homegrown insanity

random thoughts for the day

2012-01-26T21:54:00.000-07:00

1. i really want to take a hot shower but have already had three between 1 a.m. and now
2. i wish i looked good in dressy boots
3. i seem to not mind all colors of gummy worms now. but im feeling slightly nostalgic about when justin would pick out all the green & white (my favourite) worms for me.
4. i'm finally the age of bridget jones
5. when i sleep with crystals i dont move at all and it is very peaceful
6. i love taking naps on the sofa
7. i still mostly suck at scrabble
8. i would like to play cribbage soon
9. i should have checked the mail earlier as it has been about a week, but i didnt feel like walking those few extra yards
10. i have not been drinking enough water lately as it is making me feel nauseated; my body clearly prefers beer.
11. i hope it isn't wet on saturday - not that it would matter much
12. i feel that i am incredibly impatient, but i have been waiting (not necessarily serenely) for cerain things for years
13. it appears as though an answer that has always been no is now suddenly a yes, and i am slightly bemused but think it has always been an inevitable i just had to come to terms with who i am and what i want
14. i need to invest in more shoes
15 blogging from my phone is slightly frustrating
16 i really need a day to spend mostly nude in blankets on the couch
17 i should remember to water my plants
18 what should i do with all my vinyl? need to have it digitized
19 i am talking myself in circles and it isn't that complicated, so i need to just stop thinking and just do
20 i need to remember to pack other shoes for the weekend
21 going 6 weeks without a paycheck sucks
22 cant wait to get taxes-haven't done my own in about 7 years so that should be fun
23 i dont want to drive tomorrow night
24 i need to rejuvenate before saturday.
25 i love being an aquarius
26 why do i worry so much about whether people like me or not when i am so content in being myself? seems so contradictory .

My Type

2012-01-24T15:49:00.002-07:00

I am these two poured over ice and shaken, not stirred.

The Helper (the Two)

Helpers are warm, concerned, nurturing, and sensitive to other people's needs.

How to Get Along with Me

Tell me that you appreciate me. Be specific.
Share fun times with me.
Take an interest in my problems, though I will probably try to focus on yours.
Let me know that I am important and special to you.
Be gentle if you decide to criticize me.

Reassure me that I am intersting to you.
Reassure me often that you love me.
Tell me I'm attractive and that you're glad to be seen with me.

What I Like About Being a Two

being able to relate easily to people and to make friends
knowing what people need and being able to make their lives better
being generous, caring, and warm
being sensitive to and perceptive about others' feelings
being enthusiastic and fun-loving, and having a good sense of humor

What's Hard About Being a Two

not being able to say no
having low self-esteem
feeling drained from overdoing for others
not doing things I really like to do for myself for fear of being selfish
criticizing myself for not feeling as loving as I think I should
being upset that others don't tune in to me as much as I tume in to them
working so hard to be tactful and considerate that I suppress my real feelings

Twos as Children Often

are very sensitive to disapproval and criticism
try hard to please their parents by being helpful and understanding
are outwardly compliant
are popular or try to be popular with other children
act coy, precocious, or dramatic in order to get attention
are clowns and jokers (the more extroverted Twos), or quiet and shy (the more introverted Twos)

Twos as Parents

are good listeners, love their children unconditionally, and are warm and encouraging (or suffer guilt if they aren't)
are often playful with their children
wonder: "Am I doing it right?" "Am I giving enough?" "Have I caused irreparable damage?"
can become fiercely protective

The Adventurer (the Seven)

Adventurers are energetic, lively, and optimistic. They want to contribute to the world.

How to Get Along with Me

Give me companionship, affection, and freedom.
Engage with me in stimulating conversation and laughter.
Appreciate my grand visions and listen to my stories.
Don't try to change my style. Accept me the way I am.
Be responsible for youself. I dislike clingy or needy people.
Don't tell me what to do.

What I Like About Being a Seven

being optimistic and not letting life's troubles get me down
being spontaneous and free-spirited
being outspoken and outrageous. It's part of the fun.
being generous and trying to make the world a better place
having the guts to take risks and to try exciting adventures
having such varied interests and abilities

What's Hard About Being a Seven

not having enough time to do all the things I want
not completing things I start
not being able to profit from the benefits that come from specializing; not making a commitment to a career
having a tendency to be ungrounded; getting lost in plans or fantasies
feeling confined when I'm in a one-to-one relationship

Sevens as Children Often

are action oriented and adventuresome
drum up excitement
prefer being with other children to being alone
finesse their way around adults
dream of the freedom they'll have when they grow up

Sevens as Parents

are often enthusiastic and generous
want their children to be exposed to many adventures in life
may be too busy with their own activities to be attentive

Renee Baron & Elizabeth Wagele

Find out your type here.

What's Hot

2012-01-20T14:50:00.001-07:00

Let's just get this out of the way. There is only one (and no matter your feelings, you'll have to agree).

What's NOT: Snow.

'nuff said. Moving on.

What's HOT

Live Music: Music, in general, of course. But Live is a must. The universe has been exceptionally kind to me this month. I spent lots of money going to TOOL (Each cent worth it), and found out last week Snow Patrol would be hitting a nice tiny venue not too many hours from me in April. But I was out of funds and tickets went on sale whilst I was flying to Reno, anyway. And THEN.. last night I received two refund checks unexpectedly. AND tickets to SP are NOT sold out. Two of them will be awaiting me at will call.

and EXTRA HOT? One of my lovely spiritual guides, Becky, will be in attendance so we'll get to spend time swooning together.. OH and my best friend is going with me AND we have a friend we grew up with there who (thanks to the miracle of FB) has invited us to stay with her!

Getting along with Aurora: We have had an exceptional week. And although she crawled into bed at 1:30 this morning (only a half hour after I had finally gone to bed) and kept me awake a lot, we have had a blast. We've written, and read, and had social hours, and flirted with cute boys, and had dinners. What more could a mother ask for?

Well, nothing, really, but as a bonus she told me when she had a little girl she was going to name her Tracylea so she could always always be reminded of me. And I enjoyed an evil chuckle at the thought of tormenting yet ANOTHER generation of boys.

Using Your Words: during a discussion with Franny the other day I was talking about how silly it is for me to fear words, which are my favourite things ever, and I am so often verbose, that it seemed ridiculous for me to be nervous to get up and speak at church, or in other areas of my life. She pointed out (because she is a very smart woman who knows me far too well) that sometimes situations call for words to contain emotion and I am much better at deflecting my insecure moments with wit and sarcasm. So I am practicing using my words. It is very stressful, but very rewarding.

Dates: Of all kinds! Play dates, lunch dates, girl dates, venting dates, boy dates. They're fun.

and hitting 700 posts! wow!

T00L: the legend

2012-01-19T13:35:00.000-07:00

After being introduced to TOOL in 2001 with the release of "Lateralus" I began the adventures of attempting (sometimes successfully) to see them live.

Attempt 1:

Summer of 2001 I flew to Seattle to visit "the boy" (AKA one of my best friends, NOT boyfriend in spite of my best efforts), under the pretense that he was buying tickets to the concert. Landed at the airport and, fortunately, for his health, I was very much enamoured of him because he had NOT gotten us tickets.

Outcome: Failure in that winning way.

Attempt 2:

Spring of 2002, tickets to the Salt Lake City concert went on sale the day I graduated from college. I graduated, finished packing up "the boy" (AKA FINALLY my boyfriend, for about one whole month), sent him off through my tears, and bought us TOOL tickets. Within another month I moved on, breaking us both a little (I think), because the drama was more sustaining for me. And "Schism" was our story as we road tripped to the concert.

But I rocked my red corset and anime hair and cried when they sang "Jimmy"

Outcome: Winning in that failing kind of way.

Attempt 3:

FINALLY, TOOL came back to Boise in 2003. I bought tickets. They were only $35.00, so I bought three and took a close friend and a hot boy I was trying to impress. Concert was unbelievable. Boy turned out to be a douche. Friend and I haven't spoken in years.

I rocked my red corset again, this time with shorter hair, and don't remember if I cried.

Outcome: Win

Attempt 4:

10,000 Days released. Came to Boise in December of 2007. He who shall not be named was supposed to get us tickets. One of the few tangible gifts I ever asked of him. Suffice to say he couldn't be bothered with sacrificing some of his $400.00 a month food bill (Side note, fat men should NOT work in grocery stores AND eat out 7 times a day) to afford the tickets.

Outcome: FAIL FAIL FAIL FAIL FAIL FAIL FAIL

Attempt 5:

RENO! 2012! Wonderful long-time friend, and sorority sister, Christine, informs me TOOL is touring and coming to her town. I buy plane tickets. A quick over night stay. Red Corset was lost along with my 50 lbs the year previous. Quick FB shout out gets me lots of new clothes and offers of delicious satin and pleather. So outfit is acquired within a week.

Hit Reno, and my favourite coffee shop (the only one within hours).

And visit Lake Tahoe

And get my modeling in a graveyard of sorts...

And the line into TOOL is the longest I've ever seen! It wraps around city blocks. And we end up behind a group of friendly TOOL fans, and we're friendly, too, so it works out well. The only problem with these two groups, is they each contain one very lascivious, flirtatious, and outgoing person. I, of course, happen to be ours. And then "Steve" (oh okay, his name was REALLY Gary) was the other.

As a note of warning to anyone shooting for absolutely ridiculous and awkward (as I so often am), sometimes when someone asks you an absolutely ridiculous question, they don't expect you to say yes. And sometimes when someone answers yes to an absolutely ridiculous question they don't expect you to follow through. When the two collide something like the following ensues: (please consider this a disclaimer that this is entirely inappropriate, and might embarrass you, but hilarious)

G: "Can I bite you?"

T: LAUGHING, "Sure."

G: swoops, pulling corset down, scooping unsuspecting me off the ground while latching his mouth onto exposed flesh.

T: Spinning above the ground, laughing and squealing in hysterics.

G: Eventually unlatches and sets me down, "Thanks!"
T: Laughing, too shocked to even manage a blush, "You're Welcome."

As the security guards split us off into gender specific groups for searches Gary ends up behind me for the first time.

G: "oh my god, your ass is fabulous, too! Can I bite it?"
T: I may not be very bright, but I'm not ALWAYS an idiot, "Gary, you're all out of time! It's my turn and Maynard is waiting!"

Thus saving the crowd and my dear friend any more instances of public nudity and lewd acts.

And I cried when "Stinkfist" played and again at "Schism" and I tried not to worry too much that it might be the last time I heard TOOL live. It was amazing.

Outcome: Win; with a side of embarrassing awkwardness.

Pretty Plumage II

2012-01-18T16:28:00.000-07:00

Halfway through. First half is here.

Am I allowed to admit this is becoming trying?

Not that it isn't forcing me to break out of my shell (yep, I'm snickering, too, it's okay), which is fun at moments. But, honestly, I'm going to have to switch to searching for interesting makeup ideas, because I'm bored with just changing colors (and some of the colors just aren't that great on me). And if I search for creative makeup ideas it's probably going to get REALLY Crazy, which takes time. Time and checking my meetings schedule.

Also, my face is starting to wish it could just be nude. Nudity is so freeing! But.. I've started this, and, well, I'd hate to disappoint myself.

So here are some more days...

Day 6: Lizzy Bennett

Day 7: C of I, Purple and Gold

Day 8: Hard Candy

Day 9: Foxy

Day 10: Orange Crush

Day 11: I hate this one

10 more days...

Minor Miracle

2012-01-17T08:41:00.000-07:00

This morning, after hitting Dutch Bros. Coffee for our regular (medium black and a not-so-hot chocolate with whipped cream), Aurora and I were at a stop light when she asked, "Mom, what's that one place that starts with an M?"

I heave a little sigh, because we've played this game before, and if I don't get it right immediately we can quickly degenerate into frustration (mine at her less than helpful clues and hers at my idiocy).

"The place with the M...." My mind tries filing quickly through every place I've taken her. No, not a Chinese restaurant, maybe a town, some place in Boise, or nearby?

"Flying M? Messenger?"

Her eye roll is obligatory with the exasperation in her tone, "No, Mom. THAT Place, right THERE!"

She is pointing across the street to glowing golden arches.

I stutter, "Th-that Place?! You're sure? McDonald's?"

"Yeah! McDonald's!"

And my inner self does a triumphant yawlp that MY daughter does not know That name, but I don't release it because I'm terrified she'll follow with the dread question: can we go there?

Instead, she says softly, "Their food is gross."

WINNING!

T00L: the intro

2012-01-16T13:26:00.003-07:00

I refused to listen to TOOL prior to 2001. I only ever saw giant trucks with misogynistic, homophobic assholes driving around with their TOOL stickers stuck proudly on their windows, right next to Korn (who I didn't like) and knew it wasn't for me.
But there was this boy...

A boy who was shy and nervous and two years behind me in college; he spent all of his free time playing Counter Strike and Diablo II and, eventually, with me. And in the spring of 2001, when we should have been working, but the day was slow, he sat me down and said, "You will love TOOL. I know you."

I am always intrigued by people who think they know me, because even if I sit and scream about myself at you all the time, which I do, I mostly skip over all the important pieces so that when rejected, it is only those things placed around me as a distraction and not anything too real.

And this shy boy, who made all the effort in the world to love me as best he could, even though it was never enough to satiate me, sat down and gave me my favourite thing, words:

"What was it like to see,
The face of your own stability,
Suddenly look away,
Leaving you with the dead and hopeless?
Eleven and she was gone.
Eleven is when we waved good-bye.
Eleven is standing still,
Waiting for me to free him,
By coming home.
Moving me with a sound.
Opening me within a gesture.
Drawing me down and in,
Showing me where it all began,
Eleven.

You're too scar'd to realize this,
You are the voice that's been calling me back home.
Under a dead Ohio sky,
Eleven has been and will be waiting,
Defending his light and wondering,
Where the hell have I been?
Sleeping lost and numb I.
So glad that I have found you.
I am but wide awake and heading,
Home.
I wish that I could see you,
Turn and run to play.
Dreams are fading,
Carry my ancient soul.
Carry me into the light.
Aim your body heavenly,
Enduring a memory.
I’ll come to your light,
Hold your light.
Hold your light where I can see it,

Hold it,
High.
Hold your light,
Eleven, Lead me through each gentle step,
By step,
By inch by loaded memory,
I'll move,
To heal,
As soon as pain allows so we can,
Reunite,
And both move on together.
Hold,
Your light,
Eleven lead me through each gentle step,
By step,
By inch by loaded memory 'till,
One,
And one are one,
Eleven.
So glow,
Child,
Glow.
I'm heading back home..." - Jimmy, TOOL

And I fell in love with the true emotion those words seared into me.

There is a reason Lateralus looks this way...

... becauseTOOL's music sounds exactly like the beating of my heart, the opening of my valves, the electricity flowing between my chakras, and the life and death of my cells.

Which is why I flew to Reno this weekend, to let TOOL remind me that I have always been what I have been, even if I am scared to death of some of those things. I'm going to continue this process of removing my skin and playing with the strings of my heart and the fire in my soul. I'm starting to fall in love with myself and the courtship is beguiling.

WTF

2012-01-13T13:55:00.000-07:00

Because acknowledging emotions is important to fully grasp the experience, I am going to take a moment to do so:

Dear Vaguely Familiar Emotion,
I think we have met before, but it's been a long time, and we've both changed. I'm not sure what to say, except,

FUCK!

I am fluctuating between speeding heart, crying, smirking, saying "I told you so", and laughing.

I want to sit on the couch with you, vaguely familiar but changed emotion. I want to be nude, wrapped in layers of fluffy blankets, legs and fingers entangled with yours, until I get to know your name again and your scent is on my skin. Long enough so that when you are gone I'm relieved. Just until I recognize you and love you for what you are, and the brief moment I have you, and don't need you back for a very long time.

Sincerest Regards

Action Potential

2012-01-12T13:19:00.001-07:00

Did you know the electrical signal in the heart is called an "action potential"?

My heart seems to be the only place strong enough for all my experience. To walk, and sometimes run or dance, through doubts and mortifications and passion and peace, is not something for the weak. But still scary to those of us who are not blindly stumbling about our existence, but carefully choosing to take the next move of foot, hand, mouth and carve out this path.

I want to weep for all things. Joy and pain; to be consumed with passion for life and this experience. Even THIS experience. This flow of words, the clickity-clack of the keyboard under my nimble fingers, which, although it takes only a moment, can take forever. Years of thought, sometimes, built up behind the motion, only suddenly to be released, for better or worse, sometimes not at all as poetic as my heart wishes it could be in shades of ash and pink.

My heart and tears are searching for a freedom; a release in laughter is found a lot by my heart these days, but sometimes I yearn to weep in sadness; both healing and uplifting. I think they will find freedom in deliberation.

To choose to say, "yes", (which has been so hard for so many years) and in finding freedom in the affirmative I am also choosing freedom in the negative. I will deliberately not be forced into situations that no longer serve my experience. So freedom is also found in no. Like ying yang and crying laughter.

And each decision of movement, each step taken with yes, means ANOTHER step will be taken with no. Planting a foot firmly in the path for an instant longer, deliberately finding a foothold, planting a stake with a flag waving proudly, "I consciously make this declaration for myself." That leads to a thousand potential yes spots along the path.

There is nothing to be lost in deliberation. Only a chance to gain All Things. Lessons will be learned; there should be no fear in missing. Take the time to learn THIS lesson. THAT lesson will come later, at the moment you are best able to accept and incorporate the knowledge into your heart and the next yes. And if you move in haste? If the lesson is not learned, it will be retaught. Sometimes it takes years, getting stuck on a lesson. But with focus one can begin to discern which yes and no to take. Simply spend a moment listening to the strongest of your muscles. The muscle which sustains you. Your Heart.

And with each lesson learned a chapter is added to your life. The story becomes clearer and bigger and more satisfying. Each new moment is enriched with the emotion felt. Embrace it. All of it. Make love to it. Be thankful for it, even if the tension is crawling up your spine and settling into your shoulders. Shake It Off. Breathe, move slowly if you need, but choose to say yes or no to the moment.

And the more deliberately I'm making MY decisions, the more I want not to hide. I want to throw back curtains and greet each sunlit morning and star filled night with a knowing smile, to remember my power (and yours) given through each memory of experience and expectations of new moments.

I feel as if I am reading my favourite book, where I am so familiar with the characters and lines, but they still bring a smile to my face or a tender tear to my eye no matter how many times I've read them, and with each reading a different nuance is caught, because each remembered experience changes perspective with each new experience. This Novel. My novel. My Life. I am writing it. DELIBERATELY (I will hound this forever, this resolution of mine) with yes and nos sprinkled liberally throughout!

What's Hot

2012-01-11T12:41:00.000-07:00

We have entered the second week of 2012. When someone asked me, on Sunday, how my first week of the year had gone, I stood wide-eyed. A week? So many things had happened, how could it have been only seven days? And what would transpire during the remaining 359 days?

TWG: TWiG, Time With God. An amazing time every other Tuesday at my church, visio dei. Ardent plays worship music (to which I am starting to learn the words, which makes a bit of a difference); the bar is stocked with coffee, tea, sodas, and cute bartenders; journals are set out (although I bring my own, sometimes I also want to share words with those who might need the comfort of someone else's emotions as they have done for me); friends; peace; and words.

TWG allows me to sink into the comfort of focus and whatever that might be (singing, or relaxing on the couch, or dancing, or bleeding my heart through ink), instead of Rushing from one thought to the next, one emotion to the next, which usually reflects worry and not contemplation.

MOVEMENT: Motion is motivating. This is an important fact, which is all too often forgotten. Want to wake up? Move. Simple. Begin slowly if you must (or sometimes because it is just enjoyable).

Start with the flutter of eyelashes; remember your muscles with a simple stretch of a leg through the sheets and lengthen your torso by pushing your arms under a pillow above your head. The languid stimulation will so delight your nerves and neurons a fervor might begin in your blood. Don't stifle it, or ignore it, breathe into it and Move.

FRIENDS: A permanent fixture on the list. At the snap of a finger, a push of the send button, a drop of a tear, an uncomfortable shrug of the shoulder, a high-five with unintelligable squealing words, I am afforded love, laughter, coaching, head slaps, rejoicing, smiles, compliments, advice, truth, and time. Thank you!

And the words are all escaping me...

2012-01-10T16:34:00.001-07:00

And the heart is hard to translate,
It has a language of it's own,
It talks in tongues and quiet sighs and prayers and proclamations,
In the grand days of great men and the smallest of gestures,
In short shallow gasps.

But with all my education,
I can't seem to commend it,
And the words are all escaping me,
And coming back all damaged,
And I would put them back in poetry,
If I only knew how,
I can't seem to understand it,

And I would give all this and heaven too,
I would give it all if only for a moment,
That I could just understand the meaning of the word you see,
'Cause I've been scrawling it forever,
But it never makes sense to me at all.

And it talks to me in tiptoes,
And sings to me inside,
It cries out in the darkest night,
And breaks in morning light....

No, words are a language,
It doesn't deserve such treatment,
And all my stumbling phrases,
Never amounted to anything worth this feeling,
All this heaven,
Never could describe such a feeling as I'm having,
Words were never so useful,
So I was screaming out a language that I never knew existed before.

- Florence + the Machine

Pretty Plumage

2012-01-09T08:58:00.000-07:00

Because I love things costumey, and I adore Makeup, AND I like taking pictures of myself (it's a disease) I have started a 21 Days of Makeup Challenge.

This is inspired by the lovely Meg (my magical hair stylist) who handed me the latest ELLE last week whilst my hair cooked.
Note: if you click on one it will pull them into a larger screen and you can click through them.

Day 1: Blue and Pink

Day 2: Purple (GO YOTES!) and Coral

Day 3: 80s! (PS I love my hair this way IN PERSON; it doesn't translate well in photos, unfortunately)

Day 4: Classic

Day 5: Elizabeth Taylor Meets James Dean

What's Hot

2012-01-05T12:28:00.000-07:00

I'm bringing it back. The Lovely Loobylu used to do a "What's Hot, What's Not" Wednesday. It was fun. Sometimes even the nots are fun (and we might throw a few in on occasion because snark is too good to resist), but we'll prefer to stick mostly to the hots.

So to begin our 2012 What's Hot, we are going to also include a short time travel to 2011.

Counseling: I was stuck. Badly. So badly it was hurting. And, with some prompting by old friends and new spiritual guides, I took the plunge. I decided to throw all my crazy at a stranger (and not just any stranger, like here, but one trained and qualified to tell me I was crazy). You know the amazing thing? He told me I wasn't crazy. And I was kind of offended. But he did open some old hurts, showed me healthy and unhealthy patterns/boundaries, and how to teach myself the difference between the person I think society says I should be, the person I told myself I should be, and the person I WANT to be.

Vacation: I had not taken a two week vacation since college. Well, unless you count that one time I quit my job and didn't look for another until the migraines subsided two weeks later, or my three week maternity leave; I do not.

And it was wonderful. No travel, no pressure, just lots of family time, some friend time, lots of crafting, X-Files, and ruminating. I have never been so okay with being fairly unproductive. I did not feel the need to visit work, or check email, or do the dishes if the mood did not strike. Peace and calm and allowing my mind and emotions to re-align to new boundaries.

Work: It was nice get back to work. My unharried and unharrassed time off reminded me how much I love my job. I enjoy most every aspect. I get to see people I love on a daily basis, I get to organize and schedule and plot and map, I get to be involved with things near and dear to my heart, and all the while be myself (loud, flirtatious, funny, quiet, rock star hair, tattoos, and everything else).

You: You are hot. And you should tell me more about yourself. I would like that very much.

Of All Things

2012-01-02T12:59:00.002-07:00

The New Year has hit. The Big Year. So big, some say, it is the end of All Things. The end of life as we know it. And, I must say, I quite agree.

I successfully (although sometimes quite painfully) navigated 2011 and accomplished all of my high and mighty goals. I wrote those lofty goals with absolutely no idea how to realize them.

I did not imagine my fears were so hidden and deep rooted that it would take the worst night of my life smashing me in the face, until I, literally, locked myself in a friend's bathroom paralyzed with panic.

Nor that I could learn to actually love myself. I didn't know that if I stared long enough at all the things of which I am ashamed (physically, spiritually, and mentally) that I could begin to understand how very scared and battered those bits were and they just need attention; and will continue to need attention, but they are me. And I am beauty incarnate. Just like you.

So this year, I want to enjoy the end and beginning of All Things with deliberation. I am going to live resolutely in my deliberateness.

I will write, exercise, meditate, better myself as a parent, and love with the deliberate thoughtfulness I deserve. That, in actuality, each of those moments deserves. Haste will not be rewarded. I will purposefully seek exquisite emotionality of experience.

Beautiful Dawn

2011-12-20T12:46:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time...
A young girl fell in love with a light in the darkness. It was the merest pinprick of illumination, only seen in the periphery. She was unsure of its meaning, but would try to study it in sideways glances.

As the young girl grew she began to understand the tiniest spot of radiant light meant somewhere beyond the confusing darkness was warmth and joy. She began to seek it.

What the woman could not comprehend was the light was not to be found around her, although she sought it at a tiring and obsessive pace. The light, like the darkness, was within her. And one day, after years of hiding, the light decided to show herself.

The light was fiery and demanding, and made the woman squint into the terrifying new glare. Having thought only to seek the light, the woman had not thought much of what to do with it if found. And the woman was selfish, timid, and unsure, and for a time she tried to hide from the dark corners the light insisted upon searching most thoroughly.

The light demands honesty, freedom, laughter, and tears. The light says, in no uncertain terms, "I made all the color in the world for you, before you were even born." And the woman is surprised when her heart acknowledges the truth of it.

My dearest Aurora,

Although we have traveled lightyears together, and even though you are carved from my flesh, I am surprised to find you six and me your mother.

Your indomitable goddess spirit insisted against us all six years ago that despite our best efforts you would come in Your own time; two weeks late and 36 hours of labour after that, I was beginning to understand what wasn't going to kill me made me stronger and you were absolutely insisting upon me being as strong as you.

You have impressed on so many that you are no mere six-year-old. You are a force. You are a force of love, independence, creativity, drama, passion, and truth. You are a force which left me in no doubt I had to better myself, fix my broken parts, and live life because you deserve it.

I am entirely certain you will always out shine, out think, out wit, dance longer, rock harder, and laugh louder (and more maniacally) than I.

But I hope you will be able to say that I was always trying my damnedest to keep up with you.

My goddess, my beautiful dawn, happy sixth birthday.
Forever Yours, Mom

Just Like a Novel

2011-12-15T12:03:00.004-07:00

When I was younger, and much more delusional than I am now, I vividly remember telling my mother during an argument, "I want to be happy and have fun. If my life isn't those things, what's the point?"

And I had fun. I had a life filled with those exceptional moments that caused those around me to get wide-eyed and laugh loudly. Jokingly, we liked to say it was adventurous this life of mine, worth watching because it was so awkwardly exciting, like a soap opera.

And then I set myself down and decided to be a grown up and try things for which I wasn't really made (like sharing a living space with someone, playing mommy to a grown man, cooking, and working really hard at getting nowhere). And my life stopped being filled with exceptional moments (except when it came to my daughter, of course).

Instead it was filled with dishes, frustrations at feeling hemmed in by another's things (sometimes literally and sometimes figuratively), and labeling things I once considered important (fun, happiness, exceptional moments of awkwardness, freedom, and creativity) as something that should be left to a novel and out of a grown up life.

This got me... well, it got me what I have called my "basement self". There was lots of fried foods from fast food restaurants, lots of TV, lots of not touching, not loving, and trying to remember to breathe.

And then I remembered, I wasn't that girl, and I certainly didn't want to be that woman. I don't want my daughter to think it is okay to wallow in self-pitying cowardice and not live her life.

So I climbed out of the basement and many of you have, over the past couple of years, watched this exploration of all the boundaries, fears, paths, loves, and freedoms within myself.

I have sought numerous friends to help me along. You are so very wonderful. You put up with my blathering, my blogging, my rants, my tears, my laughter, my testing, my mistakes, my dreams, and my delusions. And I have also sought professional help (because that, too, was a fear). And it did help.

My doctor said lots of pertinent things, such as "People are NOT Projects!" which turned my stomach, made me light headed, and so ashen I had people asking me for the next few hours if I had seen a ghost. Truths sometimes hurt.

He also told me, "Life is not a soap opera." This made me raise an eyebrow. But I'm beginning to get it. Life should not be a soap opera. I do not want to be that doomed character repeating the same cycles with the same horrible plot lines for the next 75 years.

But I will no longer condemn my lovely books for giving me false hopes and brain washing me into thinking life is more dramatic, passionate, awkwardly delightful, poignant, startling, and worthwhile than it is. Because I am exceptional enough (as are you) that my life and most of the moments in it are worthy of novel. Worthy enough to inspire others to try their best, accept joy where we find it, or better yet, to look for joy. Beauty, joy, passion, hopes, love, and trust are all there for the taking, but too many people are ignoring it.

Yes, things are going to hurt. Yes, there will be setbacks. That is how we know we are actually living. The not knowing what you're going to get, but having the deterimination to give it your damnedest, presents the most amazing situations.

So, for all of you walking around with the motto "Life is not a soap opera" would you care to try on my new motto "This is the Novel of my life"?

The Harsh Beauty Found in Truth

2011-12-13T12:47:00.004-07:00

I recently read a post from The K Is No Longer Silent. If you have not read, please go do so now, or this might not make any sense. Don’t you worry, I’ll just settle comfortably on my sofa with a cuppa and my current book until you return.

That woman’s honesty ruffled my feathers. I scoffed with indignation and anger that she should feel she has to go to such lengths to be acceptable. Pin her ears back? Please tell me this is a joke. How can society be so cruel?

But I was reading this over my lunch hour at work and was shifting uncomfortably in my chair because I was wearing leggings. I don’t normally. I don’t even particularly care for pants.

The leggings cut into my stomach which creates that unsightly extra roll of flesh. So if I feel like wearing them I also wear spanks over them to help smooth it out. I mean, I wear them sometimes for the warmth, but the comfort of warmth is traded in for the organ compressing spanks.

And there I was, shaking my fist at society for the injustices placed upon men and women (but mostly women) and making such a thoughtful and interesting person feel insecure. And I started shaking my fist at it for me, too.

I get, with some frequency, wonderfully sweet compliments about how inspiring I am because I have never been afraid to be myself. I suppose this has something to do with my verbosity, occasional loudness, and my not entirely mainstream sense of fashion. The compliments always come as a shock.

I have not frequently seen myself in this manner (but I'm trying to live up to it).

Who I am is the girl who is squeezing her organs together because that extra bump from my leggings REALLY bothers me. I have enough bumps to be getting on with. The good news is, I mostly like all the other bumps. But there are other things. Are you ready? Cuz I’m going to take a deep breath and just delve into some of the nitty gritty ways I let society tell me how I should look so that I can feel good about myself.

I have been plucking my eye brows since I was… 12? I think around 12.

I had orthodontia to eliminate my Madonna gap between my two front teeth when I was in high school. And two caps put onto my natural vampire teeth ( I still regret this).

I wax my upper lip.

And then there are the things that I have somewhat done for my health, but was still weighted (hehe) heavily upon what society would think of me if I didn’t/don’t.

I had an oral surgeon shove a long metal spike in my skull so I could have an implant on a very visible tooth.

I had a breast reduction my senior year in college. This is listed among one of the best things I could ever do for my health and self-esteem (and I would do it again without a second thought), but it was mostly prompted, at the time, by unrequited love.

I have lost 50 lbs. This is also for the very simple reason that I was miserable feeling. Not only was I unhappy with myself, but I hurt. Getting active (and sticking to it, for the first time in my life) was the most important thing I could do. It motivated me to get everything in my life moving.

I know I will never be a sinewy marathon runner, but I am still learning to come to grips with shape. Or let’s be honest. My shape is fine, it’s the fat that bothers me.

I am on a mission to lose more weight. And I know many of your bristles might be up, like I was over Kass’s post. But what I am trying to determine, is when is my happiness dictated by how society views me and when is it dictated by how I see myself.

I am trying to NOT connect how I see myself with a number in my jeans or a letter on my shirt, because they aren’t standard sizes. Woman don’t get to pick a 34 waist and 32 inseam like men. We get to find out that dependent upon the store and the designer we can find a size 12 that falls off without a belt, but then try on a 16 and barley be able to button.

So instead of connecting with a number I have to be focused on how any certain weight, shape, fit makes me feel. And how do I want to feel? Well, oddly enough I want to feel “Fat”, or at least SOME of the definitions of fat:

1. Having too much flabby tissue; corpulent; obese
2. Wealthy; prosperous; rich
3. Plentiful; abundant
4. Dull; stupid
5. Fertile, as land
6. Animal tissue containing much of this substance; loose flesh; flabbiness
7. The richest or best part of anything
8. An overabundance or excess; superfluity
9. Action or lines in a dramatic part that permit an actor to display abilities
`dictionary.com

So I’ll continue to get up at ridiculous hours to jog, but won’t be shoving my finger down my throat to look like Kate Moss.

And the other things? Well, I certainly don’t need to wax my lip to make people like me. In fact, I don’t even know if anyone notices when I don’t. But I do it because it makes ME more comfortable .

Should Kass pin her ears? I don’t think so, but then I had my breasts surgically removed so I could get a boy to date me.

My, oh my, I’ve come a long way, but still have a way to go.

That Sometimes Awkward FB Misunderstanding

2011-12-09T12:34:00.000-07:00

Pre-New Year's Resolve

2011-12-07T13:17:00.000-07:00

This effort seems to be going well. I am, of course, excercising daily and eating better. Which, in turn, makes me feel better, albeit more sore than usual. I took Saturday off from grueling food and exercise schedule, for a few reasons.

One, I had refrained from any sort of overindulgence at our College holiday party. I would like to point out I picked the most scrumptious menu in the world, including empanadas (of which I did not partake), and an open bar. OPEN. I cried a little inside.

Two, Saturday morning was also a time to get ready for my favourite holiday bazaar of the year; a cozy little home affair with very fun and crafty women. So I thought I might be a bit more pleasant if I slept in until 7 am instead of getting up at 5:30 to go jogging. I think it worked.

Three, there were gingerbread men at the holiday bazaar. Homemade gingerbread men. Did I mention ginger is my favourite spice? And that they were smiling at me with that comehither look I find so irresistible?

Yep, I ate four of them, okay, maybe five, I forget. Limbs first, because I like it better if I can pretend they are screaming.

Four, Saturday was Zack's birthday and a round of a very intense Zack-made board game ("Ultimate") which DOES include overindulgence.

However, as much as I overindulged (and, boy oh boy, did I), I still set my alarm for 7:30 am so I could get home and get ready for my first real yoga instruction. I'm still sore. But the next date is set and pieces are being included in the morning routine.

No, I have not looked at a scale, but I'm starting to feel more like this:

Henri Pierre's "Venus"

Instead of this:

DOMO!

xo!

A Heart Case

2011-12-02T21:25:00.002-07:00

My heart stutters. More than it used to. A few years ago I became worried when I discovered a bird in my chest. Its wings fluttered under my ribs, pressing against my throat so that for a brief moment the surprise of finding such a beast in my skin made it difficult to breathe.

It only happened every few days. Usually when I would sit still. Acting as if taking a moment of rest was terrifying & too much to handle.

The doctor looked at me with disdain, "29? You are Too young to have anything wrong with your heart."

"Thank you, yes. I just want to check, you know I have a young daughter. I want to make sure I won't die tomorrow," is my response with a self-depreciating sort of laugh and downcast eyes.

"It is not worth the time to run tests. If you did something about your weight things would be better."

"Oh. I see." And I left.

And I began to eat better and exercise. And I lost 50 lbs. And when I am running my heart doesn't stutter.

But as soon as I began getting healthy my heart stutter became more frequent.

On a normal day it stutters about upon waking, sitting at my desk, during meetings, visiting with friends, right this very moment. Every 10 seconds or so, sometimes more, sometimes less. Sometimes it goes an hour without reminding me of its existence, this little bird who accompanies me everywhere.

I wonder what it is about this bird, inside this extravagant cage of flesh and bone, that makes it so discontent. I feed it, take it for walks, and most recently because it is so demanding, I give it almost entirely free reign. It is mostly kept on my sleeve these days. For people to pet and comment how pretty and shiney her plummage is. And she preens and sings in response. But she will not still her fluttering.

And I am thinking, again, that I must face someone who knows more about hearts than I only to be told I am too young for anything to be wrong.

But perhaps the only thing wrong is the heart wants what it wants, and mine has been wanting for a very long time. Beacause, you see, 31 Earth years (and who can say how many light years before that) for a heart in search of something is much older than you or I can comprehend.

posted from Bloggeroid

Serenity

2011-12-02T12:40:00.001-07:00

On December 1st I celebrated the one year anniversary of living on my own again. This freedom to be me and to have a fighting chance at being a decent mother has been amazing. I couldn't be more content.

And then on December 2nd I woke up and felt... off? sideways? less than chipper? In actuality I sat on the edge of the bed and wept for a short while. There is no good reason, except, perhaps, I heard the whispers that for all the knowledge I'm gaining, progress I'm making, joy I'm experiencing, somethings are still going to hurt.

You see, in my efforts to adjust my boundaries, fall in love with honesty and myself, I feel a bit raw and over-exposed. It is uncomfortable in my skin today, as though I have been walking through a windstorm in the desert. This sand which is helping to shed my skin stings.

I don't mean to give the impression this experience is bad. The rawness makes my senses sharper. I can hear my name in the the rustling of the leaves outside my window.

And my exposed new skin asked for a little extra help today, so that rather than tears of frustration for everything I cannot change I could weep a bit for all the beauty in the experience.

And here is some of what I have received from caring souls:

A Recipe to Warm my Heart and Stomach: Pie Fries from MunchkinMunchies

A whisper to help me remember my Roar!
"Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the little voice at the end of the day that says, 'I'll try again tomorrow."

—Mary Anne Radmacher-Hershey

A reminder in my forgetfulness and a forgetfulness in my reminder:

in time of daffodils(who know
the goal of living is to grow)
forgetting why, remember how

in time of lilacs who proclaim
the aim of waking is to dream,
remember so (forgetting seem)

in time of roses (who amaze
our now and here with paradise)
forgetting if, remember yes

in time of all sweet things beyond
whatever mind may comprehend,
remember seek (forgetting find)

and in a mystery to be
(when time from time shall set us free)
forgetting me, remember me

e.e. cummings

A shout that I am beauty, wit, and inspiration in IIKE. ME!

And so now I'm still crying a bit, but I'm laughing, too.

The End of November

2011-11-30T07:43:00.000-07:00

November 29: For things that inspire.

A friend, who herself was part of the big push at just the right moment that inspired me to seek professional help for issues I didn’t understand but knew I had, posted a link to a blog this day. I have fallen mostly off my blog reading for the past year (sadly and promise promise promise to get back soon, although I think it served a purpose), but catch a few here and there, and am so glad I didn’t pass this by.

And this is that post: The K Is No Longer Silent: Passing for Normal.

I hope you will take the time to read it. It has inspired me to work on a post regarding my reactions to it and to be honest with myself, and you. I hope to post it soon, but do not know when it will be finished.

Everyday someone inspires me. And I have, on occasion, had the honor of hearing from some friends that I have in turn inspired them. This day it was because someone is joining my Pre-New Year’s Resolve project. Isn’t that wonderful?

November 30: The internet

I think, as you sit there reading this, you will not raise an eyebrow. But some of you might. This internet thing has crept so slowly into some of our lives that I don’t think many of us realize just how often we use it or for what we use it. Sometimes I forget, but then I think about the few months I didn’t have a smartphone, and what it’s like being at home without a computer RIGHT now. And how restricting NOT having the internet makes communication.

Let me age myself a bit. When I started using the internet we had dial-up. Oh, I shudder to think of it. I also spent time (lots of time) in chat rooms that generally involved writing our own HTML codes and god forbid you get it wrong. It totally throws off the whole conversation if it isn’t in your usual color with the right handle, and please don’t forget to end your code properly or you really looked like an idiot. That was back when I was known as either >Aurora< or `harley. I met my friend Courtly when I was...15? We still keep in touch on FB (oh! And he introduced me to my favourite artist a long time ago).

Facebook!! Remember we used to PowWow or AIM each other with our clever little avatars. Thanks to Facebook I am friends with people from high school with whom I rarely spoke (even in our very small school) and they enrich my life. My dad’s cousin found me on FB and I get to chat with her daughter, who I never knew existed. It blows my mind to think about it!

Thanks to my blog I have friends in England, Australia, & Uruguay. And I get to keep myself motivated to TRY to be a good version of me.

And so concludes our month of gratitude. But don’t worry. I think it will continue in its own way.

SO Much Gratitude!

2011-11-28T16:13:00.000-07:00

Here we are at the end of November. Every single one of us finding on a regular basis things for which to be thankful. I am mostly thankful lately that sometimes things don't turn out as expected, that somethings don't change, and that somethings do.

November 23: A day off.

I took an extra day off to accomplish some tasks and spend the day with Aurora. It turned into a day of reminders of lots of amazing things in my life.

I picked up some of the final things from that house (it stopped being The Burrow when I left). Some things that in my nervous and sickened state ("The End is Nigh") I didn't get. So it was time to haul my Christmas decor out of the attic, grab the furniture and dishes I'd donated for the year to Aurora and to be out. Out. It proved to be one hell of an interesting 45 minutes, one which only made me more grateful to be done with that chapter in my life and so happy about how far Aurora & I have come.

November 24: Thanksgiving
Isn't it just? What a lovely and oh so American day. We had turkey tacos and margaritas, the Cowboys won, and I spent time doing a whole lot of nothing.

November 25: Buy Nothing Day
An answer to the nefarious Black Friday. If you've been reading for any amount of time you know we celebrate this every year. I believe it was my 8th year. And thank you to Adbusters.org for introducing me so long ago.

AND! Rebecca came to visit! With Minions! And we all had such a lovely time!
(click for larger images)

And no one was pepper sprayed.

November 26: Something that involves mostly nothing.
I spent the entire day watching Christmas movies and crocheting. What a lovely (hand breaking) day. I'm so fortunate I have the ability to have so much free time and get to do things I love for ones I love.

November 27: Pre-New Year's Resolve.
My recent conquests have left me realizing I still too much base my worth on what others think of me. It is really just a waste of time to worry about who thinks I'm cute, or funny, or sexy, or intelligent, and who doesn't. Instead I should just be focusing on what I think of myself. I'm thankful for the perspective.
Sooo, the pre-new year's resolve is my personal project.

It has less to do with image and more how I want to feel. So while I may be working on losing 20 lbs by the new year, I'm also making sure I'm the healthiest I've ever been. Early morning jogs and dance parties, lots of water, eating better, less alcohol, more treats (like massages and mani/pedis).

Me this morning before my jog.
I've never tried the picture a day thing (I mean, for any study purpose!) so I'm going to try it between now and the first year to see how it turns out.

November 28: Health
I have aches and pains and run into walls, and fall up stairs (like this morning), or open doors on my head (like Saturday), but I've never had a major (non-elective) surgery. And even if it makes things tight I can afford to take my daughter to the doctor if something doesn't seem right, and I can even go, too.

Two days left before an UBER magical Month!

Month of Gratitude VI

2011-11-23T19:42:00.000-07:00

Last week, wherein I conquered the world, was a magical time of laughter, learning, and very little to lament.

November 19: Plan B.
I have my schedules, my calendars, my boundaries (yes, I'm working on breaking bad boundaries and constructing good boundaries), and control issues, which always have made change, or "Plan B"s terrifying! I am discovering the joy in not knowing. There is a freedom in accepting plans someone else makes, an empowerment in moving into Plan B without hesitation, and pleasure in realizing one is usually just where one should be whether it is Plan A or D.

November 20: Catching up.
tea, pastries, and a friend from so long ago. What a delicious day. SO many things up for discussion. Soul searching, working at finding a compass, hearing life experiences, fortune telling, and lots of love. It was so great to get to catch up with the lovely Jessie and I hope to have lots more (with others and her) in the future.

November 21: Not operating heavy machinery.
For my complete space cadets moments at work, I am so thankful I don't operate on people or operate heavy machinery. And that I generally have lots of people watching my back to help support me through my less than stellar moments.

November 22: Randomness.
How I love the random and awkward. They are inspiring and beautiful. And I am thankful I am able to take time to appreciate each thought and emotion that it creates in me, and watching the moments it can create for others.

Month of Gratitude V

2011-11-18T13:10:00.000-07:00

A week of thankfulness in review.

Novemeber 11: Veterans
I certainly do not always agree with why we go to war or the lies that get us there or what happens there, but I do support those who are willing to risk their own life and liberty for me and mine.

November 12:
Family.

Most emotions to be had in the world are rolled up into that simple little word. And every single one of them has allowed me to grow, in every sense. Thank you, family dearest, for driving me crazy, making me cry (sometimes because I am laughing so hard), listening to me rant and rave, allowing me to retreat into myself, perfect the "look of death", develop my loud laugh, holding me down and tickling me until I lose my voice from screaming, and loving me.

November 13: Positive thoughts. I decided to take over the world. It is absolutely amazing the effect positive engery, words, thoughts, and actions have had on me in the past couple of weeks. AND on others.

November 14: Alone time.
For all of my love of social activity. I love being alone. I love the time it allows for me to retreat into my thoughts, have amazing dance parties to Robbie, craft, clean, write, read, and generally be/do whatever the hell I want.

November 15: T.W.G. (Time With God)
I've started attending a new church. They are genuinely the nicest people I have met. I'm still my cynical self. I have always had a relationship with Christianity where I'm on the run. There are times I'm running to it, but most often from it. I took it on in college the way I take on everything. Like a project. No surprise I have a degree in history and religion. T.W.G. and the church are accepting and emotive. I am accepting (but don't forget, cynical) and emotive about everything EXCEPT god, but there have been times when it finally breaks through and the feeling of love and acceptance is something I wish I always felt. I found that again this Tuesday. I actually cried.

November 16: Fitting into my skin. I feel like I'm getting it right more often, this being me thing. It feels amazing.

November 17: Laughter. I love laughing. I do it all the time. I have a loud laugh. Sometimes I think I should be Mrs. Claus. I love the freedom that comes feeling joy loudly! I am especially thankful for the times when there is someone next to me doing the same.

November 18: Natural Beauty. I am not a fan of snow, but I am thankful that I live in a place surrounded with so much natural beauty that even something I don't like makes me warm and fuzzy.

Mail Project

2011-11-11T13:05:00.000-07:00

I adore words. I love speaking, singing, and especially writing. With the heart of a romantic, the mind of a historian, and the anxiety of one who fears committment, I LOVE letters. My favourite forms of communication include paper, pens, keyboards, and screens.

I also love projects. Something, most likely, to do with my desire for boundaries, rules, and organizing. But like Sea Wolf, I am only a "Middle Distance Runner." So long term projects have never been my thing. I shudder to think about the half fulfilled projects I've tossed out over the years, and let's not speak much on what I currently have hiding in the craft closet.

With all of these things in mind it is no large suprise how much I also enjoy mail. And I'm tempering my feelings. Receiving mail is like hearing a baby laugh for the first time (and being the cause), watching the first leaf fall, or tasting a perfectly ripened peach. It almost hurts.

I've been, with the recent revelation reverberating in my mind that "People are NOT Projects", thinking mail is such a lovely project. So some of you may have recently gotten prizes. If I have your address, you should most definitely be getting something (although I can't say how soon, because things must be made, compiled, found, wait for signs from the universe, etc.)

If I do not have your address but you want in on the fun please send it to crzyquinn at hotmail dot com. No Place Is TOO Far!

Month of Gratitude IV

2011-11-10T20:50:00.002-07:00

November 9:
I have a great job. A job about which I love to bitch on occasion, because it does sometimes cause eye twitches, heart murmurs, & tears, it is only because I care. I also have a job that allows me to work in an area in which I excel (organizing, scheduling, and retaining lots of seemingly useless information in my head for years and years of logistical history), with more people that I care for than I do not, & in my home, my alma mater.

November 10:
I'm grateful for my ability to laugh, which I dearly love to do & and do frequently with fervor. It makes my insanity much easier to accept.

Funny Farm: Bits of a Childhood

2011-11-08T12:55:00.000-07:00

There are pieces of my childhood that seem stolen from a novel. Pieces that have overwhelmingly shaped my existence in ways I still have yet to understand; they tend to fade into the background, but on occasion the right song will play, or a scent will come over a field, or someone makes a reference, and everything comes rushing back.

When I was much younger, probably Aurora's age, when my parents were still married, my mother was a bit of a musician. She played guitar and oh my could she sing. And we had friends who were involved in our lives in so many ways. The Hunts. They owned horses, like we did, and Glenda gave riding lessons and worked with my dad at the hospital, and Jack shod our horses. And they had two girls that were almost identical ages to Chelsea (Erin) and me (Lindsey). And Jack also played and sang.

And somehow a party was created. I was far too young to know many details but I've pieced some things together. One summer we headed to Coeur d'Alene, to Parker's place, and met up with the Hunts and lots of other people from Washington and Oregon and California, like Marty and Dan, and hung out in barns. and danced around camp fires, and stayed up late listening and singing.

And, oh, the dirty jokes. Not that I got most of them, but I got enough. And Dan, Dan the harmonica man.. I tend to crush on harmonica and banjo players, to this day. And we sang. We sang things like:

Songs that define my childhood also are from our weeks long jam sessions, like Tracy Chapman's Fast Car, Puff the Magic Dragon, and The Judd's Grandpa Tell Me Bout the Good Old Days.

And then we built a house out in Parma. And a couple of years later new neighbors moved in, and they raised sheep. And one wild summer we invited all our musician friends to the "Funny Farm Jam Session".

Lots of late nights, lots of drinking, and lots and lots of singing. And breakfasts! oh, I love getting a mini-screwdriver in the morning and feeling so grown up as my 8(?)-year-old self firted shamelessly with the cute men (I'm pretty sure mom still has a picture of me in Dan's hat and sunglasses, one of my crowning moments of "Funny Farm").

It was also the first time I learned about the worm in the bottom of a tequila bottle. And I don't think I will ever forget the amazing feats of trickery and dancing around as so many adults tried to Not get that worm. It was Denny, by the way, that eventually accidently drank it and then spit it out into the mud while I stood nearby giggling and shuddering.

I only now can appreciate what my mother, at the time "slightly" anal retentive, must of gone through to allow so many untameable crazies in her house.

We had rules, you see; very important rules. Rules that included no shoes in the house and no food in the living room. But we hosted this 2 week long drunk fest anyway. And they followed the rules. Really they did.

And so November 8: today I am grateful for all the interesting experiences I was allowed to have as a child, which helped create my fun-loving, music enjoying, dancing no matter who is looking or where we are self.

Month of Gratitude III

2011-11-07T12:17:00.000-07:00

Feeling better. Voice still mostly horrifying, however. But it doesn't matter because this month is AWESOME.

November 5:

"Remember, remember the Fifth of November! Happy Guy Fawkes Day!!
I think Guy would be in full support of the Occupy movement. Remember to question authority, stand up for the little person (sometimes that is you and sometimes it is not), and do your damnedest to right injustices! ♥" was my homage to Guy on my tired but busy and fun Saturday.

I am thankful to have a voice (okay, maybe the timing is a little off here LOL). I can write, scream, whisper my opinions to the world if I like, and so can you. And even when we don't agree I'm glad when you get to say something that makes me twitch or yell or disagree, because as much as we all talk, I don't think we exercise our right to freedom of speech enough.

November 6:

I am incredibly thankful for the many amazing people in my life to whom I can confide, laugh at myself and the state of things, pour out all of my inane ramblings (for years and years), or just be. I think I take advantage of you all much more than I should without acknowledging just what a great difference it makes to me.

I am sometimes left breathless to think of all the people I can (and have and do) turn to in a fluster, or tears, or silly news and been received with open arms. I hope you rely on me in the same way. I hope you will and do and know that you can.

November 7:
I am grateful to be in a position that may not put me in the 1% of wealthy americans but I'm sure it puts me into a high percentage of health and wealth in the world.

We do not go hungry; I can provide a comfortable place for me and my daughter to live and play; I have a car and money to pay to drive it to visit family and friends; I have money enough in the bank to treat friends to dinner or surprise treats; I can buy unnecessary bits to create things that bring me and others happiness.

I am Sooo not busy struggling to support my family or feed my daughter that I can instead focus on our hearts and happiness. I live an AMAZING LIFE!

Month of Gratitude II

2011-11-04T08:18:00.001-06:00

I am sick. Going home sick. Teeth ache sick. Can't swallow sick. I'm sleeping well, though, so that's a bonus.

November 3: I am thankful for Jackie. She is a wondeful Australian blogger who I follow and who follows me (even when I am not blogging much, and more importantly when I am not READING much). It is amazing how much one little comment, when you think not a single person in the world other than yourself is paying attention, can change your whole perspective. I would also like to point out that she is ABSOLUTELY CORRECT when she says I should be thankful not to live in a place that houses these puppies (note: brace yourself).

November 4: I am thankful for my precious, precocious, independent, hellfire on wheels, imaginative, creative, and genuinely considerate and loving daughter, Aurora.

Without false modesty, I can honestly say she was born amazing.

Nature vs. nurture, right?

Well, there is a whole hell of a lot more Nature to her, thank goddess, than what my nurturing could possibly have turned out.

As a parent I am forced to see all the horrible, stupid, stubborn, ridiculous, angry bits of myself much more than I would like. She forces a mirror to my face. There is a lot of apolozing I continually have to do. And I am so grateful that in spite of my best efforts she is turning out to be a wholeheartedly caring person. I have a very long haul to get through, this life of mine and hers, and if she was not who she is I honestly don't think I would have the desire to be better or to try harder. I want her to look back at her childhood (even all the shitty parts) and smile. I owe her that and for that I am grateful.

A Month of Gratitude

2011-11-02T08:36:00.000-06:00

Let's end the year right. Like so many others I'm going to be picking something for which I'm grateful each day of the month. And although I probably won't be posting daily I think I can remember to count, and I'll get one for each day. We can hope, anyway.

November 1: I am grateful for a cozy place to rest my migraine filled brain.

November 2: I am grateful I live in a place where I can leave the back door unlocked for a week before noticing and my keys over night in the front door.

xo

Life of a Singleton

2011-10-25T17:54:00.000-06:00

There are times when life melds wonderfully, but most of the time I feel as though I am leading a double life. In part, this is to figure out what the heck I really am doing with all my time and what I should continue to do because it makes me happy and what I shouldn't do because it makes me cry, or what is important for me to do because it makes me cry and that means I'm learning or what makes me laugh and I learn and, well, I hope you get the point.

Whatever the case, there is a lot of doing lately. And a lot of head turning. And a lot of pondering and agreeing and disagreeing. If you're worried about me at this point.. please don't be. It is all part of the journey afterall.

And I'm finally seeing a counselor and listening to some amazing spiritual advisors (like the lovely Becky, Enlightening Whispers, and long time acquaintance Jim, Spiritual Awakening Process). And although they keep reminding me that learning to be healthy and happy requires a lot of letting go... in order for me to let go also means I have to let go of fear and my fear is usually the fear of saying yes. So, therefore, there is a lot of saying yes and DOING!

Last week was very full.
Sunday evening was an advisory board dinner (for Gamma Phi Beta, as I'm helping out as the PR advisor for our local chapter) followed IMMEDIATELY by me checking out a new church. I'm still checking it out. It is interesting. Lots of very nice people, good music, open.. a bit emotive for me (I know, it always suprises me, too, that the one thing I am NOT emotive about is my personal relationship with the universe, at least not in front of people).

Monday night was dinner and truth telling with some of my closest friends. I don't think they would mind me stating that we're all very different and each come with a very unique set of fucked up issues. We're working on them. What else is there to do?

Tuesday night attended T.W.G. at the new church. TWG stands for Time With God. A band plays, there is art, journaling, talking, prayer. Like I said, I'm trying it out... I don't know if it will change my relationship with the universe, or if that is even what I want to do. But sometimes, especially lately, when the universe throws something into the path, it's best not to ignore it.

Wednesday night I had drinks with a good-looking new acquaintance. We went to the Hollow, which was nice because I got my favourite beer and my head didn't explode from newness.

Thursday I went to my first sushi restaurant (no I didn't eat, nor will I eat, fish), but had a yummy happy bowl and then we went to the most unbelievable play in ever. "Shipwrecked". just a few players. It was eccentric and harrowing and funny. I laughed, I cried, I laughed so hard I cried. Yep, it was amazing.

Friday night Sam and I went to another play, of not quite the same caliber, but super enjoyable for all its hokiness. Also, we were smart enough to sneak in a bottle of rum when we realized there was no alcohol. Unfortunately, they served soda in cans, so there were awkward bathroom breaks and guzzling and pouring and giggling. Fortunately, the couple seated with us were so sweet and innocent they really didn't have a clue.

And then I made a complete fool of myself afterwards talking as loudly as ever about the hot 17-year-old in the play... unfortunately, his mother was behind us. She didn't appear to be drinking rum, so she wasn't quite as pleased with the conversation. Oh well. I don't think I should have to explain to EVERY person I run into that I don't discriminate (especially by age). I'm an equal opportunity flirt. It's a talent.

Saturday was lounging and (owl)ie creating before heading to a friend's for wine and jewelry and delicious snackies, like brie. mmmmmmmmmmm. And upon arriving home I stayed up to crochet and watch "Donnie Darko".. twice.

Yea, I know, but I couldn't sleep.

See, here's the thing about trying to understand oneself.. it requires re-processing things. A LOT. because first everything is processed as normal (which isn't always healthy), and then there is taking a step back and thinking, "okay, so if I weren't me and I were a normal person who wasn't terrified of these things, how would I react and process things?" and then re-processing. But then all those habits crop up again and your brain starts twisting things into old, recognizable forms. And then... you have to bloody start all over re-evaluating and, well, it's exhausting AND LOUD. So I've been completely wired a lot lately.

And, yes, it's okay if at this point you think I'm utterly insane (worse than we expected). I keep wondering the same. But I'd rather be where I am now.. starting to understand the patterns and know that they are fixable and that a lot of things about me are perfectly perfect... then always scared that I'm just not experiencing life because I AM Scared.

Lazy Weekend, Somewhat

2011-10-18T16:32:00.001-06:00

Saturday, Aurora and I headed to farmers' market and bought some delicious locally made soap and soy melts for our warmer - which means as soon as I remember to replace my burnt out bulb our house will deceitfully smell of mulled cider. And an amazing hand crafted wood top and spinner.

We also went to Rock Paper Scissors to get our hair did. And boy oh boy did we need it! As my hair grows at an unbelievable rate I always come out on the end of my six weeks looking a ragamuffin; and Aurora, with her opposite of mommy hair (thin and straight), always looks of ragamuffin-ness. But now we look lovely!

Both with some added red highlights to our hair; although Aurora REALLY wanted all over color. This is how her logic worked.

Earlier that morning:
"Mom, look a SQUIRREL!"

"ARGGGGGHHHHHHH!"

"Mom, why do you hate squirrels?"

"Because they are evil and they attack me."

"Why don't they attack everyone else? Is it because you look horrible and we look pretty?"

And which point I begin crying, but I think it was mostly with hilarity.

A couple of hours later, whilst Meg is coloring my hair:

"Mom, do I get color all over?"

"No, Aurora, you need those brain cells."

"But, Mom, the squirrels attack me, too!"

A nice bit of logic. And really, if she weren't so very young that argument would have been enough to convince me.

And I promise to not cut A's hairbangs by myself anymore. It just frustrates everyone, including our delightful and magical hair stylist. So I've already made an appointment for A's next trim. Yea for me.

Aurora, upon arriving home, played for hours with the top spinner. It is quite impressive. I am, at my best, uncoordinated, so although she can get it to spin upside down, add toys to it, run it into furniture, in the carpet, down stairs, and have it spin for hours EVERYTIME, I have only ONCE gotten it to spin.

And I got to spend hours crocheting, reading, occasionally writing, and watching random movies whilst she played at my feet. It was lovely. We even treated ourselves to fries and a shake from a local hamburger joint.

Sunday, oh what a rainy rainy Sunday, proved to be delightful as well.
We got dressed...
Well, actually I wore my sweats, so just Aurora got dressed in her usual finery.

Now, I realize it LOOKS like she's wearing the same outfit, but she's not. She just apparently is big into Pink tops, and happens to have two sparkly skirts (one is white and one is pink). And she, getting her fashion sense from her fabulous mother, couldn't pick the matching hot pink leg warmers in her drawer. Nope, had to go for the Yote stripes. That's my girl!

And went to the Sunrise. Great spot for rainy days, snow days, or hangovers. We spent a long time playing hangman, drinking coffee (or hot chocolate to which she wanted to add sugar - she got that gene from Tia Angel as I drink even my coffee black), eating lots of yummy sausage and strawberry covered french toast.

Talk soon turned serious, however, as she decided she wanted to know what would happen if there was a space shake. So, I delved into earth quakes and tetonic plates (using our dishes for demos) and how we couldn't do that in space what with no land. She didn't really buy it and thought if the whole world shook enough surely something would happen and my knowledge was at an end, so you know I really couldn't tell her and decided perhaps it was time for a distraction.

Fortunately, she had to use the restroom. She also insisted on going by herself. Ahhh, the inner mommy struggle. I do perfer for her to be independent (although this backfires an awful lot) and we live in an area I consider to be very safe, but still, mommy senses start tingling when the little one wanders too far. But I managed to let her go. And when she returned she proved she's my daughter through and through:

"MOM! I saw a cute boy! He's as tall as me and we both are wearing short sleeves!"

Yep, I know how those cogs are working. Clearly the fateful sign of similar length sleeves meant they were truly soul mates. Goodness, I know I'm not supposed to rush it, but aren't we going to have so much fun together when she's older? Think of all the boy terrorizing we can do!

Unfortuantely, as I had a meeting with a client Sunday afternoon, our rainy day ended far too soon.

But I'm up for singleton adventures this week which will involve hanging out a new church I'm trying on for size (tonight is their bi-weekly concert), having libations at my favourite place (Yep, the Hollow), getting to attend TWO plays, and I have a surprising amount of time on my hands this Saturday and Sunday, so some activities are as of yet unforeseen!

It Won't Stop

2011-10-14T12:43:00.001-06:00

Because the noise in my head is so loud today. It doesn't like to be ignored.

Triple Six

2011-10-13T13:20:00.000-06:00

It seems fitting that today I should reach post number "666". You may say what you want about this number; I find it beautiful. Three is the magic number, as you know, and I'm a six.

(hat courtesy of Angel)

And some will say the following about sixes:

"This is the peace lover. The number six is a loving, stable, and harmonious vibration. Ruled by Venus.

Keywords: compassionate, stable, family-loving, trustworthy, domesticated. If expressed negatively, superficial, jealous, possessive, unwilling to change.

As lovers: Number Sixes have a deep dislike of discord and will generally work hard at keeping the peace. They are very attached to their homes and their families. At their best, they are devoted and stable partners who do whatever they can to maintain balance and harmony. At their worst, they take their peace-loving natures too far, and become lethargic, diplomatic to the point of superficiality, and jealous."

Moon Child

2011-10-12T08:00:00.000-06:00

Orion and the planets are calling to me.

I have the desire to wander somewhere quiet, and still, and lit only by the moon.

You could join me.

We could be silent together.

I also want to light a fire, and laugh, and let go, and dance.

All that is past will turn to ash.
The future will be born in energetic flame, on the tip of my tongue, bubbling from my throat, drunk on wine, and love of life.

I believe the Fates are smiling, and plotting, with a twinkle in that eye, which makes me giggle as I shiver.

Can you feel the electricity around your fingertips?

I'd let you shock me.

Set aside your cynicism, disbelief, insecurities, and fear.

Prepare for acceptance, magic, warmth, discovery, and joy.

I want to love and be loved, for me and for you, even if only for a little while.

Lingering

2011-10-10T13:30:00.000-06:00

There was lingering this weekend. I think it may be hard to explain what a delightful surprise that was for me. Lingering is so rare anymore. I find it is different from being stationary. I may have sat home some evenings last week devouring books, but with so many things to do in this very social weekend I expected to be a bit harried. Of course, you must understand the harried feeling is something that comes from myself, and not due to anyone else.

I shall try to clarify a bit. I am a planner. I always have been. I know that it will take me 12.5 minutes max. to shower, 10 for my hair, 5 for my makeup, so in under 30 minutes I can be out the door. And on my way somewhere that I know will only take 15 minutes but the anxiety of being late is already worrying me, so I started my shower 30 minutes before I should have and now am leaving a full 20 minutes ahead of time because the butterflies in my stomach just can't stand to stare at the clock and count down the seconds to when any normal person would think about leaving.

And working in events, where everything is either a giant or miniscule puzzle piece to a larger whole that we are putting together, compounds this need. From the outlook calendars (where I track not only my own calendar, but our setup calendar, and our AV tech's calendar, the conference room calendar), to the system wherein I do most of my job (EMS) which tracks every class, every meeting, every banquet, lecture, student movie showing, wedding, reception, holiday, etc. and places this many tables on this wall, in this hallway at this precise moment in this precise order, and where will the microphones be and at what time and will it be him or me or someone else and what side note did that customer request that isn't standard so we just have to add it and remember it, to the two homemade wall calendars behind me in the office (home made because companies don't make yearly calendars as far out as I need them to fit all the pieces together), and there is Aurora's custody schedule and school schedule and homework schedule, etc.

This is all very well and good for my freakishly over-active control feature, and not so well and good for me trying to let loose and enjoy life in general without freaking everyone else out.

Sooooooo this weekend I envisioned something like this:

Frances' at 10:45 to leave for Courtney's Pampered Chef party at 11am
2 pm or so to wander with the ladies to Art in the Bar IV
3 pm to hang out with Frances whilst getting ready for a wedding she was going to
5 pm to hang out with Emma to dine and get ready for PROM!coming
7 pm leave for PROM!coming out in BFE
7:30 PROM!coming begins

What happened was:

11:15 leave Frances' with the amazing entourage of Mee-Ae, FYN, Emma, and Samantha. Eat, drink, be merry, girl chat, order something, chat, get a lovely bottle of Malbec (Thank you Courtney for remembering how much I love Malbecs!) head to Emma's.
1:30 pm wander from Emma's, the exceedingly farther than I thought way to Portches for their jewelry sale, bitching and glaring the whole time at Emma for how far she is making me traverse

1:45 pm enter the GLORIOUSLY kept under glass jewelry store of Portches, which is having a 50% off sale, and not at all what I expected and tried not to choke at some of the over 10K tags. I also made the very wise decision to NOT try on the hand painted enamel piece with gold filigree and custom set diamonds from 1890 that would have looked absolutely like it was made to rest on my collar bones and had a price tag of 14K.

2:30ish leave and walk past the Chocolate Bar and decide it would be quite wise of us to also enter and buy some chocolate to make up for the lack of purchases in the antique jewelers store.

3 pm walk out with Dark Chocolate & Ginger Twig/Lime & Ginger Hard Vanilla Twig (these have yet to be devoured)

3: 15 pm enter PieHole for some pizza. Flirt shamelessly with gorgeous singer from Finn Riggins who I don't know is married until we leave with our hot slices of pizza for the LONG Trek back to Emma's.

3:45 pm leave Emma's with Frances to prep her wedding attire

4:30 pm arrive back at Emma's with PROM!coming gear and the intention to FINALLY make it to Art in the Bar. Another long trek.

5 pm enter Art in the Bar IV and visit with friend Anica, whose manga style work I love and who made me aware of the event in the first place.

We see amazing lego treasure boxes complete with sneaky hiding holes and hundreds of dollars in work.
Beautiful photography from Wayne at Dead Bird Gallery. My favourite is the dead fly. Emma got a great necklace at 50% from him. Why? Because she's hot and batted her eyelashes.
There was this piece that I like from Manuela Muminovic:

There is Connie Sales, and her art is deep and saddening and beautiful. And lots and lots of other amazing pieces.

We lingered here.. much longer than I intended and entered in an apropos text conversation which also was of the lingering type.

Emma walked back to her place for cash to purchase her necklace. I sat and talked with Anica and enjoyed a beer. Emma and I discussed the wisdom of perhaps getting dinner before heading to PROM!coming. We decided it would be good. Plus, we were enjoying the lingering. Or I was, maybe not so much Emma.

But realizing the clock we decided skipping food would be wise so we could dress.

And finally at 7:15 pm we make it back to Emma's to prep our lovely selves for the prom.

It is after 8 pm when Emma finally mentions how late it is and we are DEFINITELY late and am I going to be okay (you see, she's seen the anxiousness in action before and we were invited to come over EARLIER and now we were later and usually my head has exploded at this point).

And we arrived and then the party really got started. God, I needed the dancing. And soooo many great songs that were actually played at our high school dances.. and here are just a few of my favourite pictures from the night.

And then we headed down town because there were MORE EVENTS.. like the leftover evening of that wedding Frances went to and then an old friend from college was having a birthday party and we had to stop in and even though I was done drinking for the evening a certain person who shall remain nameless except for the new title of "Scrumy" ordered us whiskey shots and beer. Yes, the look of incredulity on my face (I had just consumed almost an entire bottle of alcohol by myself at PROM!coming) was enough that a few people made note of it and then I put on my big girl panties and drank it all anyway.

And the next morning we had brunch and you know my anxiety didn't return until I realized I was going to only just be on time to pick up Aurora and would not at all be able to shower or stop at the grocery or any of the other things I had on my schedule to do that Sunday.

Imaginings of a Traveler

2011-10-07T12:08:00.000-06:00

Last night, whilst taking a break between Sherlock Holmes stories, I decided to write a bit. I walked to my book shelf and grabbed the nearest notebook. Stuffed between many blank pages were torn out pages from other notebooks.

Some pages were unsent letters filled with angst and heart wrenching truths that made me cry, but were not meant to be shared then nor at this moment (though someday some of them certainly will see light and you may even read portions). Three small pages, however, front and back, filled with tiny script ( which is odd because my handwriting tends to be as loud my mouth so I must have been nearing the end of the book) contained meanderings from a short sit in an airport lounge.

This is from a few years ago:

"No surprise to be surrounded by guys with high-n-tight haircuts. My departure from San Diego Internat'l; if I concentrate I can smell the light salt of the pacific bringing images of ships at port. And before me a young marine sitting "Indian Style" and barefoot in the soon-to-be uncomfortable black airport furniture. Whoever makes these chairs is probably swimming in a pool of Cristal while money falls from their balcony, which the maids are cleaning.

But back to my marine, he's slight of stature and is demurely listening to his iPod. If his hair hadn't belied his relaxed state I'm not sure the camo backpack & matching sandals would have given him away. But I am still new to this "Spy the Military" game I'm playing [thanks to NCIS]. He is lightly tanned and his eyes have begun to flick nervously at the encroaching Tide of people to his row.

I sit almost singularly in a long row with my back to a wall. I am waiting for him to make a move to a more defensible position - five seats to my left, near an emergency exit. But the idea of making an immediate move would give away his agenda of solitude.

There appear to be a few crowd watchers, other than myself, But I am at a small gate. A tiny plane to Vegas - seems odd- I wonder what the odds are. Everyone is busy pretending to be separate from humanity - even myself with my chicken scratch in a novel sized journal. Some are on their phones, pretending to be important. A lean and not ugly young gentleman to my right is discussing selling/buying a few stocks but I will pretend it is for the benefit of the frumpy girl with the Pringles next to him. It isn't hard to impress her, he thinks. But I am she and I'm moving on to someone more appealing and less mundane.

A man who is older cannot extricate himself from work. He is rifling through papers, some containing graphs, perhaps they are statistics regarding the number of deaths each year by lightening (more than sharks as we do not live in the water). Yesterday, in VA, a 12-year-old boy was struck and killed by lightening on his little league ball field. Game had been called. His mother was screaming for him to get off the field. Had she gone to get him perhaps her height would have distracted the gods - fooled Death for just a moment and went for her - sparing her son and the other boy playing catch with him.

This man with his laptop open and reading PDFs from his email. He is reading a study on lightening resistant clothing and this is how uniforms of the future come to made of rubber. Oy! Again this mere babe to my right will NOT stop discussing the market, now with a new victim of his feel important in the airport cellphone drama.

And then the marine stood up and it makes a bit of sense. Napoleon complex. I almost wish I am seated next to him so I can ask why he enlisted, but it is better this way. To imagine his need to prove himself to his tall and masculine father, or perhaps those bullies in school who found it too easy to pick him up in between classes and lodge him in an emptied locker in spite of his talent as a wiry wrestler.

There are many comical people at the gate today. A large woman in platform vinyl shoes, Betty Paige hair, and her calves tattooed with Frankenstein (left) and Bride (right) in mini black convertibles. I'm sure a glimpse of ink on her arms would reveal spider webs, bats, and perhaps an antique cross or sarcophagus.

An older gentleman is our flight attendant today. He looks like a high school teacher - Math or PE. His summer job allows him to travel around the US. His name is Kyle and his goal for the next 3 months is to see all over sized monuments, such as the largest ball of yarn, the largest frying pan, the most ginormous shoelace, and, if lucky, the amazingly humongous collection of potato chips shaped like celebrities.

I would like to close my eyes and try my hand at sleeping; however, it is a very full flight and a listing head would not be appreciated, especially by the woman in white to my right. The raspberry paint on my lips would ruin her lovely cover."

Harvest Time

2011-09-28T14:55:00.000-06:00

September has been a complete dichotomy of everythingness. So many events, but there are moments where it is dragging - and I can't help but feel as the universe is just messing with my head. Speeding everything up just so I run head long into some monumental experience.

I have always been a firm believer that things happen for a reason. This is why I try not to get too impatient when stuck behind a slow driver, or I lock my keys in the car, because the universe is telling me to slow down - maybe if I were on the road 15 minutes earlier I would have been involved in a wreck. I have mentioned "All Things" (the Gillian Anderson epi. on the X-Files) before, and I'm sure it helped hone my beliefs.

Having recently watched "The Adjustment Bureau" I am NOW ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN that obstacles are placed in our path to help us "miss" things, or Not.

September has been full of adjustments. Things like getting in over my head and locking myself in a bathroom (sounds silly, it was, but it was also one of the most terrifying nights of my entire life), getting my first traffic ticket, changing Aurora schedules, and lots of work.

So in keeping with the theme of the month I'm also adjusting my rules.

My rules - those ever important boundaries that keep me on the straight, narrow, and self-righteous road where I am so comfortable - are suddenly VERY Constrictive. And things that used to seem black and white have suddenly turned bright orange with pink polka dots, and that leaves the rules very, very angry. So we, the rules and I, have gotten together and had a few talks, a few fist fights, a few kiss and make-up sessions, and we've decided at this point on the path they should probably just be friendly guidelines.

Oddly enough I'm mostly all grown up now, and I should just trust myself to make the right decision for me.

A few fun things that have happened between all this self-adjusting are....

Me and the bestie, Angel/Flo at movie premier

Flo, me, Sunny, Gary (Flo's bro), Lacey (his gf) and Amber!

The 11th annual Taste of the Harvest

(yep, that's Aurora sliding down)

Awesome belly dancing at TOH!

I can't wait for October to start! Look forward to PROM!coming, random trips, Halloween prep, and more blogging!

xoxo

September, All Ready?

2011-09-07T12:41:00.000-06:00

Not sure if I'm ready, but here we go anway. School's back in session, everywhere. Aurora is a first grader - with homework and all. College kids are back and Everywhere - including moved into the townhouses where I live. Eek! But it's nice to see them about campus, along with the faculty (who I actually miss when they are gone).

Gearing up for Taste of the Harvest (our 11th) on the 24th! And other local wine festivals, like Festa! happening this weekend. This weekend is also the Repent movie premiere.. where in I get really bloody and die.

Pretty, eh?

Trying to get past some obstacles I've created for myself along this transformative path. Thank you to everyone who is helping me break them down - and sometimes saving me from myself (or at least trying to patch together the pieces when I've messed up).

And although there are moments I've felt like crying and giving up - you really are helping to keep me together and moving forward - so look for some fun posts soon, with lots of homework time, adventure time (Aurora's trying out for a mouse part in the nutcracker, keep your fingers crossed), (owl)ies, some Shakespeare and a bit of other revelry. If you want to join in just let me know!

xo

Down the Hole

2011-08-26T08:34:00.000-06:00

A dear friend of mine offered up an adventure early this week. A photo shoot for a year class; the theme "ODD". Well, we know how much I love to be in front of a camera, and how much I love to be odd... so we arranged to have a photo shoot Wednesday night. It got off to a rough start with a sudden case of running late! But Amy was oh so gracious and we spent some time at dinner catching up about our lives (we grew up together, and live within minutes, but somehow only see each other every couple of years).

We then headed to my place to grab ... well, props, of course. I always like to keep a few things handy for impromptu costumey things - so we started throwing jewelry, makeup, towels, masks, etc, into a bag. And then the question, "Can you do something weird with your hair." Oh, yes, yes I can.

SO with NO makeup and my faux hawk set in place we headed a few minutes into the country to an old town (Of about 3 houses, but you know it has a Post Office, so it IS still a town) to Huston. There's the old school there and even with some "No Trespassing" signs we thought it would definitely be worth the effort.

As we pull up we notice two VERY... ummmm, interesting men hanging around outside the school. We decided it would be best to see if they minded us crashing the place. The two gentlemen were obviously a bit awed by seeing me in sparking blue sequins and high, high hair. And asked if I always went out and about looking like that. I admitted it wasn't too far from the truth. And I think we each thought the other party to be, well, odd.

But we had to get to the photo taking... And it was easy. She just had me throw on some lipstick. Who new all natural could look so pretty with the right photographer! The location was gorgeous, even if possibly dangerous in places. And I had sooo much fun. Amy has posted a few of her photos, which have completely blown me away.

So here's a peek...

You can see MORE of her amazing photos HERE

And I'm looking forward to getting more from her soon.

But for now, hugs and kisses from Idaho's latest supermodel!

Order in the Owlery

2011-08-23T12:42:00.001-06:00

Aurora and I had a lovely stayca break last week. It was much needed after the summer conference season and just a week before Aurora starts elementary school!

We were able to visit friends at some birthday celebrations like Justin's Dirty 30 at the lovely Lazy Dog Gardens:

And visiting with my long time friend, Amber and her kids and family, on their summer trip to Idaho:

And THHHEEEEENNNN, because the public schools now have some RIDICULOUS dress code (nothing but solid shirts without logos and only wear blue or black bottoms), we dyed Aurora's hair....

BUT.. I would like to say "Semi-permanent my AUNT FANNY!" Apparently we spent so much time in the water (because she's a water witch and loses all her magical abilities if she doesn't)...

The color came out after three days. Grrrrr.. So we're attempting again tonight (since school starts tomorrow).

But we had lots of relaxing, like watching "The Never Ending Story," "Barbie's A Mermaid's Tale," AND "Narnia: Voyage of the Dawn Treader."

I would like to say "Dawn Treader" is one of my favourite in the Narnia Chronicles, and I was NOT in the slightest disappointed in the movie. I bawled like a baby every time Aslan came on screen (as usual) and was sobbing through the whole end. LOVED the actor they found for Eustace! He was amazing! Ben Barnes is much more enjoyable with his usual Brit accent and not that crazy Inigo Montoya Spanish thing he had for the last one. And Skandar.... well, what can I say except I still think he is absolutely beautiful and the most perfect Edmund.

Found time to eat yummy treats at "Bacon" with the delectable Hannah; hang out with Sunny and Gavin; setup Aurora's tent in the living room; play at Nana's; visit Papa Dennis; and organize.

And I couldn't help myself.. I warned you. After digging out my journals and seeing all my boxes of books (even though when I moved I got rid of 6 boxes!) I just HAD to bring them in.

Yep... see the great thing is that Second Stack of books.. they're all books I HAVEN'T read yet! Yea!

And also, whilst cleaning, we've christened the apartment (clearly): The Owlery.

Don't ask me why it took so long. Seems entirely obvious. But until I got my books and papers and pens all in order around me I just didn't feel it. But as a place for passing on messages, writing, reading, sending, dreaming, and housing (Owl)ies, well - what could be more perfect?

Look forward to a few more adventures soon, like my Wednesday night model shoot with the wonderful Amy.. who is working on the theme "Odd" (not at all strange she would pick me, is it?), and the Repent Movie premiere is fast approaching!

Not So Much Sketching

2011-08-12T10:57:00.001-06:00

as ripping and painting and gluing, but it's getting the job done. After finishing my last bound journal (not including my current one and before moving on to HGI) I decided that although I had ripped out everything I mean to keep, to revise for stories, or to place in other journals as reminders, there had to be SOMETHING else I could do with at least bits of them. I mean, they're shite. Yes, I guess, they were supposed to be to a certain extent, but some of those pages still bring me to tears, or made me giggle, and that's worth something.

So I flipped quickly through them and found a few more uses for some pages out of momentous times in my life. And decided to add to my "In 10 Minutes" Sketchbook project:

Like a post about crying which ended in a very long scream

Or some Shakespeare I had felt the melodramatic need to copy down

HOW ABOUT the pages I wrote all about coincides.. except we all know there are no such things

And old letter I written in college that was waiting to be sent

Or my sketch of one of the most horrific moments/places I experienced in Auschwitz

This is Your Life!

2011-08-10T12:31:00.000-06:00

My journaling homework is not quite complete, but I've reached a good pausing point. I have ingested, over the last week and a half, my self from 14-24.

It was mostly unpleasant. Decidedly embarrassing.

It was not at all the history of things I thought it would be. Or rather, for clarification, it was NOT at all what my 14 to 22-year-old self imagined I was capturing for future reference, but almost what my 31-year-old self imagined, except worse.

I am disappointed with myself for not noting all those moments that mattered so much, moments I can still recall; they floated around my mind around the words I was reading, searching for some sign of the significant things in my life. I imagined someday I would let my daughter read all my about my crazy antics.

Instead all (but a few torn out quirky episodes, starts of stories, mini-chapters to my someday novellas, and EVEN some amazingly poignant and insightful heart/pen bleeds) are now thrown behind my couch, out of sight, and awaiting a ritualistic letting go of all the idiotic things I did, said, obsessed over. I have no doubt now it WILL contain flame. Can't release all that into the universe in any form but ashes.

I am happy (? no, not happy, relieved) that after college my journaling became less obsessive, more filled with daily tasks, cares, worries (not always related to boys), and more stories and self-insight. I kept the most from my last two journals (being 22/23 and beginning 24-years-old).

And I have many people to thank and to whom I owe apologies, those who stuck through it all with me (Sunny, Angel, Samantha). How did you ever (do you still) put up with THAT? I owe us all an apology.

I think also to those who did give up on me. I can't blame you. I am So Sorry. I think you have distanced yourself even beyond reading these pages, but I hope the Universe signals you somehow. Perhaps just a kind thought about something happy and hopeful we once shared. That would be enough.

I have another leg to go - starting with being pregnant. I think, now, I am most scared of this journey. This immediately painful past that, although I am certainly in a brighter and more cognizant portion of the path, is looming just behind me. But it has to be for the best. To see one's faults and to stare them in the eye and try to make amends - isn't that why I have been driven to write? My own presentiment for loss should now be turned towards gaining peace.

I Heart Portland, Ore., Part IV

2011-08-09T12:32:00.000-06:00

Meet Mr. Eyebrows, in case you haven't already. He is my adorable pet rabbit ring. He's incredibly quiet and adorable. Just like his namesake, Eyebrows, who we "met" after a lot of drunkenness and fries on our previous PDX trip.

I was quite obviously ecstatic to be heading back to nel centro and perhaps, if lucky, to see Eyebrows again - I mean, I was wearing my ring.

We enter the restaurant and let the hostess know her 10 top has arrived. As I'm standing there, turning towards my friends, who have just entered, Eyebrows walks by us. I'm not going to lie to you. After a day of drinking (well, I probably would have done it anyway, but for now let's pretend it's because I was sauced), I start jumping up and down, "HE'S HERE!"

And, yes, poor poor Eyebrows (whose real name is either Paul or Michael, but I prefer my nickname so didn't bother to find out which) had to deal with us all evening. You see, he was our water boy. Mwahahah.

Fortunately (or perhaps more accurately, UNFORTUNATELY), Adan concurred I was absolutely correct: Eyebrows is beautiful. So we seat ourselves, and Eyebrows is pouring our water, and I'm commenting to Adan how very very hot it is outside. Adan agrees. Eyebrows turns towards me with a smile, "It is very warm out here." HE SPEAKS! I almost faint. Adan, not one to be stunned for long, quips, "I don't think it's the temperature." I agree, "Definitely not the temperature making it hot." Adan gets an evil grin, "I think it's your menopause." Me, "I think you're confusing menopause with experience."

Poor, poor, beautifully young, Eyebrows

And it begins, our evil and not so subtle tug of war for Eyebrows attention. Adan kept pouring his water into my glass, which I refused to throw on the ground but instead would quickly try to guzzle. Eyebrows to Adan, "You sure are thirsty." To which our table erupts with laughter.

Eyebrows walks by (he walks by a lot, very attentive that boy) Adan asks loudly, "So, Tracylea, did you get something FOR YOUR DAUGHTER?" "Yes, Adan, yes I did get something for my daughter.

Whilst I excuse myself to the bathroom for about the second or third time, thank you Adan; Adan announces to Eyebrows we're there celebrating my 40th birthday. Ahhhhhh. It was hysterical.

I was pretty sure some of the table was going to explode from embarrassment, but I think Eyebrows enjoyed it.

But let's not forget we were there to eat (and drink more).

Delicious hazelnut crusted goat cheese

The Best Gnocchi I've EVER Had

I HAD to have dessert when I saw cannoli on the menu

And all my treats were accompanied by the amazing Oakshire Espresso Stout

And after three hours of wining and dining and outrageously awkward flirtations we decided we should call it a night.

And thus ends our 12 hour day of drinking.

XOXO

I Heart Portland, Ore., Part III

2011-08-06T15:52:00.003-06:00

After Brew Fest I woke up feeling less than fabulous, but it's a passing phase. I threw on an inappropriately low cut dress (as always), some mascara, and call it "about as good as it's going to get without some sort of cosmetic surgery".

We walk through the early morning and an incredibly gorgeous neighborhood of Victorian houses. We're on a time line, because we have to stop at the store for sustenance as well as catch the 8:27 am Max. As we're walking, we spy a woman scurrying along on the other side of the street. Her pace keeps quickening. We wonder what she's missing. We think maybe church, a doctor's appt. (oh, but it's Sunday, so if it is it isn't something we want to discuss), maybe she, too, is trying to catch the Max; I'm decided she's on the run and clearly with our strut and amazing good looks she knows we're the new Charlie's Angels.

We find the store; I stock up on bready treats, like a giant cheese bagel and vitamin waters. And then we catch the Max. Since we're pretty sure we've maybe grabbed the wrong line, Frances asks a nice lady which is the best point to remove ourselves. She's a slightly spunky lady with grey/yellow hair and tells us she's getting off at "Cooch". Our eyebrows all raise, we didn't know that was an option. I mean, we WERE contemplating the "Couch" stop, but hmmmm, should we attempt "Cooch" so early in the morning. And when she left we giggled, because we're not sure if it's just general PDX lingo to prounce Couch in that manner or if she was just crazy.

But we walk just a couple of blocks and see the Fish Grotto, and ACE hotel (YEA), and Stumptown (where I can finally get a coffee, because the last store only had that Ickily famous brand of coffee which I refuse to drink). We see our group and, of course, I get their attention a block away by yelling, "CA-CAH! CA-CAH!" While Jake and Katie were not at all surprised, I think poor Alan and Lo probably forgot (or maybe never knew) with what they would be dealing!

And then Adan arrived and all bets were off!

(Frances) - Adan and Suzi- (Me)

We boarded our lovely EcoShuttle, and Adan and I immediately head to the very back, whilst a lot of others who I won't name but you can guess all sat in the front. Sheesh. So Adan made a rule you couldn't sit in the same seat twice, because life is more fun with rules.

We talked for a little bit, you know with it being 9 something in the morning, but then we got bored and decided we should probably be drinking wine since it was a wine tour. Alan graced us with his expert pouring skills (we won't mention any spills) and read us the label for Evolution, which sounded a lot like my life.

We reached Sokol Blosser to find they were all ready for us...

ohhh, OUCH! Not the Ducks!

But we'll forgive you because you're giving us wine and that's all we care about...

And they were delicious wines; although I must admit I was a little crushed as one of the servers (damn, is it Ryan or Adam?) poured a tasting and walked way from my out held glass. I maybe teared up (from giggling so hard) and cursed to the heavens that ONCE again a cute man, with alcohol, was walking away from me, and I was even PAYING him to pour for me. Poor guy, I think he might have felt bad if he hadn't been laughing.

Adan is having all of what we're dishing and Jakie *CLEARS THROAT* I mean, JAKEY, is having absolutely nothing of it!

Then onto Erath, for some more yummy wines. Goodness, we're so spoiled.

Thank goodness I was with people, like the Fujishins, who could tell me things about wine because I really have not much of a clue. I know when it is too dry for me, too sweet for me, too NOT what I'm looking for, or just perfectly delicious. But I don't have much of a clue about strawberry overtones (until it's mentioned). But I can usually detect some oak or pepper; other than that, however, I'm not the person you want to be stuck with while wine tasting - unless, of course, you only want to hear about asinine things that have nothing to do with wine, OR YOU want to talk about wine.

And then...

I knew you would be super excited to see my third dragon pose.. except they changed the sign finally. Sad. (First pose & Second.)

And we got to see one of our favourite servers. And Adan decided to LOUDLY ask us if we'd been there before (thanks), so that the server states, "Oh, yes! I remember them. They have been here at least more than twice!" We are pretty loud and obnoxious... wait, maybe that's just me.

And we have a delicious lunch and sit on the grass.. and Adan and I managed to sit in a wet spot. But decided against capturing those moments.

And soon down the mountain to another winery. BUT FIRST, we try to stop at DuPonte and a very long trek of turning around and driving and turning around and driving and turning around and, well, you get the idea.
and our last stop.. but I don't want to talk about it (I liked the other places better)
But soon we're back on the bus and discussing dinner plans. For Nel Centro. I have no idea - until someone mentions it's the restaurant in Modera. WAIT! You mean where Eyebrows works? (scroll to bottom of the post). Why, yes, where Eyebrows works....

To Be Continued
XO

I Heart Portland, Ore., Part II

2011-08-04T12:32:00.000-06:00

And although I had no idea it was also Brew Fest this weekend, after leaving dinner at Por Que No, we had our super PDX resident chauffeur drive us to a parking lot to catch the Max. We walk a bit to the event and pass a really creepy sidewalk loo - not a port-a-potty. It had slants in it and I could see feet inside. I, not oddly, turned my nose up at it and wonder out loud who in the hell would use such a creepy thing...

We get IDs checked and look around hoping to acquire a mug because there are TON of lines and a TON of people. So many people, in fact, we can't see the giant sign pointing us to the ticket/mug tent, but it was fate, because the slightly bleary eyed couple we stop points us towards the tent and hands us their mugs (which are $6 each, and tokens are $1, 1 token = sample, 4 tokens = filled mug) and we are stoked, because only two of us are really going to drink much anyway.

So we get tokens and find our first drink, or, more accurately, get into a giant line of people. And I'm pretty happy because at least I'm in line for a Lompoc.

So what better to do in line (if you don't have a beer) than to take pictures?

And ruminate on the event setup. I'm not a fan. It was congested and crazy and there has to be a better way. SO I juts kept pondering if it were my event how would I do it. But then finally, because Chels is looking at me like I'm crazy and driving her crazy, I shut up about work related things like event logistics.

I'm thinking next year I might have to plan to go to PDX so I can try ALL the beer (and not just five)!

FINALLY!

I was very excited to be in line next for Fearless Scottish Ale - doesn't is sound delicious? Perhaps only because I love most things that are Scottish; unfortunately, it was horrible. Chelsea tried it and I won't repeat what she said it tasted like because even I don't want to be that mean. But it was so bad that I rushed into line for another and found a boy with an empty mug to drink it.

This is Scott. He was the only person within a 4 foot radius with an almost empty mug. So I grabbed him and begged him, "Please drink this. I'm sorry, it's horrible, but I can't just throw it out!" So he chugged it with a bit of a grimace and then we marched up (because this line was much shorter) to try Zombie Flanders from Rock Bottom.

Mine was filled first and I was completely surprised to find this dark brew to be sweet like a cider. The shock showed on my face and Scott's eyes get really wide, "Oh no! Is this one bad, too?!" When I explained it tasted like cider he got really suspicious.. so before he spent his tokens on it I let him have a try (I mean, he did save me moments earlier). We both mulled it over and decided while it wasn't something we would drink on a regular basis it was worth tokens for the evening.

On a very important note: next year I will be wearing a hat.

Next came more lines, because we traversed to another large tent (nearer the music) and met some more lovely people. I got to try Hale's Supergoose IPA (delish) and Elysian's Idiot Savin (not my favourite, but drinkable).

In line for Hale's a tall, good looking gentleman behind me touches my back and says, "Please tell me you live in Portland because I love your work." To which I had to give the disappointing answer that I live in Idaho but I have the best artist around. And then we blathered a few more minutes about how amazing my back art work is. I would like to point out that considering ALL the AMAZING ink that is EVERYWHERE in Portland (and at the Brew Fest, because even I was doing some double takes) it's pretty impressive to have someone ask about your work (way to go Zack)!

After a bit we found a place to copasquat and chill for a bit and after darkness hit we figured we'd probably hit the Max.. and a loo. Yep, the creepy loo. But I had to!!

It was all lit up inside with blue lights, the super weird thing is I couldn't see anything outside, but KNEW everyone could see MY feet.

I'm directionally challenged in Portland. So I didn't think beer would help and figured my job as documentor was much more important. And then we got onto a VERY crowded Max - I would think with brew festers, but only saw one mug other than ours and that was being held by a 4 year old. hmmmmm.

And then we made it home and went to bed so we could go on the Sunday wine tour!

To Be Continued

I Heart Portland, Ore., Part I

2011-08-03T12:32:00.000-06:00

I'm always worried Portland is going to realize how much I love her, and then start get nervous when I think about visiting. But one of the reasons I love her so much is because she's way too cool to get nervous about something like that. Instead of that really crazy girl who is so obsessed I blog about her, I'm just one of millions. Although she will leave me with some great photos, because, you know, she loves her fans.

There is something magical about going to Portland. So magical that before I even arrive I'm suddenly cooler.

I had a couple of work things on Saturday, so I, unfortunately, couldn't make the Friday road trip (Frances, my life-partner of road trips was so upset she floated me the money to buy a plane ticket.. I KNOW - my friends are amazing).

While driving down the freeway to the airport, music blaring, windows down, I can hear Harleys headed my way, and fast. As I brace myself for the thunderous drive by I suddenly realize one of the riders has slowed down to keep pace with me.

Trying to be nonchalant, I turn to look out my window and am faced with an incredibly attractive 40-something in leathers. He's grinning at me. I giggle, shake my head, and turn forward. But that doesn't last long because he yells, "HEY HONEY!" I turn back to him and he finished, "SMILE!" So I flash him a toothy grin, which he returns (with perfect white teeth), nods, and drives on.

Very nice way to start the trip. As usual, I'm hurried through security, they never x-ray me, or ask questions. Must be that silly blank look I get on my face in line, or perhaps they just totally trust Fluffy isn't filled with explosives.

Anyway, I board the plane ready for an hour and 10 minutes of reading "Water for Elephants". I make it 3 pages (very enjoyable book, by the by, really, it's why I packed it and forgot clothes for Monday) and fall asleep. Wake up 45 minutes later when we land.

No baggage so head towards exit, expecting to wait because (I love you) Frances isn't always timely. Instead I get a text saying she and Suzi are awaiting me and she's right in front of me. Except I can't see her. So I stop, in front of the escalators, in front of about 15 people who have to dodge quickly to go around - my vacant smile came in handy here, too, since I didn't mean to be such an ass. I still can't see Frances, so I do what anyone would do in my situation. I give our emergency call, "CA-CAH, CA-CAH!" and look around awaiting the response.

I don't get one, just a lot of very startled expressions. So I catch an escalator and try it again, "CA-CAH! CA-CAH!" So far my bird impression is only getting people to hurry by - anyway, turns out they were in their car on the curb - so much for having an emergency call.

We stop at IKEA (which is why women were created to have multiple orgasms). And then head to Por Que No for dinner.

Chels texts she is able to meet us, so we wait in line, flirting (but subtly, for once) with the hatted gentlemen in front of us. A car drives by and I almost wave at the girl with my hair cut who looks exactly like me. Suzi goes, "Oh! She looks just like you!" Yep, yep she did. But that wasn't Chelsea. In fact, after Chels arrives we decide the girl who drove by looked more like me.

Me & Chels

This completely confirms my long standing belief I'm a clone. Every time I meet someone they go, "OH! You remind me of my best friend from New York {Seattle, Sydney, Toronto, etc}!"

We order delicious food and drinks, find a seat and discuss, oh god.. all sorts of crazy things, like being sisters, and family and how awesome we are!

Suzi, Frances, and Chelsea

And then we get ready to immerse ourselves into BREW FEST.

To Be Continued....

My Homework

2011-07-29T16:28:00.000-06:00

A few weeks ago the universe (and my sister, Chelsea) assigned me some homework: read my journals and look for patterns.

Between family visiting, work, and being sick I didn't get to do anything until recently. My first REAL evening home was just a couple of days ago (Tuesday, to be exact). I contemplated the whole 4 minute drive home whether I had the stamina for acquiring journals and beginning the long trek backwards (and forwards). My mind was made up for me when I checked my mail.

Finding myself almost at the end of my last journal - created by the lovely Lola Nova - I knew I had to have another so I ordered and here it is!

Lola Nova Journal and Shopping Bag

And she added a lovely goodie to go with it! I can't wait to begin filling this lovely, cuddly, fantastical journal with all sorts of things - but I must finish the last one. So the last 10 pages or so have been dedicated to this traversing across space and time of self.

I opened my storage closet, unload 8 heavy bins of china, crystal, silver, Halloween decor, and boxes upon boxes of books I couldn't fit in my apartment (although now that I've seen them again they might be traveling to my bedroom because I miss them so much), and managed to open - just a bit - the hope chest wherein my journals and old letters are stored. It took much cursing and prying to bust the cardboard box out of the chest.. in fact, I had to struggle to keep the chest open with one had and rip the box into pieces so I could pull all the items out.

It seemed fitting that it should be a difficult process. Oh the things I found.. I haven't even looked at the letters yet...

Here they are. From 1994 to date. 17 years of me. 17 years of changing penmanship, skipped words, and lots of nonsensical, delusional blathering.

But patterns are there; within pages of even the most horrible journal ever created (that would be 1994-96, which happens to be 14-16 y/o nonsense) patterns hit me in the face. Patterns that set my teeth on edge.

Somehow I didn't manage to capture any of 1997, but it is a small relief. I'm sure some of the letters are dated that year, and they will haunt me enough. But spring of '98, my senior year, and the year I went to Israel. I finished reading that last night.

I've blurred out anything that might be too embarrassing

For me or others :)

This journal was a college prep. English assignment. It is only from March 1998 - May 1998, so mostly about the Israel trip. I found an unsent letter to Angel from the night before I left. It is four pages and sad. The details in this journal - not always details about what I now wish I had captured - are much more thorough. It brings back moments so clearly I can smell the grass at a track meet and hear the gravel crunch under my feet as I say my farewells; it also brings back that horrible 18-year-old heartache, which turns my stomach.

Soon I'll start reading this journal, which is high school graduation and beginning college. The picture above are things from our Sr. trip to San Francisco.

anyway, it has been decided the first journal - which serves absolutely no point as it is neither interesting nor rich in detail - will be burned at the end of it all. It might be joined by some of the others, perhaps just portions, perhaps in total. And there will be lots of drinking.

But the good news is it truly is helping me identify negative behaviour, fears, obsessions, cycles, and what elements make up my very foundation of self and she be kept safe.

I am a little heart broken and cheered, regretful and hopeful, terrified and entertained.

Sleeping at home

2011-07-25T12:31:00.001-06:00

I actually slept on my own couch last night, rather than my mother's. I love sofa sleeping. It is usually far more peaceful than sleeping on a bed.

In fact, after college, when I lived with Sunny, I didn't have room for all my books AND a bed, so I put my bed in storage and just had my couch. And when I had my own apartment - prior to pseudo-marriage and Aurora - I never slept in my room, but always on the couch. I had the greatest couch. She was named Sweet Pea. Lovely sturdy thing from the 70s with avocado upholstery. I miss her.

My current couch, is not quite so comfy as mom's nor as Sweet Pea, but considering I took my thermostat apart three months ago (the batteries are dead) and I don't use the AC enough to worry about replacing the batteries and it was incredibly hot yesterday and the master bedroom is upstairs and the fan downstairs, well, you can see why I would just drag my pillows and Fluffy to the living room.

Thanks, in part, to Scott Pilgrim vs. the World I dreamt about two exes last night. And I have to admit, it really makes me chuckle. Because after they both walked away (and I was in a room filled with people I didn't know) I threw my hands in the air with a triumphant yelp and screamed, "I just survived the most awkward moment EVER!" and then pointed to the closest person and said, "You are going to make me a trophy." Whoever this dude was totally agreed to it, but he may have just been humouring me because I'm crazy. I woke too soon to see if he really did or not.

More projects..

2011-07-23T16:21:00.000-06:00

Tomorrow is a bit of a work day and last day with Bran and the kids - they'll be leaving Monday morning.

It will also be an off week from Aurora - so I'm envisioning a bit of time to tidy the townhouse (by the by I really should spend enough time in the place to give it a name - the house was "The Burrow" but I have yet to be struck with a nickname for the apartment... hmmmm, add it to the list of things to do next week perhaps), time to spend with Alliwicious Squeakerkins the Second (because she threatens to claw my eyes from my head every time I stop in just long enough to feed her), and laundry. Joy.

But it also means a little bit of time to put in a movie or two and get to work on my return letter to Miss Leonie, to whom I have been wanting to respond quite badly but haven't found a moment; finish up a new lap afghan, which I think I might gift or sell because although it is very pretty it's not really my colors; track down the right book to continue working on the sketchbook project; make some new (owl)ies; AND write in the Moleskin of Enlightenment.

Sounds so simple, but they are things that always seem to fall to the way side with friends visiting, or important social activities. Because Monday night I have a dinner gathering, Tuesday night dinner with a friend from out of town, Wed or Thursday with the besties, Saturday is a going away party and then rushing to the airport to catch a flight to Portland so that I can join in on the Sunday wine tour and then Monday home again.

oh, well, hmmm, that seems to leave me with about two days, doesn't it? le sigh.

Needs Tweaking

2011-07-22T12:47:00.000-06:00

Hmmm, well, it's no wonder I feel such a kinship with Lizzy Bennett. I can do a lot of things, just so many of them not very well - enough to get me by. I used to sketch a lot - and do go through phases where I do a lot in hopes of getting good. But for me I so much prefer words. Which is making the sketchbook project a bit of a daunting task.

But then I realized there are LOTS Of pages in the sketchbook and I am just going to have to dive in and watch it develop and see what is going to work and what isn't. So the first few have been done in Sharpie - because I love sharpies.

I think the next phase... although I still go a little wide eyed at the thought, will be to find some old books (illustrated and not) to tear to shreds and glue onto pages.

So here are the starting pages of the sketchbook - it's okay to giggle. It makes me giggle, too.

What is written in the heart was all free-writing and I really liked how it turned out. But I'm still debating about sharing the text - so I guess, if you are interested, post a comment (with a return email) letting me know and I'll send it your way.

Sometime Around Midnight

2011-07-21T08:30:00.003-06:00

this song rips me open slightly (in that painful way that makes you smile, like the acrid smell of dying roses) - & the video...well, it reminds me of me a bit - with my random scribbles on ripped pages, stuffed inside drawers, books, folders.. and, yes, I've even written on walls.

http://youtu.be/UYPoMjR6-Ao

In 10 Minutes

2011-07-20T18:47:00.001-06:00

Did you forget I was doing the 2012 Sketchbook Project? It's okay. I almost have. Okay, not really. It's sitting right on top of the "Moleskin of Enlightenment" (which I've had for a month, or longer, without much enlightenment & I DESPERATELY need to put my thoughts to words and mail it back into the universe for my sister).

So in order to not confuse them I actually started the cover of the sketchbook. And, yes, I spent about 10 minutes on it - not that you can tell. While I've joined to help keep my creative juices flowing I'm slightly stumped just because I don't draw all that much any more. I'm much more word driven, so you can imagine it will probably be MOSTLY word focused, but I'll definitely do some sketches.

In order to help re-activate my brain I found this lovely ABBA montage which is 10 minutes long.. what can you do while this plays?

Except, as much as I adore ABBA - I mean, it's in my blood, I think I have to, right? I'm not really in the mood, so instead I think I'll take inspiration from the music of my soul:

Ahhhhhh, like slipping into a hot bath.

Mommy Dearest

2011-07-20T03:36:00.000-06:00

I have been driving my sister insane with my hacking and gacking. It's quite annoying to me as well, and I have given her full permission, on this sick day I have chosen to spend in her presence to murder me and save us both from going further into insanity.

Mom arrived home a bit earlier (as we are all camping out at my mom's whilst Brandy and the kids are here - my poor little townhouse and kitty only see me on the rarest of occasions for food and to pick up clothes). And she instantly made me hot water, whiskey, and honey - I should be three sheets to the wind any moment since I am half way through the giant mug of hot whiskey.

But my oh my, is Jack delicious! I know I blather on and on about Jose (and I do love him, he's the one that beats me up but I forgive him in the morning when I don't hurt anymore), but Jack Daniels was my first love. In fact, I once drank a fifth straight (it was a poorly planned high school party wherein we forgot the soda).

Mom also tracked down some allergy medicine for me - the littlest tiny pills you have ever seen, and with my metabolism I normally take double or triple the recommended dosage, but with a steaming cup o' whiskey in my hand I decided one new pill might be the best; moments later she walks into the library. I'm only half listening as I'm doing something very important (which may or may not have involved Facebook). But I'm looking at her and as I'm nodding yes, suddenly the words register and I point to the bottle of NEW pills she is holding.

"Excuse me, just to make sure I'm understanding. Did you just say, 'When I went to the vet's to get Boo's arthritis medicine'?" (Boo being her yellow lab). "So you're giving me DOG MEDICINE?"

Fortunately, they actually prescribed PEOPLE medicine for Boo's joint pain and when she bought a certain amount they also (Oddly) threw in a homeopathic bottle of "Heel BHI: Bronchitis" - she's SWEARING it is for people, but just in case I display more dog like behaviour than normal, you can blame her (or the whiskey).

In the Middle of Summer

2011-07-19T11:05:00.000-06:00

I find myself in this odd position of dealing with allergies. What I thought was a cold (three weeks ago), that was merely annoying because I was trying to work, seems to linger like a semi-attractive creepster in a coffee shop - you know the kind, you can't help but notice their semi-attractiveness because they won't stop staring, but then you realize they really won't stop staring and you smile, with a nod, and a "you might be crazy" look in your eye, but it doesn't deter them? That's what it like. And the more time I spend outside the worse it gets. So I'm beginning to become convinced that after 31 years I have finally developed allergies.

Sunday we got up at an obnoxious hour (only obnoxious because I'm exhausted) and got the kids ready and headed a few hours into the woods - well, okay, McCall (which you might remember from this HIGHLY Edited post). Aurora, true to family form, asked before we left, "Mom, will there be cute boys there?" My reply, "There are cute boys everywhere, so I'm sure there are." "Oh good, we should look at them, okay?"

Well, we arrived at the very same time as a lovely shirtless tattooed boy and his two dogs, but unfortunately, he left a short while later - the rest of the day the only cute boys were too young (even for me).

Except for a unbelievably strong gust of wind most of the afternoon, it was perfect.

(Stella Bella)

(Aurora Grace)

(Zene & Jax)

Lots of lazing about - I picked up another swimsuit, so now have about 7 different tan lines - by the by, a philosophical question: do you wear bikini bottoms under board shorts or are board shorts the bottoms? Just curious, although it's a bit too late, and I'm not really about to wear that much clothing out in the sun.

Yesterday was the Idaho Shakespeare Festival Gala - and what with special events kinda being my thing - I eagerly accepted a friend's invitation to volunteer. It was a lovely evening (although melty hot) for a garden party and FYN, Piper, and I rocked the raffle sales. We also enjoyed dressing up in some props (look forward to a mustachioed pirate picture of me - because when can I resist a mustachio?).

Unfortunately, spending two days out of doors basically murdered me and I am now having trouble breathing at all, and I've reached the point of my stomach muscles being sore from coughing so much. Blech.

So today I am looking forward to doing a whole lot of nothing except drinking some cold medicine, crocheting and enjoying kid snuggles.

Looking for the appropriate moment

2011-07-15T12:25:00.000-06:00

to shatter. Into a billion pieces. Okay, maybe not a billion pieces - maybe just 100. 100 seems like a solid number for stitching everything back together, right? Because imagining a billion pieces makes me think of becoming a crispified vampyre and someone would sneeze and I would just float off on the breeze; or worse, I'd crumble and people would just walk through a pile of dust and I'd get stuck in parking lots and onto no longer attractive "welcome" mats.

Of course, maybe my fear of being a billion pieces is actually the whole problem in the first place. I don't like breaking. I'm emotionally unstable about all sorts of things. Like characters in books and battery advertisements. I spent a lot of last night's HP premiere trying not to sob out loud - which just meant a lot of shaking, sniffling and mouth breathing. Creepy, right?

But I'm at some sort of capacity. Like I've been broken in places so long I've just hardened the rest of me. And now I'm stuck. I think I'm missing out on a lot of things. I spend so much time creating realities that I want to try, but they don't ever come to fruition because I cannot allow myself to let go. I cannot let myself break, because god forbid if I don't know what the hell is going to happen next or let someone else have a say in any piece of me.

I'm not even sure how to go about letting it happen.

If I'm open to the possibility will pieces begin peeling away naturally allowing me to study each individually as it floats to the floor?

Will some inner thing inside me chip through the layers to the outside until I am nothing but heart and mind willing pieces to take some new form?

Or will it take me finally allowing the universe to send someone along who can blow me apart with a mere shared thought and a kiss?

Even in letting go I am wanting control. Looking at calendars. When can I let everything just go to shite, just in case that's what happens? Next week? Ten days? A month? Do you think the universe takes kindly to such parameters? I think she chuckles. Much like I do at her signs. We recognize each other, even if we do not always see eye to eye.

I do know if it doesn't happen soon it might not ever happen. And ... well, I don't want to imagine a life stuck with an inability to love and be loved.

Magus

2011-07-14T08:23:00.000-06:00

Summer is in full swing. Conferences are in full swing, which also means we’re halfway done. Family time abounds.

Brandy and the kids came to visit; as did Chelsea. Full house at mom’s. The universe, as it usually does, aligned to surprise us. Chelsea arrived on a Friday evening, rather than the anticipated Sunday. We were all slightly bemoaning the fact we had to wait four days for Aurora to join the melee (as she was camping with her father), when my phone rang and Eddie was on the other end saying they were headed home and did I want A as soon as possible. Yes, please.

So began days in the sun with lots of water and sliding. Even the neighbor kids, Ashton and Jayden AKA Boo, got to join in the general wet loudness. We had a bit of a block party for the Fourth (as mom lives in a cul de sac) and Eddie joined us for parts. Aurora was slightly concerned about the fireworks (having recently sustained scars when a bottle rocket almost took out her eye), which forced me to be calm (since I hate fireworks).

I have been fighting a cold? Allergies? I don’t know, maybe just general exhaustion which is forcing me to feel ill? Either way there were some miserable nights wherein I thought the household would murder me because of my wracking coughs renting the night apart.

I am slightly better – I’m hoping to get a couple of days of sleep to help soon.

One night I took Stella and A to see “Monte Carlo”. I was incredibly apprehensive, but it turned out to be an adorable movie filled with accented adorable boys (just my style), so I was perfectly content. The next night I had a hot date with Zene to see “Cars 2”. I have been excited to see it, but was bouncing off the walls when I discovered my favourite singer, Robbie Williams, was the better half of a duet for the theme song (I promise not to go into my usual obsessed love rants about RW).

Stella, A, and I also went to a minor league baseball game, wherein we accidently (must have been just natural radar) sat next to the visiting team. I thought poor Stella was going to die from mortification when Aurora loudly began pointing out the cute boys (two inches from us). I don’t think it helped when I announced that they most likely felt safe from the likes of me as they were protected by the thin mesh fencing between us. I’m sure they felt much less safe at that point, but then I make all boys feel that way.

Chelsea did a lovely tarot reading for me. As usual it made me laugh in that “damn you, universe, how I love you” sort of way. It was along my normal lines of signs, such as Failure (like, look at all the pretty things I collect and then let fall away forgotten because I’m too scared), the Moon (always always always, how the moon and the night journey are always in the forefront), the hardened Queen, the hard yet vulnerable Emperor, and the Magus.

The Magus. How I laughed out loud with my snort of, “Of course.” I can and must create my own path, and move forward and balance and conjure what I truly desire because the universe will provide. She’s only too willing… if I don’t give into fear, if I don’t forget that I am a creator.

So I’ve been given two assignments that I plan on beginning next week.

Part 1: root out my old journals and read them, look for patterns (good and bad) and work on removing negative patterns from life

Part 2: WRITE my story. Just how I want it. Out into the universe goes the big dream.

Perhaps this will help me figure out what I really do want!

crzylady contest!

2011-07-01T11:09:00.000-06:00

You know you've missed me..

CONTEST! You can win a custom (owl)ie! Ways to enter -

1 entry for Favoriting "crzylady.etsy.com" (just comment/post with your etsy name)
1 entry for commenting or posting which is your favourite item currently in shop
5 entries for commenting or posting a new (owl)ie idea (each idea gets you 5 points)
............
open until July 3rd! Winner posted on July 4th!

And incase you want the MOST chances to win.. we currently have someone with 27 points!! so better get to posting on your ideal (Owl)ies!

"Jester's Dead!"

2011-06-16T08:52:00.000-06:00

Went to see X-Men: First Class. I was, for once, pleased with the movie. It only took them four.. X-Men III and Wolverine: Origins being HUGE disappointments and the first two were just okay.

Of course, I am easily distracted by attractive men. Incredibly attractive men (and a few margaritas), so perhaps I am biased.

They cast the characters well (although I wouldn't have minded a harsher Mystique, but as her vulnerability was mostly the point I should probably just stuff it). I have never been a huge fan of Magneto, even with his heart wrenching background and Ian McKellan of whom I AM a huge fan, I think, however, I must blame this on my undying love for Charles Xavier. But Michael Fassbender as Magneto. Perfection (as Magneto would say).

James McAvoy made for a believable X - all that charm and wit and those blue eyes. You see, completely distracted. And they even put in a ginger for me. WOOT for Banshee (played by Caleb Landry Jones)!

I was surprised to see Kevin Bacon - what with not having my telly hooked up to anything except my DVD player I am quite in the dark about most things in the world. I didn't know there even WAS an X-Men: First Class until my darling Robbie's FB posted Take That's video for "Love Love".

No offense to any Take That fans out there.. but the only reason I put up with them is that is how I first discovered Robbie existed - with the release of their huge hit "Back for Good" and the first moment I saw the video I almost fainted over that chap in the large fur coat and sunglasses. I had to know who he was. Well, he turned out to be Robbie Williams, born February 13th (imagine that.. a shared birthday) and he soon lit out on his own and.. to all the other wankers in Take That (I mean, well, you know, glad you're all back together if it means Robbie's still performing) doesn't it just drive you crazy how old you've all gotten and Robbie is still as stunning as ever? And a better singer and dancer..

okay, sorry, back to X-Men and where was I? Oh, yes, Kevin Bacon. Wow-he was impressive in this. I was not at all imagining him as any of the bazillion other characters he's played, but only Shaw, and the horrible horrible man he was! So kudos to Bacon!

Special effects were well done and not distracting for the most part, at least until Banshee and Angel have at it, at which point I thought, "Oh, here we go again, they've pushed it too far and now it's just annoying." But, being a comic movie I think they feel they haven't done their job if there isn't an over done scene with bad graphics.

Oliver Platt was a pleasant surprise and I admit I clapped my hands excitedly and squeed, "I love you Oliver!" when he appeared on screen. Yea, you probably don't want to go to a movie with me...

unless you find me less annoying than the guy with his cellphone, texting through the first hour of the movie. Because then you WOULD want to go with me because I leaned over to Angel and said, "I'm really sorry I can't take it anymore, the light is very distracting... HEY DUDE, PUT YOUR PHONE AWAY!" And five seconds later he left the theatre. Another five seconds and his wife followed. They never returned.

The boy who played Hank was a doll, but I must admit I have always loved Beast as Beast and was disappointed we did not get to see him in all his blue splendor for very much of the film (yes, along with accented men, men who are boys too young for me, men who are MEN and too old for me, nerds, and gingers, I ALSO very much always fall for the "monsters").

When X-Men: First Class shows up in the cheap seats I am sure I will see it at least once or twice more and enjoy the beauty of men struggling with their strengths and weakness who aren't afraid to cry.

PS: I can't help it. EVERYTIME I see Michael Ironside I have to say it, "Ah-ha! Jester's dead!"

Sure, Ur Nuts.

2011-06-10T10:43:00.002-06:00

But it's summer, so it's a bit more acceptable to run around with as little clothing as possible, throwing a frisbee, and vehemently yelling about the best place to strike a zombie with a disc (with the understanding that plastic disc is only for practice, when the zombies really arrive you'd best grab the specialty metal disc you custom ordered).

We're still hit and miss with sun and warmth this June in Idaho, but we're soaking up as much vitamin D as we can whenever we can. So there are lots of afternoons and evenings spent with a blanket in the lawn, doors open (so Alley Squeakerins can timidly explore the 3 foot radius around the house), some music playing (Amos Lee tends to be thrown on repeat most often right now), a book (or books) if I'm alone or frisbee (if Aurora is with me), and sunscreen.

We've been heading to the park - there is a little jungle gym just a few blocks from us which we've been walking to (but the crowd is a bit rough there and I have a hard time handling my range of emotions from outright laughter, to trying to pretend I didn't hear, to motherly concern while listening to children discuss why the crawl through says "My penis was here!" and "Yummy" and other unsavory topics for my daughter to hear). And if we think about it early enough (say 5 pm instead of 7 pm) we go to the magically large and desirable Settlers Park (about 20 minutes from us) and eagerly anticipate the weather turning warm enough for the water features to start working.

With real school officially over and Aurora graduating from Kindergarten ....

I've been letting her stay up later (I know, I'll regret it later I'm sure) but there are just SO many activities to pack into a summer evening!

I have more (owl)ie projects to get to work soon - a crochet (owl)ie inspired by Aurora that I'm still trying to work out the best approach in my head (since I can't do MUCH pattern making as I've never learned to do fancy hooking).

A couple of concerts (Ray LaMontagne and Steve Martin's bluegrass group) and some Shakespeare Festival coming up on the calendar (I want to take Aurora to see Cabaret; it's a serious subject matter, but I know she'll love the dancing).

And, of course, the FAMILY is coming (Brandy and the kids, and Chelsea all descending at some point this summer), so we'll have lots of margaritas and water sliding and birthday celebrations and movies and rollerskating/blading (yes, even I'm going to attempt blading).

AND the last Harry Potter. I think it might kill me. But we won't think too much on that for now.
I hope you are enjoying your season as much as we are!

xoxo

Rapture Looting

2011-05-19T12:56:00.000-06:00

I have just had one of the most entertaining lunch hours ever. This is brilliant and HIGHLY HYSTERICAL...

I'm inviting all of you - in case no one else has.

Post Rapture Looting

We Heart Vampyres

2011-05-16T17:17:00.001-06:00

Not really shocking news, is it.
Last week ended with a fabulous little event with Chris Farnsworth. Yes, The President's Vampire, the much anticipated sequel to Blood Oath, was released April 28th.

I am lucky enough to be a fellow alum and last year was able to meet Chris at an event for his first novel. I was ecstatic to hear then of the sequel (and EVEN more so at his stating there could be 10 books)!

If you haven't picked them up and are looking for intriguing action-filled fiction (especially in the undead or political realm) I highly recommend you begin the Nathaniel Cade series.

It is always a delight to get to do things you love with people you love! So, yes, please, to dinner and margaritas with a fabulous author who happens to write about the undead.

Aurora and I put on some pretties and headed into the big city.

(Michal, Aurora and I)

I am, as ever, slightly on guard that supportive endeavors can seem stalkerish - I mean, I am a fangirl. Always will be, I just don't want to be one of the scary ones. While happy to say hi and help if possible, and get my book signed (and take pictures), I didn't get a picture of me with Chris. Oh well, these will have to do.

(Chris reading his first chapter)

(Front row seating provided by Aurora who RAN to the front. I had to actually ask the people to move over because she had picked a spot with only one seat. Fangirl in the making.)

(obligatory mommy-daughter shot)

(Aurora insisted she give Chris the book and I was a mere afterthought as she said,

"Aurora. Oh, and ... my mom.")

Aurora spent the next day pretending Cade killed our passenger seat belt, or her evil ponies, and had all sorts of interesting questions.

Like, since Cade is a good vampire he doesn't eat people right? No, he doesn't, but he does kill bad guys human or monster.

But he could eat another vampire if he wanted right? Well, yes, I suppose he could do that.

So Cade could bite us if he wanted because we're vampires? Yes, if you look at it that way, he could.

If a vampire bites another vampire does that vampire become a zombie? Oh! Well, isn't that a pretty piece of reasoning; I can see how that might happen.

And don't you worry. There is a tiny amount of concern wrapped up in my undead mommy pride.

The Theme

2011-04-29T12:57:00.000-06:00

My Sketchbook Project theme has been picked. And, oddly, it is not at all what I thought it would be. I bet it isn't what you thought it would be either.

In 10 Minutes

Don't you worry. I'm sure there is still plenty of melodramatic, love forlorn, fantastical obsessions, and all other manner of crzylady quirks to be got into 10 minutes.

unfortunately, I can't get the bloody checkout at sketchbook to take my payment... so I will not be getting it as soon as I would like, but I'm going to try again next week.

I am awaiting all sorts of goodies in the mail: the first two Darren Shan "Cirque du Freak" books, the moleskin of enlightenment from the younger sister, a surprise prize from the older sister, my copy of the newly released "The President's Vampire" by the altogether great author, Chris Farnsworth (who you might remember from this lovely weekend), AND the FREE President's Vampire Tee Chris is sending out to those of us who bought his book yesterday (WOOT).

Aren't I super lucky?!

And to think, I made this post..... in 10 minutes.

Creativity is Calling!

2011-04-22T16:14:00.001-06:00

The lovely Kylie at Chasing Purple Dreams introduced me to the Sketchbook Project last year. It is intensely amazing. A little sketchbook for you to fill and then it goes traveling about the world...for people to see!

I wanted to do it, but chickened out. This year, I think it is just what I need to helpful my self-education.

they have amazing themes. I'm starting to narrow them down.

I remember you
~~the last of the people I know~~
~~In fifty years~~
Ask me how I can help
Sandwich
~~The first ever...~~
Hope
In 10 minutes
~~Along the line~~
~~Grey side of life~~
Fill me with stories
Things found under seats
Untitled
The companion books
~~Transatlantic~~
Travel with me
Forever in a nutshell
~~Disasters~~
This is a sketchbook
The worst story ever told
~~Fears and tears~~
~~It's summer where you are~~
~~It's winter where you are~~
~~Nothing new~~
Time traveler
Opposite Day
~~Uncharted waters~~
Life underground
~~Monochromatic~~
Long trips & short phone calls
Encyclopedia of
~~Prehistoric~~
~~Sandwich~~ (no idea why there are two)
Writing on the wall
A path through the trees
Stitches & folds
~~Heroes & villains~~
Treehouse
~~Forks & spoons~~
~~Waterslides I never rode~~

The ones crossed out are not because I don't think they could amazing.. I can't wait to see some forks & spoons (especially those filled with vampyres and werewolves), but they don't really call to me.

I still have a lot of dreaming to do before I decide. Expect the answer sometime next week. I hope you'll consider joining the project as well.

In the Interim

2011-04-20T17:00:00.000-06:00

Transitions (and, boy oh boy, I am really starting to see that this process will never end) takes it toll. There are days filled with creativity - and not in the ways one would think - but more so, right now, I feel like I need a little hibernation. I am incredibly tired, a lot. I feel like a Caterpillar wrapping myself quietly and safely in my cocoon while I process all the things I'm learning about enjoying or struggling with about myself.

So in the interim of energetic bursts the following things are in the air:

writing. not blogging, but really writing on scraps of paper, in journals, on letters.
preparing to write. do you get bursts of inspiration when you're doing something else? And there are moments to hastily grab pen and paper and throw all the thoughts down, incomplete, in another language, with obscenity, with scribbles and punctuation errors. And then there are the moments the ideas are coming at a languid learning pace, just tickling you with the idea of an Epiphany but it is too private and unfinished and almost unbelievable to put to the world in something so concrete as letters conjoined.
letting go of self-created moments of emotion. I know, and have probably always known, I thrive on emotion. Lots of them; so i make them up when i find them lacking. I wonder if this "Just being" moment in my life is also connected to my tiredness. It is an interesting theory, which is why I haven't felt too much need to kick myself back into high gear (although there are twitches when I miss it).
understanding my eccentricities. I am torn, currently, between being perfectly content with my loves in life, because they make me happy, and being melancholy about my expectations from life because of those loves. If I were less than what I am (less dramatic, less emotional, less costumey, less brash, less emphatic, less demanding, less verbose, less loud) would I be able to settle for quiet and nice anything? Instead I want the extraordinary. Seems awfully presumptuous. It also seems unattainable.
back to exercising. took a terrible plunge into too busy for activity. my lungs (and those cigarettes) aren't happy with me right now.
remembering that some things are just true. like my impatience for cooking. i don't enjoy it - at least not unless someone else is cooking and I can help. on my own it is a disaster. not always in the fire department sense, but usually in the non-edible/presentable sense.
reading. lots of reading. new things even! Gabrielle Hamilton (wonderful writer, although she does end a lot of sentences with prepositions but I think it was purposefully to bug me), Neil Strauss (read The Game), just ordered the first two Darren Shan Cirque du Freak books (because the Vampire's Assistant with the ever wonderful John C. Reilly was great).

I have no idea where I am going right now, and I'm sorta okay with that.

Returned

2011-04-06T20:49:00.000-06:00

You have just witnessed what happens when the Universe uses forgetfulness and impatience to help with the transformation process. Yes, a bit of an absence – and in the middle of the Portland story. Well, this is life.

We continued from an amazing (and by amazing I mean jaw dropping, eye rolling, exclamation making) breakfast to head to wine country. We had to stop at the popular White Rose, where we reenacted my dragon pose.

But then I had to go to the bathroom. And it was quite a process. This lovely little box of a building. It is a bit like a vault from the door perspective and after struggling with the giant floor lock I turned to find lots of pretty sinks and decor. I almost set my purse in the bath – fortunately I didn’t because a few moments later Frances told me how interesting she thought the urinal was. WHAAAA?

And it got a bit cold and drizzly on that hill, so we had to dance about. And then I turned to see a hill with giant vats. WINE! I couldn’t resist. I’m sorry.

White Rose was packed so we did not get in enjoy private time with the attractive and heavily accented server (who treated us to an extra little taste last time). I was also disappointed to find the cute Asian group milling about was actually just a bunch of Americans.

Down the hill a bit to Du Ponte. With a delicious Melon (pronounced Ma-loan) wine. And the server put up with our craziness with such grace. Especially when one of exclaimed how much we didn’t like “it” – and he thought perhaps we meant the wine. We did not. Bottles were actually purchased. It was lovely. And then we played outside a bit because the sun was breaking through. And because the wind wouldn’t cooperate with our efforts to hang the camera from a hook for a group picture a nice gentleman was picked out from the tasting room to capture this wonderful moment.

And then to SHOPPING. Cupcake Couture, in McMinnville.. and really the big reason I wanted to go back became a whirlwind of attractive women putting on a fashion show. Unfortunately, Samantha, the adorable and smart owner, wasn’t around, but we left our love. And I know we’ll be back.

Now for more food from the great McMenamin’s in the Oregon Hotel (yes the one with the painting Frances hates, Mulder in the bath, but is one of my favourites I’ve ever seen in my entire life). And beer was to be had and trying to track down appropriate men (preferably hot and unsuspecting) for eye entertainment. Only a couple and they were smoking on the balcony and it was too cold and windy for me to brave it.

Back to the car on to our way for girlie mani/pedis with some of Frances friends. I’m the one with the Hunter Orange polish (thank you, Katie, for the amazing color pick, I can’t wait to get some for my personal use).

And then to a martini bar and more food like yummy Parmesan fries. Mmmmm.

And another bar and a few more drinks and then to the hotel and more food and drinks. Now, I could have done without the extra food, but my oh my the most deliciously too young bus boy was working. You know, the dashing kind that make you think of fox hunting and Burberry advertisements. With the most glorious eyebrows I have ever seen. He didn’t dare make eye contact with our group of voracious (and lecherous, thanks to me) women, but it didn’t stop him from hanging out on our side of the bar and chuckle at our conversation. I named him “Eyebrows”, which is now also the name of my new pet.

so MWAH! I'll fill you in on Spring Break with Aurora soon!

Wild Abandon in Oregon

2011-03-22T17:00:00.000-06:00

We decided, on our way home from Portland, that Oregon should change its state motto to "The State of Wild Abandon". However, Oregon, already knows this and in 1987 made their state motto "Alis Volat Propiis" - "She Flies With Her Own Wings". She does indeed.

Aside from late night heart attacks (missed phone calls at 3:15 am and very little sleep trying to find out if Aurora or Eddie were hurt - they weren't, it was only a phone roll over) and the occasional work interruption, we started our day just right. We decided that deciding upon a breakfast location was just too difficult. We took Oregon up on her vibe and drove to Belmont St and when we saw the small sandwich board stating "Wild Abandon" we knew we'd found it!

It is a cozy little place with lots of lovely lights. You'll know it when you see it because all the stars hang out there!

The woman serving was a delight and as she sat us she exclaimed she had the perfect spot for such lovely smelling ladies. And we admitted most of us had showered just for her. I would have taken her with us, but she had a squirrel on her shirt.

The menu is yummy, but we managed to narrow it down. We didn't take any pictures of the food because we were all too busy having an orgasmic experience to stop eating.

We ordered the Dulce de Leche (Yummy), coffee, some of us started the day with mimosas to break in the long day of drinking proper, the Enchilada Fritta, the Pulled Pork Hash, Eggs Benny and The Wallace and Gromelet (goat cheese and Parmesan) and the most delicious biscuits and then tomato, basil and Parmesan scone. My mouth is watering just imaging it all again.

(Emma & Frances)

(Emma & Katie beginning the all important sunglasses sharing)

(Isn't it amazing? I want to go back and have more brunch and lunch and dinner and dessert!)

I think I should live with Wild Abandon more often.

Here We Go Again

2011-03-18T12:28:00.000-06:00

Just a week over our year anniversary to the most magical road trip ever. We've had other fabulous road trips, to be sure, but the first amazing one to PDX changed my life forever and ever.

And this weekend we are headed back. It is sure to be different. We are in different places in our lives and traveling with different people, but after the amazing anniversary celebration of the second weekend in March the universe gave me, I'm anticipating this to be just what I need: carefree girl time. Most of you know, or can guess, it involves a lot of telling stories about the supernatural, reading horoscopes, reading tarot, talking about all sorts of things Cosmo tells us and whether or not we've tried them and liked them and how to improve them, lots of changing of playlists and singing, and occasionally talking about boys (except this is best saved for when drinks are readily available).

I hope to see a couple of friends, at least for a few moments, since last time (in November) that didn't really end up happening. Oh, and let's not forget the wine and the beer. And maybe see if there are any more moths out and about and how they compare to our local variety.

Hope to have some fun updates for you, since we all know about these curious little adventures in which we sometimes find ourselves.

Irrational

2011-03-14T12:37:00.000-06:00

I find it only fitting after the sheer insanity of the weekend that we find ourselves celebrating Pi! Woot for being irrational - it is one of my favourite things to do (along with being delusion).

Choo Choo made the amazing shrinky dink accessories.. a Pi brooch and two pi earrings, one white and one black, plus a flower earring since I rarely wear matching earrings anymore. Why? Because I'm irrational. Or, as Hannah and I proved on our night out Friday, "I'm a single adult woman and I can do whatever I want." And boy oh boy was that a fun motto!

If I look slightly like death warmed over, it's because of the wonderful shenanigans that ensued due to the cosmic collision of the following: Friday date night with hottie Hannah, Saturday International Fanny Pack Day AND international costume themed birthday party, followed up by Sunday's day long movie shoot for Zack's new film. Yes, world, that IS a whole lot of drinking and flirting. Two things which I do incredibly well.

OMG LOOK! Irrational VamPIres!!!!!!!!!

Yes, my brain just imploded with the awesomeness of it.

Go do something irrational; you're sure to get a kick out of the results!

Written Words

2011-03-07T12:36:00.000-07:00

The Impossible Task

2011-02-23T18:24:00.000-07:00

The impossible task is not what you thinking. I am not Sisyphus.

My impossible task involves expressing my gratitude enough for the amazing life I lead.

On a regular basis I get to spend time with family (although I miss my far ones). And so much time with other loved ones.

Just this month I have gotten birthday bash after birthday bash from the Aquarian Coup, to ice skating, and dinner at my favourite restaurant, The Hollow, plus a great play I've been wanting to see (Norway by Sam D. Hunter - new).

Then there was the fairly impromptu Nacho Beer Birthday Bash (with color coordinated dessert table) and dinner and flowers from one of my oldest friends.

I have friends who drag me out to jog, drag me out to drink, drag me out with Aurora..and, of course, by drag I actually mean "pressure me to do things that are good for me."

When I am less than stellar I get goodies like CDs taped to my door when I return home late from work. And this CD is labeled "Stress Relief" and contains amazing songs like "Forget You", "Poker Face", "So Bad". And gift certificates for pizza. And office stops with gifts of knee high socks in an owlie bag. The check in phone calls and emails to just make sure I don't need a coffee or a walk.

And there are people I don't know who are nice like a gentleman at the gas station who so thoughtfully didn't charge me for my coffee refill.. and the lady in the cafe the other day who did the same (I must look in desperate need of coffee a lot).
And someday I hope to be able to repay every single kindness. It's an added goal. And if you are reading this you are most likely someone who has brightened my life. Thank you!

Because there is love in the world that is perfect

2011-02-14T13:07:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I turned 31.

It seems miraculous all the changes I have seen since my 30th. I got serious about my self for the first time ever.

Seems odd for someone so ego-centric, but only in the past year have I realized that THIS is my life. And I am the only one responsible for all the things therein contained. So I geared up for the adventure of my life.

Shortly after turning 30, I, with sadness, ended a very important (but unhappy) relationship and deal with the consequences every single day. Aurora has yet to forgive me. And I won't pretend that doesn't crush my soul. I try to explain to her honestly that I made hard choices so we could have a happy life, and she, with her own brutual honesty, tells me she was happier before.

It terrifies me, because I have been in her shoes. There is only one option. I will take her tears and accusations and hold out for the dawn. Her happiness is at stake. Sometime when she is old enough to understand I want both of us to hold up a mirror and be able to say this scary adventure I've set course for was all worth it.

There are almost ancient familial patterns to break; patterns that are angry and passive-aggressive and scared of honesty and self-awareness. I refuse to live that way any longer and the only way I know how to keep Aurora from repeating patterns is to break with them so completely there is no chance to copy them.

We are looking for adventures. We are testing the waters, and oh god is it filled with sharks. Fortunately, although terrified of pain, we love sharks, so we carry on.

We have put on our best frocks and, sometimes masks, road-tripped, said yes when we usually would have said no, danced in public singing our own songs, made our own toys and crafted to our hearts content, and we have said no when we usually would have said yes.

We are looking for more adventures and more adventurers. We hope you'll join us.

Happiness / hit her / like a train on a tra-ck
Coming towards her / stuck still / no turning ba-ck
She hid around corners / and she hid under beds /
She killed it with kisses and from it she fl-ed /
With e-very bubble she sank with a drink /
And wa-shed it away down the kitchen sink.
The dog days are over
The dog days are done
The horses are comin' so you better run

Run fast for your mother; run fast for your father /
Run for your children all your sisters and brothers /
Leave all your love and your longing behind.
You can't carry it with you / if you want to survive

The dog days are ove-r /
The dog days are do~ne /
Can you hear the horse-s/
'Cos here they come

And I- never wanted /
anything from yo-u /
Except /
e-verything / you had
And / what was left after that too / Oh!

Happiness / hit her / like a bullet in the ba-ck
Struck from /a great height
By someone /who should have known be-tte-r / than tha-t
The dog days are ove-r /
The dog days are do~ne /
Can you hear the horses /
'Cos here they co-me

Run fast for your mother / run fast for your father
Run for your children all your sisters and brothers
Leave all your love and your longing behind
You can't carry it with you / if you want to survive

Burlesque

2011-02-12T14:32:00.000-07:00

After a slightly excruciating physical therapy appointment (which went long because they added more exercises to my routine) I made it to the big city (late... I know. Me. late instead of 15 minutes early. I'm pretty sure Frances' lackadaisical time keeping is wearing off on me). Enjoyed a couple of beers with an acquaintance and headed over to the Visual Arts Collective to enjoy "Time Machine", a burlesque show.

The line was very long and it was freezing outside. Fortunately, there were friendly people in line with us to chat a bit. I felt incredibly horrible for the young lady in stockings and pasties (and that's a long A, although come to think of it, a hot pumpkin pasty would have been delicious) running around telling everyone they had oversold and there would be standing room only. I think perhaps if you are running around in a crowd almost nude the adrenaline helps keep you warm. It was starting to keep us a bit warm.

And then there was a very persnickety man bitching about how everyone who had already bought a ticket shouldn't have to wait in the cold. It was quite grating and I wanted him to drink more and speak less. There was also a couple of boys in a truck who pulled up and yelled to the giant line of people, "Is something going on here?"

The crowd was only half what I expected. Attractive 20-30 year-olds in sexy fishnet stockings and red lipstick or in black caps and leather wrist bands. And then a lot of older people, which kinda weirded me out, but it shouldn't really because I'm sure I'll still enjoy doing such things in 20-40 years.

We found seats next to a group of people we had spoken to briefly during our drinks at the bar... Dave, Amanda, LeAnn and Charlie. I sat next to Dave, who was uber-friendly. We shared beer and quips about the performances.

I also discovered, during intermission, that the men's bathroom seemed much cleaner (not that the women's wasn't clean, because it was) in comparison to other restrooms. Also, the men in there were all very courteous. One was so kind as to allow me use of his stall after he was done, which I thought was very nice way of handling the fact I walked into the bathroom with men using the urinals and the stalls with the doors all open. He chatted with me about how he would normally put the seat down but wanted to make sure all the ladies using the restroom that evening knew he had not peed on the seat. And then he waited for me to finish so he could direct me which paper towel dispenser still had towels in it. I didn't catch his name, and now I feel bad about it.

The show was great. Very talented women. I can't even imagine what it would be like to have some of the muscles they do. But it certainly helps keep me exercise oriented, since they were very lovely to watch. There was pole dancing, hoola huping (one of my favourite), dancing robots, robe and sash climbing, silly strip teases, and hot belly dancing. All one could want in a burlesque really.

Has me super geared up for Idaho Shakespeare Festival's rendition of "Cabaret" this season (one of my favourite musicals).

My Creative Space

2011-02-10T19:07:00.002-07:00

This evening's work break brought to you by Kirsty!

Here is some of the mess created in my office by creating!

My desk tonight is a bit messy. The ever present Gala binder to my left and some beverages in front. I'm spoiling myself with the left over of Frances' lunch soda and that's actually water (it was coffee until about three hours ago). And, of course, a desktop wall paper to get me through any stressful moments that might arise. WOOT MULDER AND SCULLY.

Sorry about that. Little delirious.

Some other fun things are

The paddles all over the floor have nothing to do with any of my work. Debi is the master mind behind those and Seth and Frances and lots of others have been putting together hundreds of them. The background is items that will soon need to be displayed prettily at the Gala or Day at the Capitol and my desk is covered in what will sometime soon be finished table numbers.

Yep. This is what we're creating around here. Soon though I'll be back to feltiness.

don't forget to visit the ladies hanging out with Kirsty.

The Proof Is In!

2011-02-09T16:50:00.001-07:00

Some pictures from our very fun Aquarian birthday celebrations.. more celebrations to come, of course, since my birthday hasn't even happened yet!

Back Row: Kate, Becky, Nick, Jake, Sam, Katie, Diana.

Middle Row: Tiffany, Emma, me.

Front Row: Aurora.

My life partner is calling this my "Trapped in a glass cage of emotions" picture

Birthday Ring around the Rosie? Not sure, definitely not something which I could do

The Aquarian Survival Kit.. Jake came with poetry and a prank kit; they all came with mints, gum, condoms, aspirin, saltines, Vitamin Water, etc., just to make sure we were all okay.

And, yes, I did use the aspirin and saltines.

In fact, this morning Aurora decided she needed to eat the left over saltine (which was still in the baggy in the car, along with my heels). She asked why I got sick. I told her I drank too much and she concurred. Happens all the time to her, she says. What did I drink?

Beer.

Well, beer is good for you, isn't it mom. I like beer.

Yes, Aurora, I know you do.

But, mom, you should only have 3, or 1 or 2 or 0.

Yes, I should have. But I had much more than that.

Frances, Emma, Katie, and Tanya. Katie, the organizer; the rest Aquarians..

the "A" badges provided by yours truly

Not a true celebration without the hookah (?)

and it was coconut, yummy!

I think I'm teary eyed from all the hookah love.

And we won't post pictures from the morning after. It wasn't pretty.

Neither was our rally for the Superbowl. But we did it. Kind of. At least some of us sat in a room together and watched the telly. That was about all we had energy to do.

Unnecessary Negative Reflections of Undying Hellish Energy

2011-02-08T20:08:00.000-07:00

in other words: UNRUHE.

I have it around this time of year. The time of the Gregarious And Loathsome Affair. It would not be so horrible if it did not penetrate every moment, waking and sleeping.

Since dreams are on the slate I thought we could go through a quick list of some of the Gala dreams I have had - JUST THIS YEAR. And, as was pointed out today, we have 17 more days. 17 more days of nightmares.

1. MLK Day, Washington D.C. Gala. Wherein everyone in the world connected with the Affair is in DC for a MLK Day speech (a full month before the event) and my boss turns to me and asks where all the placecards (all 680 of them) and name tags and programs and bid paddles, etc., are. My panic attack woke me.

2. The Potluck Gala: the event begins 4 hours too soon, with only 10 of the 68 tables, and they are the wrong shape.. banquets, not rounds, and they aren't linened nor do they have any decor. And no one who is supposed to show up is there, only people who aren't on the guest list. And I've forgotten to get Gluten-Free food for one of our workers. And I sink into the carpet behind the registration table and have a momentary freak out.

3. The Cat Gala: someone solicited a bunch of cats (please think crazy cat lady amount of cats) and they have been put into the school weight room for us to care for until time for the Gala. Again, I manage to NOT keep it together and pull the pointing finger with raised voice at many many people about the absurdity of auctioning off live animals.

These are the more interesting aspects of each dream which last far too long and are filled with all sorts of people wondering why I haven't done my job and everything is a wreck.

And then I wake up and realize the most horrible part is it's not even over yet.

Lost Time

2011-02-07T17:42:00.000-07:00

Lots of lovely things happening, like the ice skating (where I didn't die) and Aquarian felty brooches (but only for the truly adventurous) and complexes and beer. There is proof of such things, but I have yet to see it.

For now know that I am trying to keep my face on (have been attacked by some dread plague probably carried by bees or oil tankers) and I promise to update with photos soon. And hopefully the work nightmares will end soon (probably not until February 25 when the Gala is over). And I'll have more time for spending time (without giving the plague).

But until then...

enjoy some Mumford & Sons with me.

My Creative Space

2011-02-02T13:13:00.000-07:00

Ah, ha! My creative space.. yes, here it is. Okay, I'm fibbing a bit. It was MUCH more everyone else's creative space. But it was a nice time out with the ladies. I hope we repeat it soon.

We started the night out right, with wine and hat selection at Frances'. I was rocking the "feder" fedora, but Aurora stole it like the demanding pirate rock star she is.

(Tanya and Aurora)

On the way to crafts Aurora asked why her "feder" was so big and long. Well, after the snickering subsided Frances pointed out that ALL the cool and important people had big feathers, and if she ever saw someone with a small feather... This is where I interrupt and say, "You should point and laugh." Frances insists she was going to say NOT to point and laugh. We clearly have very different parenting/life skills.

(Katie and Tany and a bit of Aurora's masterpiece)

(Danielle, Emma and Katie and LOTS of craftiness)

I can't lie. Whilst everyone was making layered collages with special meanings and messages and filled with love and glitter, I was at a bit of a loss.

(Just a few of the magically sparkly cards made with lots of love)

I've never been much one for Valentine's Day. Don't get me wrong. I love Valentine's Day. Seeing my three favourite colors fill the aisles means something very important: it is almost my birthday. Valentine's is always overshadowed by MY BIRTHDAY.

So I made some notecards...

(I do like their simplicity)

And then Aurora decided it was more fun to play with my phone camera...

I hope you are having a crafty time. For lots of great creative minds, make sure to visit Kirsty!

Because It Is My Month

2011-02-01T17:07:00.000-07:00

So a little bit of self-promotion wouldn't go amiss, would it?

The lovely woman who bought all of my heart (owl)ies on the first round wrote the sweetest feedback:

"These are too cute! Very well made! You can tell she put so much time, effort, and love into these little owls!"

And I'm so glad she thinks so, because we all know how enamoured I am with all my little dears - I mean (owl)ies, of course.

And the heart (owl)ies are excited to be in a few treasuries as well!

Victoria Heart (owl)ie has been in the following:

Just Because I Love You

Heartbreaker

Will You Be My Anti-Valentine

Rose Heart (owl)ie got her moment in the sun as well

Valentine Gifts under $30

Hoot!

And tonight we're making fun craftiness with lots of special ladies, so expect some fun crafting photos!

Have a lovely evening!

xoxo

The Great Aquarian Coup

2011-01-28T12:23:00.000-07:00

is here. It's that time of year again - the time when some of the coolest people on the planet and the universe reign. Well, we always reign, but it's a bit more noticeable when we all lose our heads celebrating our birthdays.

Some of you may have heard about these crazy people in.. where are they? Wisconsin? (If they are they should have other things to worry about right now...) deciding our ancient and wise astrology was wrong, and I am actually a Capricorn.

I'm here to say emphatically I am NO such thing (and if I hear any of you call me that again I'll use my masterful powers of evil glariness on you).

Some people just don't have anything better to do with their time then to try change things that are SET in the STARS. Remember poor Pluto? Yea, THOSE kind of people.

The wonderful thing about astrology is how completely different we (I am speaking most for Aquarians at this moment) all are and yet how absolutely magnetized we are by each other.

I have many many important fellow Aquarians in my life. And as I realized who each of them were it gave me a pleasant chuckle to enjoy with the universe. This month is going to get crazy. Not only do I have our biggest (biennial) event at work (which makes my brain implode on a daily basis), but also so many fun activities.

So far on the schedule is sweetheart crafting night, ice-skating (!god help me!) with costuming, Aquarian birthday bash, Super-Bowl (don't have telly, which means I need to find someplace to watch), my birthday, and movie read-through.

So another biggie is to get internet at home (so I can keep you updated) and take lots of photos!

What are YOUR big plans for this lovely futuristic time of love and world peace?

Musicals, Movies, and My Life

2011-01-26T18:38:00.000-07:00

My life is incredibly musical. It is such a shame I never picked up a useful instrument knowledge. I constantly have music playing. Silence hurts my head a lot. So when there isn't music on (even when I'm reading) there must be a movie on.

Lately is has been musicals. Although since the move my movie collection has severely diminished. Lots of "Mama Mia" and "Phantom of the Opera". I have no doubt the neighbors (who I can hear closing their cupboards and starting their microwave) LOVE me belting out like I'm Christine Daae or the fifth Swede.

And speaking of movies.. some of you might recall my movie debut in "Want Ad". Well, my fame is increasing. Another movie has been written. I have been cast, although I am not sure as what - like it matters. I'm ecstatic! This insanely enthralling and fun-filled venture has been so transformative for me.

After years of wanting and pretending to try to lose weight the movie was the catalyst. And I plan on being, at least a little buff, for the next one. So lots of visits to the gym and lots more jogging. Oh, how I detest jogging.

So you get to look forward to lots of news over the upcoming few months about the amazing motiviation of knowing your face is going to be 40 feet big. Also lots of hoping I get to scream in this one.

An Anchor: Sleep, Part II

2011-01-25T10:46:00.000-07:00

In “The God of Small Things” there is the theory that things that are dreamt are real. I agree they must be. What the brain perceives to be real, MUST in fact be real to us. My emotions are real. They do not change when I wake up. I have woken up yelling in anger and not gotten over a dreamt fight for days.

The other night I dreamt I was in a bit of a mystery and there was much water. Our car crashed into a river. And Robert Pattinson was quite taken with me. I can’t really blame him. I was quite taken with him. And because I always have very innocent dreams (and I’m not at all being sarcastic, I really do have just wonderfully childish dreams where boys are concerned) just as we managed to get out of the car and are about to kiss the neighbor slammed the door and I awoke. Disgruntled, but still delighted I fell back asleep and can’t complain too much because I continued the dream, but my brain replaced Robert Pattinson with David Duchovny. All in all a pretty good night!

I have dreamt a handsome pirate prince fell in love with me long before the Pirates trilogy. I woke from that dream in tears because he drowned and I held his lifeless body in my arms. I have danced with Mr. Darcy on numerous occasions, although only once have we kissed. The second almost kiss was interrupted by two troublesome faculty with whom I work. I was very grumpy the next time I saw them.

I have stood in my basement with a shotgun and terror in my heart as I stared at my daughter wondering how in the hell I was going to get her out of the zombie apocalypse and to some place safe. If there was any place safe. I have been bitten by a zombie and broken into a quarantined area and discovered something to prolong the need to eat human flesh. I highly recommend stocking up on Gatorade and lots of protein if the zombie plague hits.

I have had jumping dreams a lot over my life. I can’t really fly. I can, however, jump and suspend myself in the air for incredibly long periods of time. Unfortunately, it usually ends with me getting in over my head and going so high (I’m scared of heights and over lodge pole pines is much too much) I just panic and don’t know how to let myself back down.

While I was pregnant, and after I learned to sleep through Aurora kicking me, I dreamt she kicked her little feet right through my stomach and I was NOT very happy. I shoved her feet back in and went to the doctor’s and they stitched me back together as I snarked Aurora repeatedly for coming out too early.

Two of my favourite dreams starred Jimmy Morrison. His beautiful long hair and impossible poetry. And I would say he was a figment of my imagination, but I don’t think he could have been. His words meant too much.

I have been abducted by aliens and rescued by Mulder and Scully. I’m pretty sure although I have kissed Mulder many times I have only kissed Scully once. I have acted in an X-Files and tried desperately to play it cool in front of David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson. I have swam with sharks and buried my best friend. I have driven drunk and been rescued by a high school crush. I have been trapped in a river of hot lava and woke myself by praying out loud.

I have even, only once, died in a dream, which I believed impossible. It happened at A Perfect Circle concert. It was the most horrible feeling. It took me weeks to get over my death and only when the real concert was canceled did I breathe a sigh of relief. I will never see A Perfect Circle in concert, as much as it pains me, my fear of the prophecy is too immediate.

I revel in dreams. I want to live in a dream, which means saying yes to more things, but feeling comfortable saying no when necessary.

Anyone interested in having a dream day with me? Once a week let's post a dream from recent nights. Don't forget to start a dream journal to help you with remembering details! See you in my dreams if not before!
xo

An Anchor: sleep, part I

2011-01-21T09:01:00.001-07:00

I have been thinking about sleeping. A lot. I am not sure if it is my brain's way of telling me to get more of it, or just that I need better sleep, or just to enjoy it when I can.

I have slept most everywhere. Although I must admit sleeping anywhere was a lot easier when I was younger.
I have slept across a washer and dryer (I was at a camp and needed to claim them to do laundry and was also very sleepy). I have slept on a radiator cover (which was utterly disastrous because the cover fell open and landed with a thud and an awkward crunch as it smashed my much needed glasses). I have slept in hotel room chairs (curled into the teeniest ball I could with the ottoman to use for any overhang, and, of course, with my arse and knees there was overhang).

I have slept hung over in an airport (with my ever trusty Fluffy as a pillow). I have fallen asleep under the bed with a dog (much to my parents’ dismay). I have slept across the foot of a bed (because there were too many people sleeping length wise for me to fit anywhere else). I have slept in a dorm lobby (far too many nights and sometimes with custodians vacuuming at 6:00 a.m. around me).

I have always been a night owl and an early riser, and now that I'm older I can rarely nap (unless sheer exhaustion hits), but I have the most vivid dreams. They are so delicious. Even the scary ones. I crave dreams. Because if your brain tells you something is real then it IS real, right?

Zombie Plague Hits Montana

2011-01-20T10:12:00.000-07:00

We knew it would strike somewhere right? I think it MIGHT have been those two infected (owl)ies I took in my carry-on, but you know the TSA didn't seem to care if I was bringing the plague with me.. only if I had more than 3 fl oz. of hair gel (which I didn't, but goo thing they double checked).

The Montana trip began with some zombiefied (owl)ies, a little "Zombieland" and being locked in the morgue. Oops. Actually, as the door clicked shut it was more like, "Oh {expeltive deleted}."

Except I couldn't get through this door either.

This isn't my first morgue, but thought I should include the dread duck lips for Brandy.

Then we went to ZombieTools. Well, at least their workshop. And I got to play with some of their tools. My favourite was the Urban Bone Machete, Mark III. It was definitely the most comfortable for my grip. I also enjoyed the artwork, which included lots of bloody fingers. The creators are Maxon and Joey.

We were even invited to a Zombie Tool fight. I must admit, although I was excited to see it, we got distracted with friends, beer and really good food.

The Silliest Things

2011-01-13T10:52:00.000-07:00

Include falling. Do you fall? I trip a lot. Mostly going up stairs. Occasionally headed down, but only if the stair is a bit slippery and maybe I’m wearing socks, or heels. But up? Gets me all the time. There is this thing with having to actually put one’s foot all the way on the step and maintain balance, or not catch the tip of your foot on a pant leg. The latter seems to be the culprit a lot lately. Even when I’m not on stairs, but particularly when I am on stairs. For example, Monday I fell up the stairs twice.

Yes, twice in one day. Once to start my day and once to finish it.

We have lovely evil stairs heading up to our offices. Debi is the lucky one who sits at the top of the stairs and gets to see everyone come and go. Monday she saw me arrive loaded down with bags. I had a giant bag which contained workout clothes and shoes, some belated Christmas gifts, and paperwork. I also had my overflowing purse which doesn’t shut anymore because my keys are too big, and a gift bag with another belated Christmas present. Of course, at the very top step I fall. Not just trip, mind you, but flat out hands on the carpet with bags a flyin’. To be honest I think I found it a lot more funny then Debi.

And then at approximately 9:30 Monday evening, about 20 minutes after receiving a text from Jethro telling me to be careful of the stairs (which makes this one the funniest because he did not know about the earlier incident) I fell on my way to my bedroom to change. This one was just two or three steps up, which seems to happen a lot at home, so I wonder if that step has it out for me. Which I don’t really understand unless I somehow offended it when I moved in. Maybe I accidently skipped it a time or two.

Other silly things include getting water on one’s pants at a sink. It’s actually a pet peeve of mine, because I always seem to be the one who leans into it. So if you are ever in a public restroom with me you’ll probably want to look away awkwardly as I use the paper towels to wipe down the puddles of water all over the counter, usually while muttering about messy people and their lack of respect for the uncoordinated or short. I mean it is bad enough being the right height to get water all over your pants, but if I were five? I’d have gotten water in my armpits!

I also got water all over my pants Monday morning immediately after falling up the stairs. Fortunately, I didn’t wet myself. But I did throw water everywhere whilst trying to rinse out the coffee pot.

My lack of coordination is mostly the likely the reason I love physical comedy. Give me Inspector Clousseau catching his fingers in a spinning globe, Matthew Perry running into sliding glass doors, or Dan Akroyd’s Julia Child skit any day.

Case in Point

2011-01-12T12:59:00.000-07:00

just to make sure I've been outdone again...I received a package from Chelsea last night with the following:

(kreative paper products by David Bikman at dbikman@gmail.com)

and the wristies!

she was kind enough to NOT make me feel worse and add the finger holes to the rest of the hand.

And they are in my favourite color. Aren't they lovely?!

Thank you, Chelsea!! I LOVE MY PRESSIES!

Being Outdone

2011-01-11T11:37:00.000-07:00

My younger sister seems to always outdo me. I have to admit I take a certain amount of pride in this, because (although she might deny I had anything to do with it) I feel I prodded her a bit when she was younger. She used to be an awful priss. Sorry, Chelsea, but I still have lovely lovely visions of you in your sea foam green gorgeous prom dress when you were a freshman in high school.

I remember abject lessons in mouthing back to your teachers, questioning authority, not giving into status quo, etc. (Yes, I know, from the woman working in special events who is now living in a cookie cutter town house). She ran away to Eugene a long time ago and has traveled from New York for acting classes to Costa Rica on a whim.

Where I am the type of person who is vaguely interested in knowing or doing something and decides to just figure it out the best I can on my own without trying to very hard, Chelsea actually learns how to do it.

A very great example is her visit right before Christmas. I make, and love to crochet, cute, simple single stitch “wristies”, which are fingerless gloves. They are made from a single rectangular piece of a certain width and length stitched together leaving a hole for the thumb. I thought myself very clever – as I cannot read patterns, nor do I have much desire to do so.

Chelsea has me try on a lovely pair of fingerless gloves, except they actually have cut off finger holes for each finger and the thumb, and they are ribbed in delightful ways and have stripes of color. I ohh and ahh and she says, “I have a ton of purple, how about I make you some in purple?” “You MADE THESE?!” And then in half disgust and half amusement I begin to laugh and show her a pair of mine, which are, of course, woefully childish in comparison.

And, again, it is with great pride and a slight twinge of jealously that I send you off to her blog. While I very much consider myself a writer (although why I STILL haven’t finished a book… that damn fear again) I will not delude myself into thinking I write anything of great depth – I’m much too silly most of the time to be bothered. So if you are looking for something intellectually stimulating you’ll want to visit her.

xoxo

By Gosh and By Golly

2011-01-10T11:51:00.002-07:00

A phrase I haven’t heard in very long time. It was said by a very sweet older woman during a meeting last week, and it has stuck with me. It made me giggle internally the moment it was said. “By gosh and by golly” is apropos to the feelings I’m trying to maintain with my resolutions: cheerful and determined.

I think in the 10 short days of the New Year I have already made progress in some areas, and in other areas fear still pervades. It is mostly the fear which comes from not knowing oneself or, at least, being unable to hear certain bits, as though searching for the transmission of truth but coming up with mostly static.

But, by gosh and by golly, I’m going to keep plugging away. Perhaps I’m not meant to know certain truths, because I have yet to reach that portion of the path, and when I do the transmission will come in loud and clear. Ahhhh, there it is. Facing the fear has a lot to do with faith. The trickiest part is when to go on faith alone and when to listen to the warning bells.

So Far So Good

2011-01-05T17:21:00.000-07:00

I won't lie and say I haven't had a couple of freak out moments where my thoughts run around in my head and then spew out in some terrified moment of trying to justify my feelings, but all in all the first five days of 2011 seem to be going well.

I have reinvigorated (with the prompting, of course, of Choo Choo) jogging and might I say that I do seem to get along well with treadmills. I have jogged two miles straight each time (none of those pesky walking breaks as the ground doesn't allow you to slow easily). I have been doing some relaxing yoga (but should note that not all of it is very relaxing and some of those poses I think broke my neck).

I have also been taking moments to do nothing at all. Like watching an entire movie without doing a craft through it. My hands did itch, as did my eye for a half hour or so, but in the end it was good.

Aurora and I made a fun drive into the big city last night and picked up some books. We picked up kindergarten level books for Aurora (Thomas the Train, Barbie and her horse - the exact one she owns, and Tangled). I found, unexpectedly, a collection of essays by Milan Kundera. And as soon as I finish my James Herriot "Every Living Thing" I'll be eager to begin.

Aurora has begun a couple of full days in kindergarten this week. She has been very excited. She enjoys numbers a lot and is doing very well with her math; she gets easily frustrated by words, which is a weird concept for me. But I'm trying to understand. I hope her new books which she picked out will help motivate her to try reading more herself (since we tend to read big books like Roald Dahl novels).

I hope your new year is off to a fantastic start!

Part II: "...like I can feel the future on your skin"

2011-01-01T12:03:00.000-07:00

There is something wondrous about today's date 1.1.11. Last year at this time I was alight with an anticipatory fire! I remember looking at the world with a tingling in my heart and mind. And people around the world (some of them were you, if you remember) were feeling the same thing. We all knew it was going to be a big year.

I think 2010 proved itself. Even if it was not in all the ways we imagined. Many of us lost loved ones, or were still dealing with the grief of our previous losses, situations arose and tested our values and, dare I say it, our resoluteness. Each of these tests made us look inward, whether we wanted to or not. For my part, I saw many dark corners and danger signs, but I also saw in the distance the beautiful garden and knew it was no time to be frozen with fear. I have been trying to thank you for allowing me to continue on my journey at my own pace and in the safety of your support (whether it be in your comments, or in your silence).

After the tantalizing anticipation of all 2010 would bring I am surprised to find I am not delirious going into 2011. Never fear, the New Year does not pale in comparison. I cannot succinctly describe the mood, but it as though the fire which was started last year and was so new is now a constant. Last year I was the kindling and it meant a lot of changes as the fire consumed layers upon layers. This year I AM the fire and it will be all about feeding the flames by taking things into me and breathing. Fire cannot exist without fuel and air and I have no intention of burning out.

My resolutions seem more ethereal and, therefore, have not necessarily been something I have felt capable of putting into "goal" form, but that is why I must stop and remember to look around. This path is still made of stone and dirt. My feet are still on solid ground no matter what the state of my spirit might be. So it seems, as ever, like Alice we must believe at least six impossible things.

I shall try not to mince words but get to the heart of my seemingly lofty "resolutions"

1. Face my fears (THEE guideline for 2011 and all other "goals").
2. Learn what causes unhealthy stress in my life and allow myself to deal with those issues directly.
3. Create healthy patterns of living.
4. Taking time to align my needs with my wants and creating plans to achieve.
5. Remember my spiritual awakening IS my path and the universe will never fail to guide me as long as I am open to the signs.
6. Love myself.

I have no doubt these things will only be accomplished through much reflection and continuing to look on the bright side of things, even if some of those things have been hiding under brambles and cobwebs for so very long.

I hope you'll join me for this new portion of the journey. There are many more crafts to be made, stairs to fall down, supernatural adventures to be had, margaritas to be drank, and sunshine to enjoy.

wishing you the very best New Year

xoxo

Part I: "Walking up to the edge and jumping in..."

2010-12-30T15:45:00.000-07:00

2010 has been a lifetime onto itself. I began with the ever lofty goals of oh ten. Oh dear. As usual I fell oh so short of accomplishing so many of them. I am not in the least bit regretful. I have accomplished more than I ever thought possible this year.

I have accepted some of my outer and inner layers which has in turn led me to so many joyous discoveries - like being kinder to myself than I ever have been, I learned to be less afraid of life and what I really want from it and myself. I'm the healthiest I have ever been. I am learning how to be a better mother through the transformations I'm making in my life (and, therefore, Aurora's) and I also believe many of the transformations I'm working on have been because I want to be a better mother.

2010 has been a wonderful year of painful decisions, learning to let go, saying goodbye, laughing and laughing and laughing again until I cry, dancing, road trip antics, working on my insecurities, trying to be grown up, trying to not be too grown up, staying brave and breathing.

2011.. I think we have a lot to be getting on with...

To Be Continued

The End is Nigh

2010-12-17T14:39:00.000-07:00

That adventurous snow day almost killed me. It is cosmic pay back for all the times I snarked Jane Austen's characters ability to be struck down with a debilitating illness after a short jaunt in the rain or cold (please note it was done with love and attitude which Jane would appreciate and approve). So in the middle of a horrible sickness I also was supposed to be packing for my grand move.

The packing really didn't go so well. This made my desire to be organized cry. Literally. I'm ashamed to admit I still don't have everything moved from the old house. Still a couple of plants, my ironing board and all my things for storage and ALL my Christmas decor. This means I am not putting up my tree. I am lame.
Aurora, when she is here - as moving also entails shared custody - loves it as much as I do. A teeny little place that is new and we can put our stuff wherever we want! Her room is not all the way finished because we ran out of nails/thumbtacks, so photos are lacking. But thusfar we have....

some of our little living room

LOOK! I pared down my books!

FIREPLACE! And I put a lot of heirloom items into storage boxes and kept mostly only what could be functional in my china hutch

Itty bitty kitchen and dining area, but it has a dishwasher!

An art area in my bedroom: top manga is from a student, the little baby was drawn by my sister while I was pregnant with Aurora, the bottom stick man is from Sam Brown at Explodingdog.com (a favourite artist), vampyress was done by Samantha's sister and then pictures of Aurora and my Piro sketch

Some of my Chad Walker (my favourite artist) prints from Devotedbee.com

and my long sought after tea cart, my grandma's travel jewelry case (red) and my mom's travel case that was recently gifted and is a lovely piece from my childhood

An unfinished corner... but lots of etsy love such as a little owlie named Tracy from Zemphira and Morgana my little Bodkin from Tanya and my keep calm prints from KeepCalmShop!

I am also figuring out how to operate out of a place that doesn't have a lot of shelves or cupboards, the closet is a bit odd..but I think it's getting there (sorry about the smalls, just avert your eyes if you need)

The new place does not have internet yet, but I promise to fix that soon and then there will be more updates then you'll ever want. As with all of you, I am sure, there is a lot of goings on as we approach the end of 2010, some things are exciting, some are neutral and some are tragic. But I am, even when I am crying over things lost, or sick with stress, so thankful for so many wonderful friends and family in my life.

I am so looking forward to Christmas and the new year. 2010 has been so glorious I am excited to make sure 2011 tops it!