Podcasts and Bookshelves

Erm… There is a possibilty that right after I said “I’ll blog every week”, I went right ahead and missed a week. I am too lazy to check when my last post was, but it feels like a month ago. If I missed a week, sorry. If I did not (but I probably did), yay. Now that my obligatory “I’m sorry for being this way” introduction has been said, I have two stories to tell you.

Story One: So I Started a Podcast…

And although the quality leaves much to desire and I fully admit that I don’t know what I am doing, it felt good. It felt really good actually. It’s something I have always wanted to try out, because I suspected I would be good at it. I’m going to toot my own horn: as it turns out I am good at it. Sure, it was a first attempt and so far the only compliments I have received have been from 2 friends and the boyfriend, but I think (perhaps know) that this is a new medium that might lead to something. I promise I am not trying to sound arrogant, it’s just that the final product turned out much better than I anticipated, and when I listened back to it, for once I didn’t feel the need to apologize or criticize myself for the mistakes that had been made, or the sub-par quality of the audio. I enjoyed it, and I think others did will to. Because it’s good.

My Podcast is called Write Rant Rock. The first episode was about negative influences in art, and the one person I genuinely wish I could forget.

You can listen to it here:

https://rainbowskychild.podbean.com/e/when-muses-are-a-bad-thing-ep-1/

 Story Two: My One-of-a-Kind Bookshelf

The Cutie Pie suggested that for my birthday (which was at the end of February) he get me a desk and a bookshelf so that I could have my very own habitat (as he calls it) in his room.
So about a week ago we went bookshelf shopping, except for the fact that the store he had in mind was closed when we arrived there and so no bookshelf was actually purchased.

The next day, after once again missing the window of opportunity to go and buy a bookshelf at the aforementioned store, The Cutie Pie got the bright idea to make a bookshelf out of old pallets that were gathering dust in the shed. I am not being sarcastic when I say it was a bright idea. I was excited. DIY has always fascinated me, for one. This bookshelf would not cost any money, for another. It would be the only bookshelf of it’s kind, and most importantly, the sentiment behind it is presently unmatched.

Do you know what the doucheface before Cutie Pie did when I moved in with him and told him I needed a place for my books? He found a dirty, bent, steel shelf that was discarded on the property, bought it in, placed it against a wall, gave me a cloth to wipe it down with, said “There, bookshelf” and then gave himself a pat on the back for being such an innovative, resourceful and nice guy.

Nice, my ass.

Cutie Pie says he is the least sentimental guy I’ll ever meet, but what he doesn’t realize is that it’s hard to believe that when he built a bookshelf with his bare hands, specially for me- something no one else has ever thought to do.

Not sentimental, my ass.

The shelf itself is a bit flawed; we missed some spots while painting it. We forgot to add some beams as dividers that we thought would look nice and come in handy. The wood is chipped. It’s skew. And Cutie Pie had a funny dumbass moment which resulted in an extra plank that is not supposed to be there but is now nailed down. But I wouldn’t have it any other other way.

 

You can watch it being made here:

 

 

 

 

 

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