"Living on our bookshelf in Paris. Orange interior light means--nighttime in autumn."
Monday, November 23, 2009
Saturday, November 21, 2009
I decided to get started early and make my first batch of Christmas cookies. I made tiny trees with my brand new Wilton Cookie Press. (You know it was just an excuse to use it.)
I asked Darian to get started on her Santa List, and it reminded me of how much fun I used to have putting my Santa List together every year, when I was a kid.
I thought it would be fun to make one on here. Not because I'm expecting gifts from all of my blog readers, but just for the fun of putting a list together. (See what I've done here? I've managed to find a way to make a year end list without it being a year end list.)
1- KitchenAid. In Pink or Red, I still can't decide. I really have no idea how I've gone as long as I have without one. I bake all of the time and I burn through hand mixers like crazy.
2- Canon 50mm f/1.8 - for my camera, so I can get better low light shots at rock shows, and finally be able to take decent shots at The Triple Door. It is visually the most amazing club, but you can't use a flash there which makes my fancy camera uttery useless there.
3- A bunch of Wilton stuff. I want so much cake decorating stuff from the Wilton line, I could make a sub list just for that. Here are just a few of the pans I want.
- 3D Rubber Ducky cake pan.
- Avanti® Everglide® Metal-Safe Non-Stick Springform Pan with Glass Bottom
- Guitar pan!!!
5- Brief Encounter DVD- I already own it, but I made the mistake of buying the DVD that only works in Europe. I want the Criterion Collection DVD.
That is really all I can come up with right now. There are other things I want/need, but those fall more under the realm of necessity, like a new mattress set, a new chair, a new Neumann Microphone (Wait, how did that get in there?) So, it's not a long list, but I'm not a girl who wants for much in this life.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
OR, if you only want one copy, I will sell them individually for $10 each +shipping. Just send me an email: lilblackcat23 at gmail.com
Something about the scent of apples cooking just screams Fall and Cozy.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
First I wanted to thank Darla who invited me to participate in her "2009 Wig Project" which inspired this whole project. I never really thought about postcards, but when I started putting the wig project cards together, I just kept going, and so the postcard project was born...
The other person I wanted to thank, and to dedicate the 365 Days of Photos postcard project to is Diane (My Mother-in-Law) She was the one who bought us our very first digital camera in 2005, now 5 years and 8,640 photos later, the photo postcard project was born. So, thank you Diane for being wicked cool!!
and Thank YOU people who are,have,and will be participating in the 365 Days of Photos Postcard Project!!
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Before i even saw your blog post about what to do, i had pinned your postcard up on the pin board next to my desk. it is filled with lovely things people have sent me. i look up at it repeatedly when i'm sitting at my desk working on things that are less wonderful.
i love this image! stunning.
xxo, phoebe marie
Monday, November 09, 2009
When you receive your postcard please do one of the following:
1- Email, twitter, FB me and let me know that it was, in fact, received. If you would like to elaborate on the shape it was in after going through the post, that would be great!
2- Take a photo of the postcard in your possession, with your cat, on your refrigerator, in your hand... with a camera or even just with a cell phone and email it to me at lilblackcat23 at gmail dot com.
3- Come up with some other creative way to let me know you got it.
I will be posting all of these responses as a series on www.michelleauer.com as I send out the post cards.
Thanks for joining me in this fun little interactive art project!
If you would like to get a card and participate, you can leave me your mailing address in the comments. All of my comments are moderated, so I will not make your mailing address public. Or you can email me with your mailing address at: lilblackcat23 at gmail dot com with 365 days of Photos in the header.
Sunday, November 08, 2009
I made these as well. They are what I might imagine heaven would taste like. I need a shirt that says, "I LOVE BUTTERCREAM"
Thank Jeebus I work at a large office now where people are happy to eat my baking experiments. Otherwise I'd be 300 pounds by the holidays at the rate I've been baking!
Tonight, I did some experimenting with infused butter. I don't know if it was a complete success, but the cookies are delicious. I think I know now what I should do next time.
I've always loved the scent and flavor of Earl Grey tea. I was using a typical shortbread cookie recipe but before I made it, I took one of the sticks of butter and melted it on the stove top, careful not to burn or cook the butter. I added 4 teabags to the butter and I let it cook in the butter for a while, and then I set them aside, off the heat and let them soak for about 10 minutes. The end result was butter with a very strong tea scent. This recipe called for 4 sticks of butter, so I mixed in the one melted stick into the 3 cold sticks, beating it until fluffy, about ten minutes.
When they baked, you could really smell the tea, they smelled like heaven, but you can't really taste it in the actual cookie. I think the next time, I will use loose tea and let it soak a lot longer and then strain it out before using it for the cookies. I don't think the four teabags were enough.
I didn't feel like messing with rolling pins and cookie cutter, so I turned these into thumbprint cookies and added a dollop of raspberry jam in each cookie. They are quite pretty, and delicious!
Saturday, November 07, 2009
Tuesday, November 03, 2009
A lot of cool stuff has been happening!
I have not posted about Jon's 40th birthday parties or Darian's 15th birthday:Or the amazing rock shows I've been to (including John Wesley Harding at The Triple Door, Spiral Stairs and Bob Mould at Neumos, The Disciplines (Ken Stringfellow's new band) at The Comet and Pink! at the Key Arena)
I could talk about how much I love my new job. How creative I have been recently. It is amazing how recharged I feel now that I am working normal hours again and have my free time back.
I will sit down soon and write all about all of these things, or at least post some photos, but for now I will post a photo of the cake I just made!
It's chocolate cake with cherry preserves in the center and covered in a cloud of the most amazing whipped buttercream frosting I've ever made. (Basically three sticks of sweet cream butter & Heavy cream whipped into a cloud of amazing.)
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Saturday, September 26, 2009
This has lead to re-visiting a lot of things that I have not thought about in what feels like hundreds of years. It also makes me thank my lucky stars that I have such a grounded, down to earth, NON-boy crazy, level headed daughter. Basically, I'm very happy that I don’t have a kid who is anything like I was in school.
I was having lunch with my friend today and we were sharing war stories from when we were teenagers when we came to the story of how we lost our virginity.
Now, my story is actually pretty entertaining, but I have never shared it publicly because, well, because I know my parents read my blog.
I’ve come to the decision that I am in my mid-30’s, married, and have a teenager. I’m pretty sure my parents no longer think I am a virgin, so I can share this story. (This means Mom and Dad, if you want to remain blissfully unaware, then stop reading now.)
I grew up in a little nowhere place called: Eagle River, Alaska.
Population: Who cares?
The most exciting thing that town had to offer was driving to a slightly less smaller town, that we referred to as our city, and driving around a 12 block “strip” on a Saturday night, listening to your music loud and honking at your friends as you drove by.
The boys were all total hockey playing lumberjacks and the girls all had big hair and their biggest concerns were, “Who scammed on my man?”, “I can’t have flat hair!” and “Didn’t she already wear those same Guess jeans on Monday?”
I was cursed with the boobs of a 20 year old at the age of 12 and an even bigger brain. I was shy, hard headed, kind of dark, and a lot cynical. I liked boys, in fact I would say I was boy crazy, but I was also smart enough to never let on that I even noticed them because my much greater fear of being rejected ruled most opposite sex interactions.
Instead, I liked to put myself squarely and firmly in the land of “Just friends” so as to avoid any pesky romantic notions and ruin a good thing. I figured I would rather be best buddies with a guy than have to deal with all of the drama that comes with dating, kissing and God forbid, SEX!
I have a lot of theories why the idea of getting naked with any man scared the bejeezus out of me. My main theory is; When I was a very little girl, I went to church and a Lutheran school. I bought into everything that was being shoveled at me at a very young and impressionable age. There was a lot of “burning in hell for all eternity” that I was terrified of.
I remember accidentally walking in on my brother changing and seeing him nude and going out to the woods and praying every day for a week because I thought stumbling across male nudity was a one way ticket to burning forever. I also thought when I swore, God got mad at me, so I picked up this annoying habit of dropping the F bomb in my head and apologizing afterward. It was like a twisted broken record. Basically, church literally put the fear of God in me and I think it left me with a slight case of post traumatic stress disorder.
By the time I hit puberty, we had moved a million states away from the family church and I had some major exposure to the public school system. I realized a lot of what I was told back in the day was a load of honky BS.
I held on to the basic value system. You know, the whole, “Do unto others” and “Love thy neighbor”, try to “Do the right thing” But my definition of ‘right’ changed to more of a “Follow your conscience” and less of a “Do it or else!” attitude. I started doing the right thing because it felt right and I’m a good person, not because I was terrified of a God was going to lay the smack down if I didn’t.
At some point, after becoming a teen and moving into that new phase of life, I realized something very important about the kids in my small town: Teenagers are assholes. Selfish little self centered know it all sex crazed jealous bat shit crazy assholes.
There are a few exceptions as there are to every rule. My kid is no asshole and she has great non-asshole friends. The few friends I still hold dear from that time were not assholes, that is why I still choose to know them. But for the most part, I have to say, I think it is probably a 1 in 30 kind of statistic: Non-assholes to assholes.
Given the fact I was shy, pretty, smart, and surrounded by assholes, I did what every teenage girl would do in this situation and rebelled against all of it. If I could not join them, I was going to beat them. I was going to get involved with world issues, Greenpeace, Amnesty International. I was going to write letters about animal testing and go join in on gay rights activism.
I was going to be so busy that High School romance and politics would have no place in my world. And, for the most part, that worked.
I found myself getting labeled as “Alternative” which was pretty much a bad word back then, (This was pre-Nirvana America) and people left me alone.
I was the girl who was friendly with everyone, but didn’t subscribe to any cliques. I just lived in my own little bubble of “get school over with and get the hell out of this town”. That was my mission statement. I lived for the day I could walk away, get on a plane and go to a city, any city, as long as it was on a coast and not full of Republicans.
Somewhere, midway through high school, most of my girlfriends had already had several boyfriends and were already regularly having sex. They would casually discuss it at sleepovers and over lunch. They would compare notes, like girls do. Talk about how this one does this, or that one doesn’t do that, or would you ever let him do that?!
I watched each of my friends lose their virginity, one after another until I was the only one left. No one likes to be the last picked for softball and no one likes to be the last one still holding her flower. Petals were dropping around me like a cold snap in the Springtime. I was beginning to feel like I was missing the bus.
One of the handy upsides to being the school Alternative chick is that rumors run rampant. People mock, dissect, make shit up about that which they do not understand. Because I was dark, liked to wear blackberry lipstick, dyed my hair unnatural colors, and wore vintage clothes, many fascinating things were decided about me. I heard I was a Devil worshiper (of course), I did loads of drugs (Why not?!), and I was a massive ho beast with a dash of dominatrix tendencies.
The stories I heard about myself were amazing and fantastic. Sometimes it hurt my feelings, but sometimes I would wish I had the self assured prowess of the woman they were accusing me of being.
I once heard how I tied a boy up and had my way with him in his car at a dance. I heard how I forced a boy to take hallucinogenic drugs and performed some crazy witchcraft on him before seducing him and rocking his world.
Once I even heard a guy claim he slept with me, and then when asked how it was he told his buddies it was “All right”. That boy, I yelled at in the lunchroom. I walked up to him and said, “IF you are determined to lie to people and tell them that you had sex with me, at the very least you can tell them it was the greatest sex of your life!” and marched away in a huff.
The reality was, I was just a scared girl. I was scared of all things sex related. Between fear of getting knocked up, VD and the remnants of visions of hell fire burned into my psyche when I was all too young. I really wanted nothing to do with it. I didn’t even like the idea of letting a boy stick his tongue in my mouth, much less anything else in/on/around/near me.
That is the great thing about rumors. People would rather believe the juicy gossip than believe that you are a boring old scardey-cat virgin. So I just didn’t say anything. I didn’t talk about it, and everyone eventually forgot that I had not done it. It was my big secret, and it was getting harder and harder to deal with.
I wanted to know what all of the fuss was about. I wanted to be able to talk about sex with my friends and actually have some firsthand experience. I hated that I didn’t know something that they all seemed to know. It made me feel weird and isolated and suddenly I cared that I never had a boyfriend. Suddenly, I found myself wondering if I was really a social outcast by choice or if there was something wrong with me. It really started to do a number on my self esteem.
I remember the day I decided I was going to lose my virginity. I told myself I was going to find a nice boy, who I thought was attractive, but someone who would be uncomplicated. I didn’t want it to be a best friend in case it ruined the friendship, but I didn’t want it to be a stranger either. I approached the idea of having sex with the same emotional detachment of a social scientist starting a new experiment. I was going to have sex, that was not a question, I just didn’t know with whom this sex would happen.
The first thing I did was convince my newspaper teacher that we needed an article about STDs and teen pregnancy and I was going to be the girl to write this article. The research to the article entailed a trip to Planned Pregnancy for a Pap and birth control pills. I told her I wanted to experience everything first hand as a first timer in the place so I could write about it to my peers, showing them how accessible these things were. She thought it was a great idea.
I called and set up my appointment at the clinic. I had my friend, Helen drive me. I was pretty nervous seeing as I had never had sex and I was about to get my first pelvic exam. I was so embarrassed about being a virgin that I told my doctor I had already had sex and that my pretend boyfriend and I were going to be having regular sex so I needed to get on birth control pills.
The doctors were impressed with how I was taking charge and being safe. They gave me a lecture about condoms and STDs and then told me to get undressed and into a gown.
When I was lying on the paper covered table with my feet up in stirrups and my business hanging out for all the world to see, I started to re-think this grand idea of mine, but it was too late. I was there and this was happening.
The doctor came in. He was a nice older man. Very non-descript, and non memorable, just how a doctor in this scenario really should be. He smiled and walked around to the end of the table where my head was, which surprised me as I thought his focus would be on the other end.
He asked, “This is a training facility and I was wondering if it would be OK with you if I had a student assist me with your exam today.”
Me, being so mortified that I was even on this table in the first place and in a huge hurry to get it over with without fuss, just shook my head and said as nonchalantly as possible, “Yeah, sure, whatever.”
He walks over to the door and waves someone in.
Through the door walks a super young, gorgeous man. He looked like a soap opera doctor and not more than 10 years older than me. I wanted to jump off that table right then and run down the street with my ass hanging out. I was a deer in headlights. I did not want this guy doing this exam. I just had no idea what to do, so I froze.
The doctors moved to the ass end of the table. Dr Hotty then asked me to move my bottom to the very end of the table. I scooted up a little. He asked me to scoot a little more. I moved about a millimeter. He then said, “I’d like you to scootch up until it almost feels like you are going to fall off.”
I giggled and apologized and said, “Sorry this is my first Pap.”
Then he said three words I will never forget ever as long as I live, “It’s mine too!”
I think I blacked out in my brain for a second after that.
Knowing what I know now about annual exams, this one was about 25 times longer than any exam I’ve had since. Everything he did, he asked the other doctor first. It felt like it took him a year to get the light adjusted just right.
And then it happened, Dr Old Guy asks, “So, you said you have had sex before?”
I said, “Um, yeah, but it was really quick and only once.”
He seemed unconvinced and mumbled something to Dr Hotty, which made him seem extra fumbley and then Dr Old Guy took over. There was a really bad pinch and the exam was over. I’m pretty sure they figured out I was lying right at that moment, but I never confirmed it. They gave me my prescription for pills and my first three packs and sent me on my merry way.
After that debacle I knew that losing my virginity to a teenage boy was going to be a piece of cake.
I was a woman on a mission. I spent my days in class watching the boys that I knew. I had a little check list in my head. Is he accessible and attractive? Is he nice? Do I find him at all intimidating or threatening? If we were no longer friends after, would it ruin my life?
I really thought I had it down to a perfect science. I was not going to get emotionally involved I was just going to get it over with, experience it in it rawest form. I was going to have sex for the sake of having sex. I was hoping to enjoy it, and there was even a romantic part of me that was maybe hoping that it might lead to something bigger, but for the most part, I just really wanted to have the experience. I wanted to understand what I was missing out on.
Ironically enough, it was in my Science class that I found the perfect boy. He was newer to the school, but totally adorable. He was an athlete, but not a dumb jock. He had a really sweet smile and good manners. He was as cute as a button and I already had a little crush on him.
He sat near me in the class and we talked on a fairly regular basis. We seemed to get along well. He was a bit of a flirt with all of the girls, so he left a lot of openings for me to be able to pose the, “Would you like to have sex?” question.
Once I figured out the who, I needed to figure out the how. I knew I did not have the guts to just come right out and say it. I was way too much of a coward at that point to do that, and I knew if it was me who asked, it would make my already wild reputation like a million times worse. So, like any good scientist or predator, I waited for the right moment to put things in motion.
It was a lot easier than I thought. One day, after he had been out of class for a few days due to a sports injury, he was back in class fitted with a full leg cast that went from heel to the very top of his thigh. His leg was propped up on a chair in front of him and blocking my desk.
I asked him politely to move it, and he answered in his cheeky way, “No, I want you to straddle it.”
Without thinking I answered, “Not here, but maybe some other time.”
I could hear the words as they came out of my mouth, but I didn’t really believe they were actually my words coming out of my Pollyanna, pure as a lily, virgin mouth.
The look on his face was priceless. Like he wanted to believe I was joking, but he wasn’t sure. I don’t know if it was because of my reputation of being some kind of crazy dominatrix sexpot or it it was something in my tone, but he decided to believe me. The next thing I knew he was whispering to me, “What are you doing after class?”
“Going to your place.” I answered.
By the time class let out I had completely chickened out and had to buy myself more time. It was still early in the day, and before lunch, so when he came to collect me, I told him I had just remembered I had a test in my next class and could not miss it. Could we possibly move our meeting to lunch? He agreed and told me he would meet me in the hallway at a certain area after class.
I spent the whole next hour in a complete daze. I was in a tailspin of emotions. Everything I had done up to this point was to get to this place and now that it was about to happen I was completely freaking out.
I was asking myself questions like, “Should I do this? Should I wait until I’m really in love? Do I believe that people can actually fall in love and it isn’t just a hormonal and chemical response? Am I just too different to ever actually be in love with anyone or ever have anyone actually love me?”
By the time the bell rang and it was time to meet him in the hallway, I was ready. Actually, I would not use the word ready, I would say I was decided.
I was just going to do it and get it over with. Burst the bubble of mystery once and for all and move on with my life. He seemed like the perfect candidate and it could not have been a better opportunity, so I was going to do it.
I walked to our assigned meeting place, part of me was hoping he would not even show up, but the other part of me was bubbling with anticipation. I was full of butterflies and was quickly losing the ability to form complete sentences in my head.
He was there, leaning on his crutches with a giant grin across his face when he saw me, “You made it!”
Yes I did.
I don’t really remember going to his car, or driving to his house, but these things happened.
The next thing I recall is walking into his bedroom. It was clean, had dark wood accents and a giant waterbed in the middle of the room with navy blue sateen sheets.
Now, at this point in the story, I think it bears repeating that this boy had a cast all the way up to the top of his thigh. One of his legs was completely immobile. He has a WATERBED and slippery sateen sheets.
I could have not made this a worse scenario if I was making it up. Sex under these circumstances would be darn near impossible for me now, much less back then when I had NEVER even come close to having sex before. The only thing that could have made it worse would have been a panel of judges sitting at the foot of the bed with score cards.
I remember asking him if his leg hurt and he told me that he was on pretty strong pain killers so it didn’t bother him, that’s when he remembered that it was time for him to take more. He swallowed some pills, adding another obstacle to our already crazy situation, and turned on the radio.
I remember telling myself that it was really important to remember what was playing because these were the songs I was losing my virginity to. I don’t know if I was thinking I needed to make a mixed tape someday or what, but it seemed extremely important at the time.
“Are you on the pill?” he asked
I told him no, even though I was, because I wanted him to use a condom, especially after having just written seven pages on STDs for the school newspaper. I was completely skeeved out by it all.
He kissed me.
Our clothes came off and we were in the bed lying there side by side like a mom and dad on a TV sitcom.
It was strange and uncomfortable but exciting at the same time. His warm smile and soft voice is what got me through it. He had a natural way of making people at ease around him and it was a very handy trait at this point in time. I thought if I focused on his voice and smile it would get me through it.
The sex was weird, awkward and brief. We had a lot of things working against us, and go wrong, namely a waterbed, sateen sheets and a full leg cast.
It was over before the end of, What it Takes by Aerosmith, had finished playing on the radio.
Then we laid there for a minute and chatted. It was that nervous chatter that doesn’t really change after awkward sexual encounters: How has your day been? What is your favorite class? How soon before I can get up and get the hell out of here?
I remember thinking that I should tell him that this was my first time. That all of the rumors he had heard were not true and that I chose today to be the day and him to be the guy who would be my first.
I wanted to say those words, but when I opened my mouth I said, “I hardly ever do anything like this.”
WHAT!?!? Who?!? What the crap!?! It is like I just blurted out some bullshit I heard on a movie or something. Like I was some nonchalant lady, from the big city, who takes on lovers and throws them away at her whims. I could not believe I said the words, but once they were said, I could not un-say them.
I just turned, “This is my first time” into “This is business as usual”
After that, we got dressed and he drove me back to school.
We didn’t say anything on the drive back, but when we got to the school he turned to me. I think it was out of fear of what he was about to say to me that I told him, “Please keep this between us. I don’t want it to get around that this happened. Are we cool?”
It was like I was there, but there was some crazy bitch in the driver’s seat.
He looked surprised and agreed and we hugged and parted ways.
I remember having a lot of thoughts about it after it happened. Being surprised that I didn’t burst into flames of hellfire for what I did, surprised it was not earth shattering and we didn’t come out all sweaty and shiny like they do in the movies, but most of all surprised that I didn’t feel really anything.
I thought I would feel terribly guilty or somehow shamed, but instead I was overcome with one thought: “That’s it? That is sex? This is what everyone has been making such a big deal out of?!”
To this day, I never told the boy he was my first. I made a joke when he befriended me on Facebook that I should write him and tell him. Could you imagine how awkward that letter would be?
“So hey, I know it’s been nearly 20 years, but there is something I’ve always wanted to tell you...”
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
We looked everywhere, all night. Jon slept on the couch with the door open in hopes he would come back on his own. I woke up at 2AM and then 4AM to look again.
At 7AM I got up and went out in my PJ's and called for him again. This time he meowed. I found he was holed up in the neighbors crawl space under their house. There is only a tiny entrance, so it is impossible to get to him, but you could see him and pet him through the hole. (At one point the biggest ugliest Wolf spider came out that hole that I had been sticking my arm in all night. I won't even tell you how much THAT freaked me out.)
I sat with him for a while and he eventually came out enough for me to get him by the scruff. I went to pick him up and he freaked out at the smallest movement, took a chunk out of my arm and sprinted to the wooded area behind the house. It is all fenced off and very dense so I could not follow him. He meowed at me and watched me all pitifully from the other side of the fence, but I could not get to him.
Night two and three he spent back under the crawl space. Yesterday I rented a trap from Crown Hill Pet Supply. They were great. They rented it to me for only $3.50 per day and gave me tips on how to get him.
Last night I was up every two hours to check the trap. He was sleeping about a foot away from it with zero interest in going in. I finally put food in it and went to sleep. I got up around 7AM and ran out to the trap. Somehow, Moo got in the trap, ate all of the food and didn't trip the door, so he was well fed and escaped! I was so sad, that meant he was full and less likely to get back in the trap. I decided since I was renting it and had today off, I might as well give it one more try. I set it again with tuna and went back to getting Darian ready for school. At 9:30 I had to leave for the dentist and checked one last time, the trap had been tripped and a seriously angry Moo kitty was inside.
I actually cried because I was so relieved to bring him back home safe and sound. All of my muscles hurt from the stress of not sleeping and hunching down to talk to him in the crawl space. My back was so sore yesterday I almost could not get back up after crouching for a few hours.
Bringing him home was almost funny. The sound he was making from the cage was more human sounding than feline. He was MAD! When I got him in the house and he realized where he was, he calmed right down and headed to his favorite hiding spot in my clean clothes. Now he is passed out cold, probably exhausted from his ordeal. I'm so happy he is back home safe.
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
This last year has been a big blur.
First, the big news:
I'm very pleased to announce that I went out a few weeks ago and found myself a brand spanking new job at a cool office where everyone I've met so far are all super awesome people. I'm so happy about this new career direction!
I will be getting off work in the early part of the day and never again will I see the inside of an office on a Saturday or Sunday afternoon. I could not be more thrilled!
Here's a quick summary of the things we did in the Summer of 2009:
We slipped away to Chelan for my birthday weekend with our dear friends Licia and Todd. We went back on the same weekend that they were married last year.
We were able to get into a great condo. It was huge and had a glorious view of the water. The weather was around 100-103 the whole time we were there, but between the pool, the lake and the much loved and appreciated A/C we didn't even notice.
We spent four wonderful and relaxing days hanging out in the sun and surf and watching a variety of bad television and grilling lots of amazing super fresh seafood. It really was a dream.
We took two days to visit our dear friend, and Posies drummer, Darius in Vancouver, BC. We spent a few days there shopping, eating and relaxing, and got a chance to go see and catch up with the Death Cab folks while they were in town. They really are the nicest guys in rock!
Darian participated in a Whole Foods sponsored watermelon eating contest and placed 2nd! After eating a ridiculous amount of watermelon in under five minutes, I asked her how she felt, she answered, "I'm actually kind of hungry!"
Last week we went to Orcas Island and stayed with my Mom and WSF. Jon played a show while we were in town at a really cool little dinner theater called the Ecotopian. The show was well attended and the audience quite appreciative. We had a great night.
My mom rented us a cozy cottage that came complete with a huge bathtub fit for a goddess and a jacuzzi tub on the front deck. I could have stayed there for a month. I loved waking up in the morning and stepping out on the deck to see the sun coming up and the mist rolling across the beautiful lake. It really was right out of a book or a poem.
We came home and helped one of my closest friend's, Amie to celebrate her birthday. I love that girl. She is the frosting on my cupcake.
Then this last few days, our dear friend Mark and Suzy Mills have been in town visiting from London.
Jon has been showing them around town and I have been enjoying being domestic and cooking for them. They are vegetarians, so I've been able to show off all of my favorite veggie dishes. I told them I was running out of veggie dishes, so they were going home at the right time or else I would have gone into repeat mode. Must expand the vegetarian repertoire for their next visit!
I hope it is sooner than later!
We went to Bumpershoot for a little while yesterday. It was pouring down rain, so most of it was spent with very cold and wet feet. Not a good thing. We saw a few minutes of a few different bands, but nothing that I can really think to mention right now.
Jon played a hilariously funny Radio8Ball show. Where all of the answers were kind of dark and super funny. Someone asked about her relationship and the answer was 6 Feet Under. If you know the song, you know why I was in tears trying to control cracking up through the entire song.
Darian starts High School tomorrow! It seems like only yesterday I was feeling the same anxiety about the first day of Kindergarten. It all went by so fast. I'm sure she will do great, she has this whole school thing in the bag. I could not be more proud of her.
So, there you have it. New school year, new school, new job, amazing improved life. It was a Summer of endings and it is a Fall of exciting new beginnings!
Sunday, August 09, 2009
I borrowed this from Snotty.
If you’ve ever seen Inside the Actor’s Studio with James Lipton, you know he asks a series of personality questions toward the end of the show. This list of questions, based on the Proust questionnaire.
Your favorite virtue: kindness
Your favorite qualities in a man: Equal parts of sensitivity and passion
Your favorite qualities in a woman: loyalty and empathy
What you appreciate most about your friends: My true friends are the most loyal bunch you will ever meet, through thick and thin, no matter what. I'm closer to them that I am to most relatives.
Your main fault: I believe in people too soon.
Your favorite occupation: Homemaker or Rock Star
Your idea of happiness: Being surrounded by children and animals.
Your idea of misery: Being stuck in a room with a negative person for a long period of time.
If not yourself, who would you be: Holly GoLightly or Wonder Woman
Where would you like to live: New York and Paris
Your favorite color and flower: Any color. I think flowers are like perfect little works of art.
Your favorite prose authors: Huxley when I was a kid, but now, I don't really have one particular favorite.
Your favorite poets: I'm pretty fond of Dorothy Parker
Your favorite heroes in fiction: Wolverine and Dracula
Your favorite heroines in fiction: Cat Woman
Your favorite painters and composers: Dali, Picasso, etc... No one favorite.
Your heroes in real life: My dad has swept in and been my hero on many an occasion.
What characters in history do you most dislike: King Henry VIII. The more I read about him the less I like him. He was a greedy little pinch faced jerk. He was beheading women for nothing and blaming them when he didn't get a son. Up until the election little Georgie Bush ranked way up at the top of this list, but now I just try to pretend he never happened.
Your favorite heroines in World History: Audrey Hepburn, Queen Elizabeth (Daughter of Ann Boleyn), Queen Katherine (Henry's first wife who refused to back down and stuck to her principles until the day she died.)
Your favorite food and drink: Any form of cake and coffee with cream
Your favorite names: Darian, Devon and Dylan
What I hate the most: Stupid people who think they are smart enough to get away with stuff.
World history characters I hate the most: Hitler. Obvious.
The natural talent I’d like to be gifted with: I'd like to be a better singer. I can sing, just not as good as I'd like to.
How I wish to die: Very old and with my wits, surrounded by my children and my grandchildren.
What is your present state of mind: I'm in transition right now and am pretty focused on making things that need to happen, happen.
For what fault have you the most toleration: Funny, this comes up and all I can think about are the things that drive me crazy.
It would probably be a certain degree of laziness. I can't say I go to the gym or eat exactly how I should 100% of the time, so how can I judge others?
Wednesday, August 05, 2009
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Wednesday, July 08, 2009
Jul. 8th, 2004 | 08:34 am
In my dream I was going to my car in a parking garage where someone had parked far too close to me and sort of wedged my car in. As I went around the car to suss out the situation and try to figure out how I was going to get out I noticed an envelope with my name tucked under the wiper blade of the other car.
There was nothing in the envelope, but there was a letter to me scrawled on the other side. It had a letter written by someone I know telling me congratulations on the upcoming wedding and that they were very happy for me.
Then it said something like:
"I left this note for you because there is something I need you to know before you get married. I... and then they scribbled out whatever it was that was written. I was trying to make it out, but could only get bits and pieces like "more than you know" and the like.
Then at the bottom it read:
Thank you for reading this far, it means a lot.
Love- a man who just found out he was going to be a father and is scared to bits.
The whole thing really gave me the heebie jeebies. I know as I write it, on paper it doesn't sound freaky, but it really seemed that way to me when I first woke up.
In other news, I made 80 wedding favors last eve, went at got my brows waxed and cleaned the apartment. Only 3 more days, only 2 more days of this job!
Times they are a changin'
Monday, July 06, 2009
Jul. 6th, 2004 | 10:03 am
It is hard to sum up a person in a few words. You can only say who they were to you and your own perception of who they were as a whole. It is interesting seeing so many perspectives on one man.
When someone leaves this world and everyone starts sharing their stories, more pieces of this ever-evolving puzzle that is human spirit begins to emerge. The only things we have left of someone after they leave us are our memories. These memories have a limitless value. The stories and memories are the fingerprints we leave behind.
When I think of Gib, I think of a very kind man whom I not only had the pleasure to work with but someone who I also considered a friend.
He had a very fatherly quality about him. He would check in on me and he always remembered everything I told him about the goings on in my life. He was quick with good advice but never intrusive. He had so much love for his own kids that I think it spilled over onto any other young people who came into his life. The kindest thing he ever said to me was that he would have been very proud to have a daughter like me. That may have been one of the nicest compliments I have ever received.
He spoke so much and so highly about his wife Rebeca I felt as though I knew her even though we never met. It was obvious how much he was in love with her. His care and concern was not only touching, it was inspiring!
The last time we spoke, he told me to never forget just how important family is. To not let my child grow up without spending loads of time with her and to always let the people that I love, know just how much I love them. In retrospect, I think he may have known that that conversation might be the last I ever had with him, so his words carry even more weight. It was the push I needed to leave my job and follow my dream of writing and working from home and being with my family. I only wish he were here to call up and share the exciting news with. I know he would be proud and supportive, as is his way.
If I had to choose a single memory of him, I think I would choose when we went to dinner while at a trade show in Utah a couple of years back. We had just finished a huge meal and he kept saying he could not eat another bite he was far too full. Then the waiter brought us the dessert menu.
Gib ordered a piece of caramel covered cheesecake. When it arrived at the table it must have been the size of his head.
He said, “Oh no, that is so big, I could never eat it.” And then took to the task of consuming the entire thing!
Afterward, he leaned back in his chair with a huge grin and patted his now certainly full stomach and laughed, “You know, sometimes you just have to treat yourself, it is the only way to enjoy your life!”
To me that story sums up Gib O’Neill. To me he was a person that learned along the way just how important it is to allow yourself to completely enjoy the simple pleasures in life and not to take the unimportant things too seriously.
To always leave room for dessert.
Sunday, July 05, 2009
Things I've purchased that I saw on TV first:
Caruso Molecular Hairsetter: The first time I saw this infomercial I was about 18 years old. It had an actress from Days of Our lives doing the selling. It looked so easy and uncomplicated that I had to buy one, thus making it my very first purchase from TV.
I'm happy to say it worked better than I ever would have imagined and now, almost 20 years from my first purchase, I've owned 3 and use it at least 5 times per week.
They are getting harder and harder to find, and they are very different looking than the hot pink odd shaped version that I bought off the TV, but it is basically the same. If there ever comes a time where I can't replace it when the motor dies, I will be screwed in the hair department. I've seriously considered buying 10 just to have a lifetime back stock.
Rating: Does it do what it claims? Yes, Yes, a thousand times YES!
Smooth Away: On the infomercial for this product you see happy women exclaiming how they never have to shave again while using some sort of pink sanding device to painlessly remove their hair. Since shaving is not my favorite pastime, but I hate leg hair on me more, I thought I'd give this a try. It does work, the hair is eventually removed, EVENTUALLY being the operative word here.
I found it taking about 6xs as long to "Shave my legs" with this as it does with my lady Bic, and it is painless at first. About 5 minutes after I was done non-shaving with this device my skin started to burn. In trying to removed the hair, I basically gave myself a form of rug burn. Imagine how it feels after the first night of heavy making out with a guy with stubble. (Ladies, I KNOW you know what I'm talking about) that is how it feels. I only tried it on my legs, poor D started with her pits and could not put her arms down for the rest of the night.
Rating: Does it do what it claims? Yes, it removes hair
Painlessly or easily? Epic FAIL!
The Ultimate Chopper: A friend gave this to me as a gag gift after I told her about my obsession with infomercial products. They should re-name this product: The ultimate food masher. I would love to get a lengthy description, but mine broke the second time I tried to use it. The first time I managed to smash a tomato and to partially obliterate an onion the rest had to be knife cut.
Rating: The box was more interesting and useful than what was inside it.
Loud N Clear: It is a personal sound amplifier. On the commercial it shows a woman trying to watch TV while her husband is snoring away, I was sold. Does it amplify sound? Oh yes, it does. Could you hear someone from across the room quietly whispering about you? No. Not at all. In fact, if you turn it up loud enough to where you might be able to hear, and you are standing still enough to where nothing is rustling around the amp, you might be able to, but you are risking hearing loss the first time someone coughs nearby. Oh, it also has the charming habit of feeding back in your ear.
Rating: Sure, it amplifies sound, EVERY sound, if you don't mind risking hearing loss this is for you!
The Ped Egg: This "egg" claims to remove all of the dead nasty skin on your broke ass feet. It looks a lot like a Parmesan cheese grater, I'm not entirely convinced it is not. It works though, almost too well, and it comes in black "For Men". I bought one for Jon and he loves it too. Just don't rub until you hit blood, because you will!
Rating: Fun for the whole family!
Bare Minerals: Since the first time I used this stuff I've been in love. I've thrown out all of my other makeup and cringe at the thought of using liquid foundation ever again. Five years ago I would not leave the house without caking some sort of liquid foundation on. My skin was a mess and I was spending way too much on prescriptions and expensive bases to keep it clear. Since the first time I used Bare Minerals, I have not been to a doctor about my skin, and I have not even thought about using liquid foundation. It is just as amazing as they make it sound on TV. I've even converted several of my friends. My skin breaths and it doesn't break out anymore now that I'm not clogging it up with foundations. I can't say enough good stuff about it. It is certainly a desert island item. (That is if I cared what I looked like on said island)
Rating: Why would anyone ever use anything else?
Saturday, July 04, 2009
Jul. 4th, 2004 | 10:08 am
Things I need to buy before next weekend:
- Champagne Glasses
- Mother's Orchids
- Ivory Table Covering
- Pie server
- Fortune cookies
- 2 Guest Books (1 for ceremony site and one for reception site)
- 10 rolls of Joy Cam Film for Guest book
- Address book to keep on guest book table
- Gift for my friend Margot who is being the officiant
- Flower Girl gift
- Ring Bearer gift
- New Dress socks for Jon
- Gift for fathers
- Cases of soda
That is all we need and then we are ready.