can you help so-and-so with what I'm saying?" and in response I'd say, "No, I can't speak Spanish..." I'd get a blank stare with, "...but, you are Mexican, right?"
My own mother can't even speak Spanish, haha. So what makes them think that I can? It was too funny to see my teachers react to my parents walking into the classroom at Parent-Teacher Conference. There's an average height WHITE, balding man with a short, (when I say short, I mean SHORT! My mom is only 4 foot 11 inches tall)Mexican woman. Haha, my parents would get very livid with my teachers when they'd say, "I just thought since Jonathan was Hispanic that he'd know Spanish, t-t-that's all..." Now a little 4 foot Mexican woman doesn't seem all that intimidating, but my mom always seemed to make ALL of my teachers stutter when she'd glare at them down her glasses and say, "I don't speak Spanish. Why would Jonathan?" My dad would follow up with, "We speak Hungarian at the house."
What my dad would say wasn't really a lie nor was it really the truth. We would speak Hungarian, but it was only the swear words that he happened to pick up from his father, haha. I usually speak pretty ill of any Mexicans, which I shouldn't because there are a few very hard working, good Mexican people who become US citizens like my Uncle Mike who loves being an American. It's just frustrating to say, "Yes, I'm Mexican." and get an, "Oh...well, umm...I like burritos and Corona!"
I love being Hungarian, because there is so much about my family that's interesting. Like my great grandmother was Hungarian royalty, before she rebelled and married my great grandfather, who was a high ranking officer in the Austria-Hungarian Calvary. Mixing royalty with "military trash" was a big no-no during that time.
Before this post gets any longer, I shall end it here with this summing up the love/hate relationship with my heritage.
Cool? Not so much.
Hells Yeah!
I leave you all with this - What is your heritage?
Until we meet again, my friends!
-Jonathan
PS - I'd like to thank Moondoggie for letting us know about the Etsy Success email that featured our forum post. That's pretty awesome, ya dig? And I'd like to welcome all the new followers with a Howdy howdy! You may now stare at me like some sort of crazy, stuttering cowboy!
Lordy, lordy! It's been a while since Kateri and I last posted something and there's a good reason I promise! You see we've been hard at work developing new items, new designs, and all that sweet jazzy stuff to bring you all... *drum roll*
Peculiar Curiosities 2.0!!
We're getting a systems upgrade which'll be fully powered by small children! Just imagine the productivity that'll come out with those little fingers working 'round the clock! Oh, I kid...but a boy can dream, right? It's been full steam ahead on our little purple locomotive toward the grand upgrade, running over all the cows standing on the tracks!
Now that we're done with the sampler of what's to come. Let's move on to the main course, what'd ya say? This post was inspired by a friend of ours, Fancy Lady. She had written a post where she talked what her heritage was and asked about everyone else's heritage. That immediately set off a nuclear light bulb in mah head as Kateri and I were looking for the right thing to make our blog a bit more personal. I thank you, your fanciship!
And as my brother once said to me, "Mi'jo, if you want to get your feet wet, you've got to jump in feet first." So here we go! Mi madre is a Mexican born in Austin, Texas and my father is a Hungarian born in Dublin, Texas.
The Hungarian Flag
The Mexican Flag
I was born in Bossier City, Louisiana and now live in Arkansas, not a place I'd prefer to live, but I guess it works for the time being. There was a single question that the Fancy Lady asked in her blog post that really struck a chord with me. It was, "Are you proud of your heritage?" As a Mexican-Hungarian, I can say I am only proud of the Hungarian side. I love my mother dearly, but I cannot stand that I'm Mexican. All throughout school I had teachers that would say, "Jonathan, you're Mexican, aren't you? Can you help so-and-so with what I'm saying?" and in response I'd say, "No, I can't speak Spanish..." I'd get a blank stare with, "...but, you are Mexican, right?"
My own mother can't even speak Spanish, haha. So what makes them think that I can? It was too funny to see my teachers react to my parents walking into the classroom at Parent-Teacher Conference. There's an average height WHITE, balding man with a short, (when I say short, I mean SHORT! My mom is only 4 foot 11 inches tall)Mexican woman. Haha, my parents would get very livid with my teachers when they'd say, "I just thought since Jonathan was Hispanic that he'd know Spanish, t-t-that's all..." Now a little 4 foot Mexican woman doesn't seem all that intimidating, but my mom always seemed to make ALL of my teachers stutter when she'd glare at them down her glasses and say, "I don't speak Spanish. Why would Jonathan?" My dad would follow up with, "We speak Hungarian at the house."
What my dad would say wasn't really a lie nor was it really the truth. We would speak Hungarian, but it was only the swear words that he happened to pick up from his father, haha. I usually speak pretty ill of any Mexicans, which I shouldn't because there are a few very hard working, good Mexican people who become US citizens like my Uncle Mike who loves being an American. It's just frustrating to say, "Yes, I'm Mexican." and get an, "Oh...well, umm...I like burritos and Corona!"
I love being Hungarian, because there is so much about my family that's interesting. Like my great grandmother was Hungarian royalty, before she rebelled and married my great grandfather, who was a high ranking officer in the Austria-Hungarian Calvary. Mixing royalty with "military trash" was a big no-no during that time.
Before this post gets any longer, I shall end it here with this summing up the love/hate relationship with my heritage.
Cool? Not so much.
Hells Yeah!
I leave you all with this - What is your heritage?
Until we meet again, my friends!
-Jonathan
PS - I'd like to thank Moondoggie for letting us know about the Etsy Success email that featured our forum post. That's pretty awesome, ya dig? And I'd like to welcome all the new followers with a Howdy howdy! You may now stare at me like some sort of crazy, stuttering cowboy!
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