Fun with Felt, Bad Manners: My Paperback Nights and Hardcover Days

I've been waiting to post until after I did something more productive than make a good dinner with a recipe I've tweaked. (Though I've done plenty of that, too.) I've got a lot of time on my hands these days: the deli where I was working laid me off after the holidays, because suddenly (shocker) they were a little less busy. The soufganiyot and chocolate gelt fulfilled their mid-winter purpose, and I guess I did, too. I now feel integrally a part of the whole economic crisis, even though I was just laid off from a lousy part-time job and not like, IBM or a mortgage company or something. K thinks that this was the deli's plan all along-- to hire me when they needed extra help and conveniently avoid mentioning that the help might be of the seasonal variety.

Which brings me to bad manners-- I know I take this shit too personally, but people are rude, man. If anyone wanted to hire me to be Manners Gestapo, I think I would be pretty excellent at it. First, there was the whole unceremoniously being fired from the deli over voice mail. It was a little like being dumped. First, my manager said he hadn't answered my call the night before because he'd been at Phantom of the Opera in San Francisco. Which was excellent, apparently. "The traveling company is as good as the one in New York, I really think so... We had such good seats. 'Music of the Night' was definitely my favorite number, even though I wasn't in love with the phantom. So, I don't think I'm going to be scheduling you for any upcoming shifts. We're actually like, not at all busy now. And you were the last person we hired. And you went home for Christmas, so. Have a great day, bye." I cannot express how much I am going to miss unlimited free pickles. Suffice to say, a whole bunch. Also, Gina Marie cream cheese! Alas.

But at least the flaky deli folk called me. (Well, they had to, or else I would've just shown up for work even though I'd been made redundant, like David Brent or the dude with the stapler in Office Space.) I've applied for several jobs, gone in for interviews that went well (maybe I'm deranged, but I don't think so) and then they say ("they"being the interviewer), "We'll let you know either way within the next couple days." Um, no. I wouldn't be as offended if they said "We'll be in touch if we want to hire you". I mean, obviously, if they don't call you they don't want to hire you, but then, don't say you'll call either way! Clarity, people, by default leads to conscientious behavior.

I have decided to reinvent myself as a latter day Emily Post. To begin, these are the ten golden rules that evidently are worth repeating, despite their seemingly obvious nature:

1. Do not go out of your way to be rude.
2. If you say you will call someone, call them.
3. Following that, don't say you'll do things you have no intention of doing.
4. ALWAYS say please and thank you.
5. Hold doors for others (male, female, young, old, etc.)
6. When you take up someone's time, acknowledge and thank them for it.
7. Be nice to service people and homeless people even if you don't give them a tip or your spare change.
8. Do not assume you are more important than everyone else.
9. Do not drive like an asshole..
10.You know what, just don't be an asshole in your general daily proceedings-- it's annoying, unattractive, bad karma, and I will get you.

This may seem basic or reductive, but I'm mostly serious. And if I'm entitled, or naive if I believe that people should not go around acting like Prince Harry dressed in a racist costume after a few single malts, well then, I'm naive and entitled. Of course I'm not perfect. I know I'm not always polite, even when I should be-- but I do know the difference between good and poor form.

Anyway, felt. I've been making things out of felt lately, partly inspired by this book, and partly because my mom gave me a whole bunch of her fancy felt a while back. The hair clips are super easy-- you cut two pieces of felt that will just barely encase the whole clip (regular metal clips you can buy in packs at the drug store) embroider the top piece (split stitches, satin stitches and French knots look swell), cut a slit in the bottom piece, and sew together using a straight stitch, a running stitch, whip stitch, or blanket stitch. Easy. I'm enjoying hand sewing things because it's less frantic than the sewing machine, but still equals pretty darn near instant gratification. The whale and the little cake are my own adaptations of patterns in the book, and gifts for friends' birthdays.