The New Meaning of Life

So. Now that the election has stopped gobbling up every of my available brain cells, I can return my attention to obsessive pursuits of yore: jewelry making, sewing, designing, ignoring housework, etc.

Whereas this time last week I was manically hitting "Command-R" (that's right, I'm keystrokin' it on a Mac, mmhmm) on every political blog known to humankind (which naturally excludes anything originating from Fox, NewsMax, Free Republic, etc.), I have found a new way to exercise my personality disorder: Etsy.

A couple of things:

First, let's talk about the name. I like it, it's cute and short. But, um, for lo these many years I have labored under the mistaken presumption that it's pronounces "eetsee." Nope. I have learned that the "Etsians" (yeah, I think that's a little weird) call it "ehtsee." I just can't get behind this. "Ehtsee" sounds like something my husband's grandmother would say crossly if you asked her how she was feeling. "Eetsee" sounds cute and tiny, like the name of a teacup poodle or something. So I'm gonna keep calling it "Eetsee."

Second, I wish that they didn't track your stats for you. Oh, don't get me wrong. I LOVE a statistic. I planned my wedding and the birth of my kid in a spreadsheet. But that's just it. I LOVE a statistic. So now I'm just hitting "Refresh" like it's my job. Not healthy.

Oh. So. Maybe you would check out my etsy store (pronounced however you like): cottageindustrialist.etsy.com? That would be swell. No pressure. I'm just feelin' a little ehtsee and I'm thinking that might help.