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Ultra-sparkly custom blended nail polish inspired by sci-fi faves and other geekery
Ultra-sparkly custom blended nail polish inspired by sci-fi faves and other geekery


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The Return of Nerdlacquer : This Time It's For Real

Hi, strangers. For anyone who's been wondering, no, I haven't been institutionalized. Yet. Though it might not be a bad idea. Anyway. I meant to give everyone a few days' notice that things are back and rolling and restocked (though a smaller-than-last-time restock), but when I updated the site via XLS file, it also updated  the inventories. Oops. So, um, there's stuff available now?

This is where I apologize for my absence. This will be the last time I have to do so, barring any debilitating accidents or maimings. No, I have not been well. I've been barely functional. I've been doing fuck-all and hiding from the pain and anxiety and fear that won't go away. I've been practicing Avoidance and Distraction. I thought I was okay after dad passed away and I got home and tried to Get! To! Work! Because that'll make it all better! It did not. I found the edge of the cliff. It's right there, a few miles behind and above me.

I bloody hate doing this. I hate doing things that necessitate apologies. I hate feeling weak. I hate not having my shit together, because I'm usually the one that has their shit together. I don't like feeling like I'm rationalizing. But also, since I am A Person and not a large faceless corporation, I am maybe obligated to put this stuff out there. And I think, hope, that maybe somebody who's going through the same stuff will find value in it.

So it's the holidays, and the first holidays with No Parents At All. (I just typed that and did not cry. You have no fucking idea how proud I am of this.) I made it through Thanksgiving (though with a bigass emotional freakout fueled by exhaustion and alcohol, but at least I didn't do it in front of people), made it through the first anniversary of my mother's death (still not crying yet), and am still making it through a lot of difficult nights. It's funny how you think you're fine, and then you turn the lights out and your head immediately goes to who and what you're missing, and that you'll be missing them forever, with no reprieve, and listening to your own heart beating in the quiet and what if it just stopped? And you know what that would be like because you've held the hands of the two people you're closest to when their own hearts stopped, and so much for the not crying.

But I've had a couple of days lately where I felt like something was off, or missing. And then I realized what I was missing was the ever-present Clenched Stomach of Fear And Pain. Like when you're about to break up with someone, or someone just broke up with you, or you had a fight, or you're worried about your job - that tightness that feels like you swallowed a large rock inside a small sponge, and also your heart is beating really a little bit faster than it ought to be. After a while, you get used to this feeling and you start to think it's normal to always feel like this, and you can fake being okay. But it's always there. 

Until it isn't. I think I might be leveling off. Still sad and angry. Very, very angry. But I feel more functional than I have in a really long time (like, four years). Christmas is going to be pretty rough (Not Fun: looking for something in a drawer of the secretary, finding the Christmas stockings, thinking about how mother would be wondering where in the WORLD we're going to hang them, as this house has no fireplace and thus no mantel, CUE BREAKDOWN). But anyway. Looks like shit is finally on the upswing.

And you know what that means. More nail polish, and three new colors. Since I love mythology and am still angry and sad and wanting to kill things, the new trio is in honor of the Eumenides - or The Furies, as they're more commonly known. Alecto (ah-LECK-toe), Megaera (muh-JEER-uh), and Tisiphone (tih-SIFF-uh-knee) bring their righteous rage, avenging fury, and wanton destruction to your nails. Tisiphone is my new favorite.

You guys know the drill. New stuff's up, email me if you're missing something, current crop is ready to ship, and I'll be back with more probably first week of January. 

And I thank you in advance for your patronage and your understanding. You'll also, I hope, understand if I am still not capable of engaging in conversations about this stuff - I'm not good with that at the best of times, and right now I'm barely emotionally capable of taking a damned shower. But so many of you who've been around for a while and have said such kind really have no idea how much I appreciate knowing you're out there, being awesome and saying such nice things to someone who usually feels like they don't deserve it.

But happy days are ... well, maybe not "here again," but they're at least imminent. So here's some swatches, and best wishes and fist bumps to you all.

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You guys are all just the best. Thank you so much for your kind thoughts and your understanding. Those of you who've suffered similar losses (or are anticipating them), consider yourselves hugged.

It's a weird, weird headspace to be in, during and after something like this. Kind of like part of your conscious, rational, reasonable mind has been parceled off and assigned guardianship of the rest of your brain -- it stands in the background watching and monitoring, and going "Nope, don't take the lid off yet. This needs to percolate undisturbed a while longer. Nope, don't talk about it. Don't think about it. Keep doing what you're doing, it's cool, it's cool. Just HANG ON."

And so you try to smile and be happy. Go out to lunch. Take up a new hobby (hello guns, I love you). Clean the house. Clean the house again (oh my god this house is SO CLEAN). But in the meantime, you can actually physically feel a big chunk of your mind trying really, really hard to just go absolutely batshit nuts. Then one day you feel like you can talk about it a little bit without freaking out or throwing up. 

This time was both harder and easier than with mom. The really awful scene was about a week after I got back from Ohio and my aunt and I went to visit my grandmother in the nursing home (she's not well, and has definitely begun the Final Steep Decline). The nurse said "Look, you have visitors! Do you know who this is?" "Well of course I do. That's Jeanne Maria." And I had to leave the room and go out into the hall and lose my shit, because /that's my mother's name./ So that was pretty horrible.

But. Talking about it was hard, albeit necessary. It did crank me up pretty hard, though, so I didn't sleep until dawn. Which means I shot mostly pretty crappy today, but a lot of that was probably just being jittery since this was my first time shooting by myself. (Sorry for all the cussing, dude who was in the next lane over.) If  you guys have never gone shooting before, give it a try sometime. It is wonderfully, wonderfully calming and focusing...probably because you HAVE to be calm and focused to do it well.

AAAAANYWAY, HERE WE GO. I'll be hitting the button to restock in about an hour. As before, posting inventory quantities of around half of what I actually have to pad against oversells. Got labels, got stamps, got a couple hundred shipping boxes already assembled, so tallyhooooooo. 
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Mysterious Disappearance, Vol. 2

So I guess everyone already knows my dad has been sick with liver cancer, and that I went to Ohio for a visit in March. That was a really, really difficult trip for a number of reasons -- primary reason, seeing my dad in a decreasingly vigorous state, and seeing that he had aged about ten years in the past two. 

So that was awful, and then I came home, and I thought I was pretty much fine. I was not fine, once I actually started processing what was going on. 

And then it was the day that would've been my parents' anniversary, had they not divorced a few years ago. That was also awful. Then dad went to New Orleans, and got really, really sick. That was extremely awful. I'd been planning to go to Ohio again for Memorial Day, and was told that I might want to move my travel date up. And so I did. And then it was Mother's Day, which also just happened to be my mother's birthday. That was so awful I can't even. And then I went to Ohio.

I've never seen anyone go from "kinda old-ish guy" to flat-out "elderly and decrepit" in the span of a year or two. I've seen people who aren't well, but I've never seen anyone I'd describe as "emaciated." As in, every single bone very clearly visible. 

Dying, as dad said many times during that trip, is not for sissies. Nor is watching it happen. For the second time in eight months.

I'm not very emotionally demonstrative a lot of the time. I'm definitely not very sentimental. I do not have a nurturing bone in my body. I'm vaguely uncomfortable with being a "caregiver" in any capacity, for anyone. Being the point person, to a degree, for two...let's call them "departures" because that freaks me out less, is something that just a couple of years ago I would've been absolutely certain I was not capable of handling. Not without a complete mental breakdown.

And yet, I'm still able to write my own name, tie my own shoes, feed myself, and type this overlong overwrought overshare rather than just say "my father died a couple of weeks ago."

In addition to being non-emotionally-demonstrative, I'm also kind of private about a lot of things. But, transparency! I feel like I should just put it all out there,  you know? I would've put it out there sooner, but if I'm perfectly honest with both you and myself, I haven't really been processing it. Like, I consciously have not allowed myself to even think about it at all, other than as simply a random fact, distant and impersonal and abstracted from my day-to-day. I'm working up to it. Right now, explaining what's going on, it's creeping up behind me a little bit. I can feel it looming, just out of view, this big nebulous horrible cloud of Both Your Parents Are Gone Forever, You Will Never See Them Again, Not Ever.

Not Ever.

Mostly, most of the time, I'm okay. I seem okay! I just suspect --  no, I know -- that I have a really really massive reservoir of debilitating sadness, and of fiery seething RAGING FUCKING ANGER about all of this. But, a little bit at a time, right? Right. A slow leak, rather than a dam breaking. Controlled descent, as it were.

So, yeah. Anyway. My father died. He was 68. We never got to go shooting together. He was six foot two, and I could pick him up off the sofa from a sitting position at the end. Other than making the incredibly bad decision to stop taking his pills - including the anti-nausea meds - a few days prior, he handled his own passing with admirable grace and aplomb. I'm very proud of him for that. 

- - - - - - - - 

And onward we go.

Now to business. Though I might've been suffering a mild psychotic break between trips to Ohio, I was not idle. There are 2,308 bottles of NerdLacquer, labeled and pre-bubble-wrapped, neatly arranged in brand-new shelf bins. I've swatched the new Wagner Opera trio and updated the website accordingly. Tomorrow, we begin anew. I'll fire up the shop - probably tomorrow evening, say 8ish or so? - and also get back to those of you to whom I owe a replacement for broken or faulty or missing bottles, and so forth. We're gonna step on the gas pretty hard right out of the gate, because right now I've either gotta HIT IT, or go crazy. I choose "hit it."

But tomorrow, before I do that, I'm going back to the gun range and run another box of ammo through my newly-inherited Kimber .45. It'll be my second time shooting. My instructor says I'm a natural. Daddy, you'd be proud.

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OH MY EFFING BLEEDING GLITTER-ENCRUSTED JESUS DAMN CHRIST, I am finally trying to make a Facebook account for NerdLacquer (by popular demand) and I HATE IT ALREADY.

Oh, your actual proper LLC-registered company name is "NerdLacquer"? Too bad, we don't care, our automated system considers that to be improper capitalization. (</irony>)

Also, "" is apparently an invalid email address. My inbox says otherwise, fools.

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BACK! Semi-grueling trip, ZERO wifi or cell signals, dad's well except that his dog died and his lovebird died, trouble on flight back (broken plane, replacement plane has 17 fewer seats, get bumped, and get home six hours later than planned), but we made it and then this afternoon I've been visiting my grandmother in the hospital and no I'm not even kidding. (But she's apparently okay.)

Aaaaanyway. I am off to answer your emails, so if you sent a query and haven't heard back, you're about to! 
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Oh, also? This is my friend Nate's sister's band, and they are super rad. Yeah, I'm totally shilling.
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Guhhhhhhh. Okay, almost everything has gone to the post office, except for about 25 orders (out of 349) that'll go out in the mail tomorrow. Holy bleeding cows. If we've talked and you're due any kind of refund etc, that'll get processed in the next couple days -- since I still have to clean the house, do laundry, and pack so I can blow out of here at 8 something tomorrow morning. If I survive that long.

WOO, orders! Nail mail! Hurrah!

BUT WHEN'S THE NEXT OPENING, OMG? I'll be gone for a week, then when I get back I'll probably spend a couple weeks mixing and bottling, so not until at least around April 15. Further updates as they develop! And yes, there will totally be new colors next time too. :D
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Okay, so you know I had about 940 bottles made up, but I only listed about half of them in inventory, so around 500. And we oversold by I think 645. So I'm only about 200 bottles shy, which I can do pretty fast! DAMN, Y'ALL. Thank you everyone for a great (while it lasted) sale! If you ordered during the accidental restock last night, I'll contact you in the next day or so to make sure the list you THINK you ordered is what's showing on my back end - I made a couple SKU changes and want to check that your orders are correct.

But right this second, I'm gonna go to the post office real quick. And TONIGHT, WE MIX. Also bottle and label. TOMORROW, WE PACK.
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Well THAT was fast.  Jeez, are you guys like biomechanically enhanced or something? 
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