I'm finding it difficult to part ways with the ever social butterfly life. I want it, and I miss it, but at the same time, I don't seem to be pursuing it anymore. I know I'm young. I know I have so much more life- in the way of late nights, dancing, loud socializing and the likes- inside of me. But I need to work on my inner self. I need to work on the silence. Inside I am restless, and not because I want to go out and go crazy, but because I want to find a sort of comfort and serenity that is yet to really be discovered. I need to rediscover peace within myself. I need to find assuredness, calmness, and acceptance within myself. I need to learn to be comfortable with myself again. I've grown distant from myself, and my true desire is to hang out with me - and to enjoy it.
I know walking away from some and distancing myself from others (even if it's not forever) may come back to haunt me, and when I return from this...I'll call it self-reflective journey, there may not be as many there for me to come back to. Still, I need to do this. I've spent too much time being worried about other's schedules, other's timing, and everyone else's pace of life to the point of neglecting my own pace and schedule. I've been living by everyone else's watch, and I need to learn to be okay with doing things for myself, without as much regard to other's schedules as I've given in the past.
That's all.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Monday, December 14, 2009
falling loveliness
I love that my rain boots can be considered "normal" footwear. I've missed the rain. I welcome the rain. The green I love cannot be without the storms, so I embrace it, I smile when the drops hit my cheeks, and I can't help but jump in the puddles.
The only downside to my rainboots...they've got holes. Christmas present?
Friday, November 13, 2009
Musical
You know the song from My Fair Lady, "I feel Pretty"? Well, if you take the prettiness of that song, add four gaping, throbbing holes into it's mouth, make it's brain mushier than the food it can chew, add about a week and a half's worth of leg hair, ashy skin, greasy hair on the head, a face that's getting paler by the minute, one or two fresh scabs from stubborn pimples and throw in a few new dimples on an ass from doing nothing but watching TV for a week, then you have how I feel.
...oh so pretty.
...oh so pretty.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Easy Livin'
I get my wisdom teeth pulled out tomorrow.
I've realized that I've never had anything even slightly major ever done, medically speaking. Well, there was that one time where they pumped my stomach, but that wasn't too bad. The worst injury I've ever had was probably when I sprained my arm at Chuck E. Cheese's when I was about five. I'm kind of bummed, actually, that I've never worn a cast or had crutches or stitches.
I'm just asking for trouble, aren't I?
I've realized that I've never had anything even slightly major ever done, medically speaking. Well, there was that one time where they pumped my stomach, but that wasn't too bad. The worst injury I've ever had was probably when I sprained my arm at Chuck E. Cheese's when I was about five. I'm kind of bummed, actually, that I've never worn a cast or had crutches or stitches.
I'm just asking for trouble, aren't I?
Sunday, October 25, 2009
They Exist
Hello.
I've been writing. Just not on here. I've been keeping to my goal of writing or sketching at night. Some nights I turn out the lights, lie in bed, set my laptop on my lap (appropriately so), close my eyes and let my fingers go to work. So often at night, my mind cannot settle down. It runs and runs, and seeing how my head is so tiny, it doesn't have very much space in which to run around, so I lengthen the trail from my brain to my fingertips, with an exit out to my computer.
So where are they?
I'm glad you asked. They're saved in a documents file, waiting to be cleaned up- writing in the dark is an invitation for misspellings and incoherent rambling. Plus, some very open and vulnerable stuff comes out at night, and I'm a little hesitant to share it all out in the judgemental blogosphere. I know this blog is for honest entries, but let's face it, it's still the Internet. I do have some parts of me that I'd like to keep to myself. Call it selfish, call me scared, it's my blog and I can do what I want, so take that.
I've been writing. Just not on here. I've been keeping to my goal of writing or sketching at night. Some nights I turn out the lights, lie in bed, set my laptop on my lap (appropriately so), close my eyes and let my fingers go to work. So often at night, my mind cannot settle down. It runs and runs, and seeing how my head is so tiny, it doesn't have very much space in which to run around, so I lengthen the trail from my brain to my fingertips, with an exit out to my computer.
So where are they?
I'm glad you asked. They're saved in a documents file, waiting to be cleaned up- writing in the dark is an invitation for misspellings and incoherent rambling. Plus, some very open and vulnerable stuff comes out at night, and I'm a little hesitant to share it all out in the judgemental blogosphere. I know this blog is for honest entries, but let's face it, it's still the Internet. I do have some parts of me that I'd like to keep to myself. Call it selfish, call me scared, it's my blog and I can do what I want, so take that.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
A Good Idea
Despite the lack of updates, I am constantly on my blog page. Doing what, you may ask? Oh, just staring mostly. Maybe hoping a new entry magically appeared, drenched in cheeky prose and riddled with fancy adjectives. Alas, every time I check, it's still the same last entry. Magic my ass.
Ok, so I probably shouldn't blame my lack of magical abilities, but more so my drive and focus. I need to be more disciplined. So I have an idea. Actually, I'm stealing an idea from Amy Earles. She's an artist who's work I've bought, who's blog I read, and who's artistic drive I really admire. She usually has a sketch pad by her bedside, and draws before she goes to bed. Great idea. I usually read before I go to bed, but now writing (and drawing) will be my new nighttime activity. Feel free to steal what I've stolen, and tweak it to fit your own needs.
Ok, so I probably shouldn't blame my lack of magical abilities, but more so my drive and focus. I need to be more disciplined. So I have an idea. Actually, I'm stealing an idea from Amy Earles. She's an artist who's work I've bought, who's blog I read, and who's artistic drive I really admire. She usually has a sketch pad by her bedside, and draws before she goes to bed. Great idea. I usually read before I go to bed, but now writing (and drawing) will be my new nighttime activity. Feel free to steal what I've stolen, and tweak it to fit your own needs.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Today...
Today...
> I feel like I'm high on something. I've been in a fog all day long- zoning out, stopping in mid-sentence. It's like my mind and my body are going in opposite directions.
> I couldn't relax during my chiropractic massage until Katherine did some wacky positional release movement on my neck. The relief I felt was so intense, I felt as if I had just finished having a huge sob session, and was ready to just curl up into a blanket and sleep.
> I had to draw a scene that included a giant tub of Greek yogurt. I didn't like what I drew, and I'm probably going to scrap the whole thing. I couldn't think of anything inspiring, and while I was trying to brainstorm,images of chickens kept creeping into my head. I wanted to draw chickens.
> I didn't draw any chickens.
> I feel like the sky looks like a blank piece of recycled paper, and I like it. It's like someone drew me, my house, and my street, and nothing else exists. If I travel outside of my 8 1/2 by 11 inch world, I'll fall into oblivion. It's my own little isolated world, and today, that makes me feel peaceful.
> I enjoyed my lunch outside in the rain.
> there was a man in the waiting area of my chiropractor's office. He kept flirting with the receptionist and it was making her feel uncomfortable. Then he started flirting with the clinic's masseuse. She felt uncomfortable, too. All of this was making me feel uncomfortable.
> I felt kind of frumpy when I realized that the guy in the office was not going to flirt with me.
> my pants are too big, and my shirt is too tight.
> I'm really craving crab, or sushi.
> I've had "The Wind" by Cat Stevens stuck in my head all day long. It makes me want to play the guitar better.
> I've noticed my breathing more than on other days.
> Chickens are pecking their way back into my brain. I think I should draw some chickens.
> I feel like I'm high on something. I've been in a fog all day long- zoning out, stopping in mid-sentence. It's like my mind and my body are going in opposite directions.
> I couldn't relax during my chiropractic massage until Katherine did some wacky positional release movement on my neck. The relief I felt was so intense, I felt as if I had just finished having a huge sob session, and was ready to just curl up into a blanket and sleep.
> I had to draw a scene that included a giant tub of Greek yogurt. I didn't like what I drew, and I'm probably going to scrap the whole thing. I couldn't think of anything inspiring, and while I was trying to brainstorm,images of chickens kept creeping into my head. I wanted to draw chickens.
> I didn't draw any chickens.
> I feel like the sky looks like a blank piece of recycled paper, and I like it. It's like someone drew me, my house, and my street, and nothing else exists. If I travel outside of my 8 1/2 by 11 inch world, I'll fall into oblivion. It's my own little isolated world, and today, that makes me feel peaceful.
> I enjoyed my lunch outside in the rain.
> there was a man in the waiting area of my chiropractor's office. He kept flirting with the receptionist and it was making her feel uncomfortable. Then he started flirting with the clinic's masseuse. She felt uncomfortable, too. All of this was making me feel uncomfortable.
> I felt kind of frumpy when I realized that the guy in the office was not going to flirt with me.
> my pants are too big, and my shirt is too tight.
> I'm really craving crab, or sushi.
> I've had "The Wind" by Cat Stevens stuck in my head all day long. It makes me want to play the guitar better.
> I've noticed my breathing more than on other days.
> Chickens are pecking their way back into my brain. I think I should draw some chickens.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
New York City
Now that Greg is home, I have my camera back. So now, ladies and gentlemen (or the three of you that read these), I can share some of my photos from my trip to New York City....
We took a ferry to the Statue of Liberty. It had been sprinkling all day long, but I kid you not, the minute we stepped foot on the island, it started POURING. Luckily, I had bought a cheap umbrella from a stand in the city. Unluckily, it was a really cheap umbrella that kept flipping inside out. We were soaked by the time we were done with the tour.
I love Central Park. I had gone there the last time we visited NYC, and even though there are so many other sites to visit, I wanted to go back to the park. Greg teased me: "You've traveled across the country, from a state that's filled with parks, and you want to hang out at a park." What can I say? I love parks. But Central Park is way beyond an ordinary park. We ended up walking around the park for hours. Wow, this caption has the word "park" in it a lot.
Ok, don't laugh, but this was at another park. This time, it was Greg that wanted to stop at the park. It's called High Line Park. It stands about thirty feet above the city streets, on top of an old railroad line. The top photo was taken under a covering, and I thought the glass in the background was interesting. I thought the integration of urban and wild was well done.
There are many beautiful cathedrals in New York. We passed by a few, but the Cathedral of Saint John the Divine was one we really wanted to see . It was enormous and absolutely stunning. The unique blend of Romanesque and Gothic style gave the cathedral a look that was uniquely it's own. We tried taking a lot of pictures inside, but alas, my little Casio camera does not take the best pictures in dim lighting. Yes, I'm blaming the camera and not it's operators.
One positive about the rainy weather was the gorgeous night sky enhanced by the city lights and the hazy clouds. I shot these as we were walking back to the hotel. The ACE is only a couple blocks from the Empire State Building. Greg had been frequenting a Walgreen's while he was in NYC. It was about day three when he took another exit of Walgreen's and POW!- he was in the front lobby of the Empire State Building.
We took a ferry to the Statue of Liberty. It had been sprinkling all day long, but I kid you not, the minute we stepped foot on the island, it started POURING. Luckily, I had bought a cheap umbrella from a stand in the city. Unluckily, it was a really cheap umbrella that kept flipping inside out. We were soaked by the time we were done with the tour.
I love Central Park. I had gone there the last time we visited NYC, and even though there are so many other sites to visit, I wanted to go back to the park. Greg teased me: "You've traveled across the country, from a state that's filled with parks, and you want to hang out at a park." What can I say? I love parks. But Central Park is way beyond an ordinary park. We ended up walking around the park for hours. Wow, this caption has the word "park" in it a lot.
Ok, don't laugh, but this was at another park. This time, it was Greg that wanted to stop at the park. It's called High Line Park. It stands about thirty feet above the city streets, on top of an old railroad line. The top photo was taken under a covering, and I thought the glass in the background was interesting. I thought the integration of urban and wild was well done.
There are many beautiful cathedrals in New York. We passed by a few, but the Cathedral of Saint John the Divine was one we really wanted to see . It was enormous and absolutely stunning. The unique blend of Romanesque and Gothic style gave the cathedral a look that was uniquely it's own. We tried taking a lot of pictures inside, but alas, my little Casio camera does not take the best pictures in dim lighting. Yes, I'm blaming the camera and not it's operators.
One positive about the rainy weather was the gorgeous night sky enhanced by the city lights and the hazy clouds. I shot these as we were walking back to the hotel. The ACE is only a couple blocks from the Empire State Building. Greg had been frequenting a Walgreen's while he was in NYC. It was about day three when he took another exit of Walgreen's and POW!- he was in the front lobby of the Empire State Building.
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Free Write: Trailing off and Back Again
The clouds are gray and heavy. The ground is drowning in a endless rainfall. The house is dark and quiet, except for the tick tock ticking of the clock on the wall. I'm trying to start my day, but I feel like it is already night. I am not entirely sure how I'm feeling at this moment- content? Drained? Lonely? Rested? Calm? Tired? My heart is slowly beating, my lids are heavy, my breath is deep and steady. Peaceful. Not ecstatic. The rain is soothing, needed, and welcomed, but it's working too well. I am becoming lethargic, indolent, slow-moving. I am a sloth. I like sloths. Sloths are cute. There is a tea house I like to frequent, and the welcome sign has a painting of a sloth, and he's enjoying tea with his other animal friends. I like that painting. My cat has been letting out a whining meow every forty-seven seconds for the last two hours. I am at my breaking point with him...I don't know what that means. He is breaking the calm, the meow is piercing this silent home, and drowning out the methodical tick tock ticking of my old clock. I like my clock. I like the painting of the sloth more.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
(Almost) Success
Last night was my first night of cooking dinner in the new house.
There were few catastrophes.
The meal consisted of lemon pepper and herb chicken atop a bed of orzo and sauteed mushrooms, with an heirloom tomato and cucumber salad. The salad turned out great. The chicken was tasty, but a little dry (I always worry about under cooking chicken), and the orzo - which should have been the easiest part- was salvageable.
I guess I don't read directions well. I looked at the package of orzo (yes, I needed to read the package to see how to cook pasta), and saw: In a large pot, add four cups of water and heat to a rolling boil". Well, I added four cups of water and a little broth for added flavor, allowed it to hit a rolling boil, added the orzo, and waited for the water to return to a boil. Seems simple enough. But no, not for my poor misguided brain. As the orzo cooked, I noticed less and less liquid seemed to be in the pot. Now, I've made spaghetti, penne, and many other more common pastas plenty of times- I know what it's supposed to look like- and this looked wrong.
Just plain wrong.
I reached for the empty package and re-read the directions: Add four QUARTS of water to a large pot.
Dammit!
I quickly heated more liquid in a separate container, and then added that liquid to the already heated pasta. In the end, it tasted all right, but there was a good amount of orzo charred on the bottom of the pot. Pot ruined. Small oopsie, but it did make me a little discouraged. Well, I guess discouraged is the wrong word. I'll say, rather, it made me realize that I need to pay better attention to directions. When it comes to making my way around a kitchen, I am the man who constantly gets lost and refuses to ask for directions. Lesson learned.
There were few catastrophes.
The meal consisted of lemon pepper and herb chicken atop a bed of orzo and sauteed mushrooms, with an heirloom tomato and cucumber salad. The salad turned out great. The chicken was tasty, but a little dry (I always worry about under cooking chicken), and the orzo - which should have been the easiest part- was salvageable.
I guess I don't read directions well. I looked at the package of orzo (yes, I needed to read the package to see how to cook pasta), and saw: In a large pot, add four cups of water and heat to a rolling boil". Well, I added four cups of water and a little broth for added flavor, allowed it to hit a rolling boil, added the orzo, and waited for the water to return to a boil. Seems simple enough. But no, not for my poor misguided brain. As the orzo cooked, I noticed less and less liquid seemed to be in the pot. Now, I've made spaghetti, penne, and many other more common pastas plenty of times- I know what it's supposed to look like- and this looked wrong.
Just plain wrong.
I reached for the empty package and re-read the directions: Add four QUARTS of water to a large pot.
Dammit!
I quickly heated more liquid in a separate container, and then added that liquid to the already heated pasta. In the end, it tasted all right, but there was a good amount of orzo charred on the bottom of the pot. Pot ruined. Small oopsie, but it did make me a little discouraged. Well, I guess discouraged is the wrong word. I'll say, rather, it made me realize that I need to pay better attention to directions. When it comes to making my way around a kitchen, I am the man who constantly gets lost and refuses to ask for directions. Lesson learned.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Baby Steps
I am setting a small goal for myself. Very small. Teeny tiny, but for me, it's a good step in self-improvement. Are you ready for it? Are your inner drum rolls a-rolling?
I am going to cook a meal once a week.
Insert "oohs" and "ahhs" here.
I know, I know. For many people, perhaps everyone, this is not a feat that deems much recognition. For me, it is an accomplishment I can be happy with. I don't cook. I don't think I've cooked a real meal in my new house- ever. Tonight my dinner consisted of Flaming Hot Cheetos and a couple glasses of water, and a meal of this caliber is a normal occurrence. NOT something to be happy with. I'm not talking gourmet here (maybe gourmet every now and then, but let's not get ahead of ourselves), just a meal that involves more than piercing film with a fork and a microwave. So I will plan. I will try. I will cook. I will shine.
Baby steps, people. Baby steps.
I am going to cook a meal once a week.
Insert "oohs" and "ahhs" here.
I know, I know. For many people, perhaps everyone, this is not a feat that deems much recognition. For me, it is an accomplishment I can be happy with. I don't cook. I don't think I've cooked a real meal in my new house- ever. Tonight my dinner consisted of Flaming Hot Cheetos and a couple glasses of water, and a meal of this caliber is a normal occurrence. NOT something to be happy with. I'm not talking gourmet here (maybe gourmet every now and then, but let's not get ahead of ourselves), just a meal that involves more than piercing film with a fork and a microwave. So I will plan. I will try. I will cook. I will shine.
Baby steps, people. Baby steps.
Friday, August 7, 2009
Out on Holiday
Life is too short to sit inside and blog. Well, maybe that's a little too dramatic. Let me try again...
Portland summers are too short to sit inside and blog.
That's better.
I've been under the sun, soaking up rays, floating in rivers, strolling through street festivals, and just admiring the beauty that is an Oregon summer.
My brain is too focused on "WEEEEEE! SUMMER!" to try and put fluid thoughts onto the screen.
I'll be back when the weather cools, the sky becomes gray, and everything feels damp and depressing- so goth. I do my best work when I'm feeling goth.
Portland summers are too short to sit inside and blog.
That's better.
I've been under the sun, soaking up rays, floating in rivers, strolling through street festivals, and just admiring the beauty that is an Oregon summer.
My brain is too focused on "WEEEEEE! SUMMER!" to try and put fluid thoughts onto the screen.
I'll be back when the weather cools, the sky becomes gray, and everything feels damp and depressing- so goth. I do my best work when I'm feeling goth.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
I Want to Illustrate a Moment From This
Last night I dreamt I attended a reunion with all of my theater friends. The event was held under a moonlit sky in the middle of a corporate building's parking lot. Everyone was there, and everyone looked the same, just taller.
Shortly after arriving, little gnomes started to appear from nowhere. After a moment's time there were hundreds of them. The party guests were not worried from this, nor were they excited. It seemed as if I was the only one who actually noticed them. One, two, three, three hundred stout and pudgy gnomes, all wearing identical yellow long-sleeved shirts, blue trousers and pointy red hats. Their faces were also identical to one another- rosy cheeks, bulbous nose, gray hair, yet a somewhat youthful face. I looked to the tables set up near the corner of the parking lot- gnomes were popping up like a game of whack-a-mole. I turned to look at some of my friends- gnomes were darting past their knees, swift and unnoticed by all but me. I lifted my gaze to the rooftop of the corporate building- a chorus line of gnomes, all in silence, their painted smiles and glossy eyes staring at me, and their bodies swaying in unison- left, right, left right. I watched the rooftop gnomes for a while, half wondering if they were the paid entertainment, and half wondering if they would offer me a hat.
They never gave me a hat.
Shortly after arriving, little gnomes started to appear from nowhere. After a moment's time there were hundreds of them. The party guests were not worried from this, nor were they excited. It seemed as if I was the only one who actually noticed them. One, two, three, three hundred stout and pudgy gnomes, all wearing identical yellow long-sleeved shirts, blue trousers and pointy red hats. Their faces were also identical to one another- rosy cheeks, bulbous nose, gray hair, yet a somewhat youthful face. I looked to the tables set up near the corner of the parking lot- gnomes were popping up like a game of whack-a-mole. I turned to look at some of my friends- gnomes were darting past their knees, swift and unnoticed by all but me. I lifted my gaze to the rooftop of the corporate building- a chorus line of gnomes, all in silence, their painted smiles and glossy eyes staring at me, and their bodies swaying in unison- left, right, left right. I watched the rooftop gnomes for a while, half wondering if they were the paid entertainment, and half wondering if they would offer me a hat.
They never gave me a hat.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
To Say the Least...
Let me tell you about a recent embarrassing moment....
Greg and I spent a lovely Friday afternoon hiking at Oneonta Gorge. We waded through clear streams, admired waterfalls, and had a grand ol' time with Mother Nature. At one point on our hike, the path forked into two paths. One let you continue on the main trail, while the other led you down to a beautiful cliff that allowed a great view of Triple Falls (three waterfalls in one- clever.). Greg and I decided to take a breather and head down to the viewing spot. As we headed down the path, a nice older gentleman was heading up. We smiled and said our polite hellos and continued on our merry way. It was a great spot.
I sat down to rest my legs for a few minutes. Soon after sitting, I felt a little tickle on my left leg. I looked down and saw a creepy looking copper colored bug crawling up my thigh. I quickly swatted my hand across my thigh, hoping to get it off me. It fell off my leg, but it looked (and felt) like it fell right into my skirt, and onto my ::ahem:: lady part.
I freaked out.
I jumped up and started running in small circles, screaming over and over "Oh my God, it went in my crotch! IT'S IN MY VAGINA!!" I then lifted my skirt over my waist, skivvies in full view, and continued to scream and flail my limbs wildly, hoping that this desperate act would ensure my body being bug free. It was in the middle of this dance that Greg tapped me on my shoulder and said, "Hey....Krisha?"
"What?!"
Greg then pointed behind me. I turned around, and to my surprise, saw the nice old man, camera in hand (but not to his eye. He wasn't a pervert.) and a look of shock on his face. He had seen the whole thing.
Instantly, I lowered my skirt, turned back around and buried my embarrassed face in my hands. Greg laughed and took pictures.
Greg and I spent a lovely Friday afternoon hiking at Oneonta Gorge. We waded through clear streams, admired waterfalls, and had a grand ol' time with Mother Nature. At one point on our hike, the path forked into two paths. One let you continue on the main trail, while the other led you down to a beautiful cliff that allowed a great view of Triple Falls (three waterfalls in one- clever.). Greg and I decided to take a breather and head down to the viewing spot. As we headed down the path, a nice older gentleman was heading up. We smiled and said our polite hellos and continued on our merry way. It was a great spot.
I sat down to rest my legs for a few minutes. Soon after sitting, I felt a little tickle on my left leg. I looked down and saw a creepy looking copper colored bug crawling up my thigh. I quickly swatted my hand across my thigh, hoping to get it off me. It fell off my leg, but it looked (and felt) like it fell right into my skirt, and onto my ::ahem:: lady part.
I freaked out.
I jumped up and started running in small circles, screaming over and over "Oh my God, it went in my crotch! IT'S IN MY VAGINA!!" I then lifted my skirt over my waist, skivvies in full view, and continued to scream and flail my limbs wildly, hoping that this desperate act would ensure my body being bug free. It was in the middle of this dance that Greg tapped me on my shoulder and said, "Hey....Krisha?"
"What?!"
Greg then pointed behind me. I turned around, and to my surprise, saw the nice old man, camera in hand (but not to his eye. He wasn't a pervert.) and a look of shock on his face. He had seen the whole thing.
Instantly, I lowered my skirt, turned back around and buried my embarrassed face in my hands. Greg laughed and took pictures.
Monday, July 6, 2009
What I Should Be Doing
My sister-in-law is coming to town! Although the visit will be short, I'm really looking forward to the time we will have.
Greg and I have been getting the guest bedroom all set up. Currently it has been used as our giant walk-in closet. Since we had decided to fix up the master bedroom first, all of our clothes and any extras were thrown into that spare room. Well, now we have to put a person in it, so we actually have to be productive and create a room that's more of an enjoyment than a punishment to stay in. I swear, if we didn't have guests coming over, we'd probably never get motivated to fix that room up. So earlier today, I started hauling our storage containers back up to the master bedroom, and about five minutes into working, I tripped on the stairs and twisted my ankle. Don't worry, it's not serious. It just hurts like a bitch, and now it's really difficult to carry things up and down the stairs. Now, Greg is doing all the work, and I feel like dead weight. Although it hurts my ankle to put too much weight on it, I can't help but feel guilty for not being able to help out more. What I should be doing, rather than typing away, is sucking it up and helping out. What hurts more, feeling guilty or walking up and down stairs? I'm not sure.
Greg and I have been getting the guest bedroom all set up. Currently it has been used as our giant walk-in closet. Since we had decided to fix up the master bedroom first, all of our clothes and any extras were thrown into that spare room. Well, now we have to put a person in it, so we actually have to be productive and create a room that's more of an enjoyment than a punishment to stay in. I swear, if we didn't have guests coming over, we'd probably never get motivated to fix that room up. So earlier today, I started hauling our storage containers back up to the master bedroom, and about five minutes into working, I tripped on the stairs and twisted my ankle. Don't worry, it's not serious. It just hurts like a bitch, and now it's really difficult to carry things up and down the stairs. Now, Greg is doing all the work, and I feel like dead weight. Although it hurts my ankle to put too much weight on it, I can't help but feel guilty for not being able to help out more. What I should be doing, rather than typing away, is sucking it up and helping out. What hurts more, feeling guilty or walking up and down stairs? I'm not sure.
Monday, June 29, 2009
By the Way
The raspberry crumble was DEEEEELICIOUS!
I'm probably going to continue to make more crumbles, as both Greg and I really enjoyed it, and if anyone knows Greg and his taste buds, that's a feat to be recognized. A special thanks to Brook and her recipe, her kitchen, and her patience with my lack of culinary skills. Also, thanks for the suggestions on what to do with our extra berries. I think I'll check out donations (thanks, Alethea), or maybe I'll just make crumbles and take them to the streets- skip the middleman.
By the way, it's been gorgeous these past few days. Nothing but smiles, berries and sunshine. Let's hope this trend keeps going.
I actually had something more specific on my mind, but it is currently distracted by the sounds of the television, Greg munching on potato chips, Edgar's tail wagging in front of the computer screen, and my desire to go upstairs and read my book Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.
I'm probably going to continue to make more crumbles, as both Greg and I really enjoyed it, and if anyone knows Greg and his taste buds, that's a feat to be recognized. A special thanks to Brook and her recipe, her kitchen, and her patience with my lack of culinary skills. Also, thanks for the suggestions on what to do with our extra berries. I think I'll check out donations (thanks, Alethea), or maybe I'll just make crumbles and take them to the streets- skip the middleman.
By the way, it's been gorgeous these past few days. Nothing but smiles, berries and sunshine. Let's hope this trend keeps going.
I actually had something more specific on my mind, but it is currently distracted by the sounds of the television, Greg munching on potato chips, Edgar's tail wagging in front of the computer screen, and my desire to go upstairs and read my book Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Razz-A-Matazz
Our raspberries are popping up in full force! I'm off to my friend's house to try out her crumble recipe (known to me as fruit-crumbly-awesomeness), and I've got a bowl full of fresh picked berries ready to be transformed into dessert goodness. I've also got a crap-load of raspberries that'll be ripe in a few more days, and other than just eating them straight off the bush, I'm not sure what to do with them.
Any ideas? Recipes? Suggestions?
Monday, June 15, 2009
Try Part 2
People like to tell me that they admire my confidence, and they like that I know who I am, and I'm not afraid nor ashamed to show it. As flattered as I am by a compliment this great, I must admit that I am still figuring out who Krisha is. I have a pretty good idea, and I can say that everyone is always evolving, always learning new things about ourselves, so we can never truly know ourselves, but I think I still have a long way to go. I am confident in many areas. I speak my mind plenty of times, and I'm not afraid to show my silly side, or to look ugly every now and then. But in so many other ways, artistically, sexually, beautifully, gracefully, I run and hide.
One of the areas I'd really like to work on is my body image. As silly as it sounds, I deny myself the simple pleasure of wearing whatever the hell I want because I become too shy or too hard on myself about my body. Constantly do I put on an outfit, wear it for a few minutes, then shake my head and tell myself, "you look stupid" or "I look like I'm trying to hard. My friends are going to comment on how I look different, and I don't want them to say anything". Then I change back into my comfort zone. Well, I have finally decided to take some steps toward changing my ways. Last Saturday I went out without any clothes on at all.
How's that for a step?
Last Saturday was the annual World Naked Bike Ride and I, yes I was a part of the naked action!
OK, I'll admit, I was wearing some clothes. I donned a helmet (safety first), my 20-hole Dr. Martin's, and my Oregon-loving skivvies (it says "The Beaver State" on the front and "I Love Oregon" across the bum)...and that's all, folks.
Let me tell you a little bit about my night....
The ride began at midnight, and several hours before that, I was enjoying the company of good friends, worrying the night away. My nerves for what was to come later that night were getting the best of me. I will confess that I did need a little liquid courage to help me calm my nerves, but my mind was still racing with thoughts of the worst: What if I fall? No one looks good when they fall, but falling naked? That would suck. What if I can't keep up with the rest of the riders, and I end up cycling all by myself- naked? Aaaggghhh! But my friends reassured me that everything would be alright.
We had planned on wearing costumes that night- we are in Portland, after all. Along with the aforementioned few items I wore, I had planned on also wearing my aviator goggles and a cape. As the night continued on, and as more and more great socializing happened pre-naked ride, we lost track of time and wound up running late, so we quickly had to grab our bikes, strip down and hit the road.
As the riders got into position, a marching band played us off and the ride began. A flurry of flesh, tape, skivvies and chrome, slowly rolled onto the streets of Downtown Portland. There were easily over a thousand participants. It was exhilarating, to say the least. Wearing not much more than the smile on my face, I pedaled to my heart's content. Several minutes passed and as we got deeper and deeper into downtown, crowds started emerging from the nightclubs and restaurants, all wondering what exactly it was they were witnessing. By the time we were in the heart of downtown, the number of spectators had turned from a few onlookers to hundreds and hundreds of people. Many were cheering, giving us high-fives, or just standing there speechless, unable to believe what they were seeing. I saw a few spectators mouthing "oh my GOD!" into their cell phones, trying to quickly describe to the other line what was happening. It was the ride of a lifetime.
I loved every minute of the ride! I loved being a part of riding in celebration to deliver a vision of a cleaner, safer, body-positive world to the masses- to show how fragile we can be in comparison to cars, so we must drive with care and compassion when we share the road with bikers. I loved that during the ride, I was never afraid nor was I ashamed to show off my body. I loved it.
Now, whenever I start to feel shy, intimidated or self-conscious in any situation, I can look back at this and say, "What's there to be nervous about? You rode through Downtown Portland naked, for Christ's sake! You can do this, too."
One of the areas I'd really like to work on is my body image. As silly as it sounds, I deny myself the simple pleasure of wearing whatever the hell I want because I become too shy or too hard on myself about my body. Constantly do I put on an outfit, wear it for a few minutes, then shake my head and tell myself, "you look stupid" or "I look like I'm trying to hard. My friends are going to comment on how I look different, and I don't want them to say anything". Then I change back into my comfort zone. Well, I have finally decided to take some steps toward changing my ways. Last Saturday I went out without any clothes on at all.
How's that for a step?
Last Saturday was the annual World Naked Bike Ride and I, yes I was a part of the naked action!
OK, I'll admit, I was wearing some clothes. I donned a helmet (safety first), my 20-hole Dr. Martin's, and my Oregon-loving skivvies (it says "The Beaver State" on the front and "I Love Oregon" across the bum)...and that's all, folks.
Let me tell you a little bit about my night....
The ride began at midnight, and several hours before that, I was enjoying the company of good friends, worrying the night away. My nerves for what was to come later that night were getting the best of me. I will confess that I did need a little liquid courage to help me calm my nerves, but my mind was still racing with thoughts of the worst: What if I fall? No one looks good when they fall, but falling naked? That would suck. What if I can't keep up with the rest of the riders, and I end up cycling all by myself- naked? Aaaggghhh! But my friends reassured me that everything would be alright.
We had planned on wearing costumes that night- we are in Portland, after all. Along with the aforementioned few items I wore, I had planned on also wearing my aviator goggles and a cape. As the night continued on, and as more and more great socializing happened pre-naked ride, we lost track of time and wound up running late, so we quickly had to grab our bikes, strip down and hit the road.
As the riders got into position, a marching band played us off and the ride began. A flurry of flesh, tape, skivvies and chrome, slowly rolled onto the streets of Downtown Portland. There were easily over a thousand participants. It was exhilarating, to say the least. Wearing not much more than the smile on my face, I pedaled to my heart's content. Several minutes passed and as we got deeper and deeper into downtown, crowds started emerging from the nightclubs and restaurants, all wondering what exactly it was they were witnessing. By the time we were in the heart of downtown, the number of spectators had turned from a few onlookers to hundreds and hundreds of people. Many were cheering, giving us high-fives, or just standing there speechless, unable to believe what they were seeing. I saw a few spectators mouthing "oh my GOD!" into their cell phones, trying to quickly describe to the other line what was happening. It was the ride of a lifetime.
I loved every minute of the ride! I loved being a part of riding in celebration to deliver a vision of a cleaner, safer, body-positive world to the masses- to show how fragile we can be in comparison to cars, so we must drive with care and compassion when we share the road with bikers. I loved that during the ride, I was never afraid nor was I ashamed to show off my body. I loved it.
Now, whenever I start to feel shy, intimidated or self-conscious in any situation, I can look back at this and say, "What's there to be nervous about? You rode through Downtown Portland naked, for Christ's sake! You can do this, too."
Friday, June 12, 2009
Try
Sometimes in life, we need to change things up a bit. Try something new, maybe go outside of our comfort zone. This weekend, I'm going to try that. I have a goal in mind- there's an activity involved, and I will give myself a great big high five if I do it. If I don't, I'm lame.
Stay tuned....
Stay tuned....
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Unsatisfying Venting
There are people I have come across in my life, and no matter what I do to distract myself from them, they keep sliding into my mind. It's not a toying of my heart. It's not someone who is particularly intriguing, and they certainly do not please me. It's quite the opposite. They drive me crazy with anger and frustration. I know, I know- it's ugly to feel this way. I'm not usually hell bent on disliking someone. They don't even play a real role in my life- they interrupt others' lives. They are a part of lives that I DO care about. Lives that are constantly teased, tested and tormented because of these people are why my mind races with thoughts of .....
anger.
Just anger.
I don't like feeling this way. I don't know how to get them out of my head. I want them out of my head, not just to let the anger go, but to also keep from giving them the satisfaction of having another person pay attention to them. Attention is what they want, and I hate that I pay attention to them. They don't need my attention. I don't want to give them my attention.
How do I let it go?
Do I vent? Do I yell at them? Do I pour out specifics on this blog, allowing this ugliness to leak out for others to see? Do I need other people to see it- people who are not involved? Hell, I'm not even involved in the situations that make my frustrations develop, but I just can't help it. I'd feel like a bitch if I call out people, name names and tell them that I think these people are fooling no one when they claim to be a victim- when they claim to be justifying their actions based on protecting the feelings of the people they supposedly care about. I want to call them out and cry, "bullshit!" But not only do I think I would feel like I'm being a bitch, but (and maybe even more so) I feel like my words would fall upon deaf ears.
And, of course, it would be cowardly to just bitch and moan about someone, whilst never confronting the actual culprit. Still, why should I care about these people? They have not shown concern for others, so should I show concern for their feelings?
Yes. I am not them.
So what do I do? Why do I care? I am not involved.
Sometimes I fight harder for others than for myself. When someone hurts me personally, I deal with it. When someone hurts someone I care about- I go crazy. This is why I get so angry. I see others getting hurt. I see others being made a fool. I see others being taken advantage of. I see others getting their hearts broken. I watch it all, and I feel like my hands are tied. Not knowing if my words would ever help, I just stay angry, and I'm afraid that my anger will subside only when these people stop the emotional destruction they so selfishly create.
Man, sometimes I wish I could be okay with being the bitch.
anger.
Just anger.
I don't like feeling this way. I don't know how to get them out of my head. I want them out of my head, not just to let the anger go, but to also keep from giving them the satisfaction of having another person pay attention to them. Attention is what they want, and I hate that I pay attention to them. They don't need my attention. I don't want to give them my attention.
How do I let it go?
Do I vent? Do I yell at them? Do I pour out specifics on this blog, allowing this ugliness to leak out for others to see? Do I need other people to see it- people who are not involved? Hell, I'm not even involved in the situations that make my frustrations develop, but I just can't help it. I'd feel like a bitch if I call out people, name names and tell them that I think these people are fooling no one when they claim to be a victim- when they claim to be justifying their actions based on protecting the feelings of the people they supposedly care about. I want to call them out and cry, "bullshit!" But not only do I think I would feel like I'm being a bitch, but (and maybe even more so) I feel like my words would fall upon deaf ears.
And, of course, it would be cowardly to just bitch and moan about someone, whilst never confronting the actual culprit. Still, why should I care about these people? They have not shown concern for others, so should I show concern for their feelings?
Yes. I am not them.
So what do I do? Why do I care? I am not involved.
Sometimes I fight harder for others than for myself. When someone hurts me personally, I deal with it. When someone hurts someone I care about- I go crazy. This is why I get so angry. I see others getting hurt. I see others being made a fool. I see others being taken advantage of. I see others getting their hearts broken. I watch it all, and I feel like my hands are tied. Not knowing if my words would ever help, I just stay angry, and I'm afraid that my anger will subside only when these people stop the emotional destruction they so selfishly create.
Man, sometimes I wish I could be okay with being the bitch.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Balance
I've been having trouble finding a balance between fun and responsibility. I've gone on great hikes, frequented my favorite restaurants, and explored all the fun local activities my neighborhood has to offer. Do I regret doing all these things? Of course not. But, I do feel like I've been ignoring quite a few tasks and chores that need to be done. There is so much to do- clean, clean, clean, paint, organize for a yard sale I'm having in a couple weeks, work out in the yard, clean, go to the dentist, order more contact lenses, clean, wash my car, take care of medical prescriptions, and clean. I haven't done those things. I should have done some of those things a long, long time ago. I get upset with myself for not doing these things in a timely matter.
So today I change that. It's my day off, and when I would normally be out kayaking, hiking, roller skating, doing ANYTHING that helps me melt away the stresses of the work week, I sit inside, blogging away while trees are being removed from my yard so we can build a fence and map out what we hope to be our beautiful back yard. After I finish typing, I'm heading out to buy more painter's tape, and then I'll paint the master bedroom. Hell, maybe I'll even vacuum today, or scrub a toilet- who knows where the day will take me. Adventures a plenty? Sort of (maybe not the toilet part). It's a step in the right direction of telling myself that even these moments, full of responsibility, tedious work and- well, toilet scrubbing, are shaping me, and helping me find that I'm not missing out on life when I'm taking care of my life. Does that make sense? I hope so, otherwise I'm going to go out for a bike ride and screw it all.
So today I change that. It's my day off, and when I would normally be out kayaking, hiking, roller skating, doing ANYTHING that helps me melt away the stresses of the work week, I sit inside, blogging away while trees are being removed from my yard so we can build a fence and map out what we hope to be our beautiful back yard. After I finish typing, I'm heading out to buy more painter's tape, and then I'll paint the master bedroom. Hell, maybe I'll even vacuum today, or scrub a toilet- who knows where the day will take me. Adventures a plenty? Sort of (maybe not the toilet part). It's a step in the right direction of telling myself that even these moments, full of responsibility, tedious work and- well, toilet scrubbing, are shaping me, and helping me find that I'm not missing out on life when I'm taking care of my life. Does that make sense? I hope so, otherwise I'm going to go out for a bike ride and screw it all.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Last Friday, Greg and I hiked to the peak of Saddle Mountain. We've done this hike once before, and just like last time, it was a bit of a challenge. There's an elevation gain of over 1600 feet, and the last part of the hike is pretty damn steep. It's worth it in the end, though, because once you reach the top, you're able to see the Cascade Mountain peaks and the coast. A 360 degree view of amazing landscape is all the reward I need.
I was feeling pretty proud of myself. I thought, "man this was kind of hard. I. Am. VICTORIOUS." Then I saw a man reach the summit with a kid hitching a ride on his shoulders. Victory party over. Maybe I need to work out more.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
My Mother
My mother...
is crazy
makes me cry almost every time I talk to her
wishes I made more money
has asked complete strangers whether they think God is a man or a woman
teases her hair more than a bully teases a nerd
has made a lot of mistakes
totaled her car about a month ago
blacked out about a month ago
has nervous break-downs from time to time
wishes I went to college
has given me several anxiety attacks
wishes I didn't get married at such a young age
breaks my heart about once every three months
is hard to understand
doesn't try hard enough
tries my patience
is human
is human
is human
My mother...
is a woman
is her own person
lost her mom at the age of nine, and I don't think has ever recovered from it
has gone through more shit than anyone I know
has endured struggles that I think would break me
has overcome obstacles that she doesn't realize are huge accomplishments
is stronger than she likes to believe
has goals and dreams that I am unaware of
has a life that I am unaware of
has an endless amount of love to give to her family, but doesn't know how to show it
is brave
is funny
is beautiful
is human
is my mother
and I love her.
is crazy
makes me cry almost every time I talk to her
wishes I made more money
has asked complete strangers whether they think God is a man or a woman
teases her hair more than a bully teases a nerd
has made a lot of mistakes
totaled her car about a month ago
blacked out about a month ago
has nervous break-downs from time to time
wishes I went to college
has given me several anxiety attacks
wishes I didn't get married at such a young age
breaks my heart about once every three months
is hard to understand
doesn't try hard enough
tries my patience
is human
is human
is human
My mother...
is a woman
is her own person
lost her mom at the age of nine, and I don't think has ever recovered from it
has gone through more shit than anyone I know
has endured struggles that I think would break me
has overcome obstacles that she doesn't realize are huge accomplishments
is stronger than she likes to believe
has goals and dreams that I am unaware of
has a life that I am unaware of
has an endless amount of love to give to her family, but doesn't know how to show it
is brave
is funny
is beautiful
is human
is my mother
and I love her.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Thank You, Farmers
Today marked the launching of this season's Beaverton Farmers Market. I don't know why I love going to the market so much. Well, yes- yes I do know why. Aside from The Soup Lady (I will learn her name one day), the nuns who make mustard, and the best tomatoes I've ever laid eyes on, the market is a place where I get to run into friends I don't normally hang out with. Cory, Kelli (not today, but one weekend, I'm sure)and even Babs made an appearance. Plus, I have a huge appreciation and admiration for everyone who hauls their butts out of bed before the sun comes up, and works that tired butt off to bring the public some of the finest products, and to make an honest living. It's a dying art, and I like to support it when I can.
There's something very welcoming about the people, and about this particular market in general. Beaverton is a fairly decent size city with- well- nothing to do. I actually don't hang out there unless I'm working or at the market, but on those Saturday mornings, in that parking lot by the library, I feel as if I've been transported into a small town....and I like it. I wouldn't live there, but when it comes to the market, I sure as hell like to visit.
I meant to bring my camera with me, but I left it in my car. Next time, I'll post pictures.
There's something very welcoming about the people, and about this particular market in general. Beaverton is a fairly decent size city with- well- nothing to do. I actually don't hang out there unless I'm working or at the market, but on those Saturday mornings, in that parking lot by the library, I feel as if I've been transported into a small town....and I like it. I wouldn't live there, but when it comes to the market, I sure as hell like to visit.
I meant to bring my camera with me, but I left it in my car. Next time, I'll post pictures.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Sometimes I feel like I have to write on this thing to feel like there's a reason for having a blog. But a lot of days pass by, and I think to myself, "this was a good day, but does anyone care to hear about it?" and the answer is usually probably not. They're good days, great days, but nothing spectacular. For instance...
Yesterday:
Greg and I had a wonderfully relaxing day. We started it off by strolling up and down Hawthorne, checking out all the fun local shops. I bought a really cute black cardigan with roses and anchors lining the shoulders. Then we stopped by a little food shop called Pastaworks and picked up some fresh baked Focaccia, my favorite type of olives (Castelvetrano), and some other goodies to enjoy on a picnic. After the picnic, we drove back home and both took a nap together on the couch. About an hour and a half later, we were feeling refreshed and ready for a little more outdoor activity. We hopped onto our bikes and rode to our local butcher shop to pick up dinner. Greg pulled out the barbecue, I worked in the kitchen, and we made a fantastic dinner of steak with sauteed mushrooms, steamed asparagus and the rest of the focaccia from Pastaworks. Delightful? Yes. Blog-worthy? Not particularly.
Life is good. I am happy. I mean, really happy. I'm at a very peaceful place in my life, and I don't feel like I need to shout it from the rooftops. In the past, I would talk about how great life was because life wasn't great. Whether it was to talk about it aloud enough to convince myself, or to tell everyone about it to put on the facade of someone who has it all together, I wasn't truly happy. Who knows if I was fooling everyone else, but I know I was never fooling myself. It was like I was afraid to disappoint people for not having a good life. Silly, huh? Now, life is good (not perfect, of course) and I don't worry about how everyone else is perceiving my life. I don't need non-stop adventure, but this easy going attitude makes for lack-luster writing. Still, if I have to choose from a life of drama that'll fill up pages or this state of happiness, I'll take the latter, thank you.
Spring is here, and more activities are on their way. Greg and I want to go camping, kayaking, travelling and more. We're working on our house, and hope that we get some big changes done during the summer. It'll hopefully be something worth writing about, but for now, lazy days under the sun are good enough for me.
Yesterday:
Greg and I had a wonderfully relaxing day. We started it off by strolling up and down Hawthorne, checking out all the fun local shops. I bought a really cute black cardigan with roses and anchors lining the shoulders. Then we stopped by a little food shop called Pastaworks and picked up some fresh baked Focaccia, my favorite type of olives (Castelvetrano), and some other goodies to enjoy on a picnic. After the picnic, we drove back home and both took a nap together on the couch. About an hour and a half later, we were feeling refreshed and ready for a little more outdoor activity. We hopped onto our bikes and rode to our local butcher shop to pick up dinner. Greg pulled out the barbecue, I worked in the kitchen, and we made a fantastic dinner of steak with sauteed mushrooms, steamed asparagus and the rest of the focaccia from Pastaworks. Delightful? Yes. Blog-worthy? Not particularly.
Life is good. I am happy. I mean, really happy. I'm at a very peaceful place in my life, and I don't feel like I need to shout it from the rooftops. In the past, I would talk about how great life was because life wasn't great. Whether it was to talk about it aloud enough to convince myself, or to tell everyone about it to put on the facade of someone who has it all together, I wasn't truly happy. Who knows if I was fooling everyone else, but I know I was never fooling myself. It was like I was afraid to disappoint people for not having a good life. Silly, huh? Now, life is good (not perfect, of course) and I don't worry about how everyone else is perceiving my life. I don't need non-stop adventure, but this easy going attitude makes for lack-luster writing. Still, if I have to choose from a life of drama that'll fill up pages or this state of happiness, I'll take the latter, thank you.
Spring is here, and more activities are on their way. Greg and I want to go camping, kayaking, travelling and more. We're working on our house, and hope that we get some big changes done during the summer. It'll hopefully be something worth writing about, but for now, lazy days under the sun are good enough for me.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Everyone Around Me is Still Sleeping
It's 10:26 am. A late start to the day. Actually, I can't say that I've really started my day. My teeth are brushed, my contacts are in, and I've been online for about an hour. That's about it.
I think Greg and I deserve a day of sleeping in. We are finally completely moved out of our old house. It was a very trying experience. In hindsight, there are a lot of things I would have done differently (mainly renting a truck), but it's done. We're in our new house, and now we unpack, unpack, unpack. Although there's still a lot of work to be done, I am starting to feel like I am home. It's a great feeling. It's all starting to sink in- the realization that this house is MINE. I will not be paying rent at the end of this month. A mysterious landlord does not get my money. I get my money. That sounds fair.
My mind is focused solely on this house- where to put everything, what color to paint the bedrooms, fencing the yard, getting the new refrigerator (again), should we put new floors in or refinish what's under the carpet, and so on and so on and so on.
Sorry. It's been nothing but house talk from me. I will hopefully soon be far enough in making this house my own, so I can focus my attention on other parts of my life. I should do that. Balance is healthy.
I should get out of bed.
I think Greg and I deserve a day of sleeping in. We are finally completely moved out of our old house. It was a very trying experience. In hindsight, there are a lot of things I would have done differently (mainly renting a truck), but it's done. We're in our new house, and now we unpack, unpack, unpack. Although there's still a lot of work to be done, I am starting to feel like I am home. It's a great feeling. It's all starting to sink in- the realization that this house is MINE. I will not be paying rent at the end of this month. A mysterious landlord does not get my money. I get my money. That sounds fair.
My mind is focused solely on this house- where to put everything, what color to paint the bedrooms, fencing the yard, getting the new refrigerator (again), should we put new floors in or refinish what's under the carpet, and so on and so on and so on.
Sorry. It's been nothing but house talk from me. I will hopefully soon be far enough in making this house my own, so I can focus my attention on other parts of my life. I should do that. Balance is healthy.
I should get out of bed.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
What's better than a pound of bacon? A HOUSE! We sealed the deal, and signed all the closing papers on our new house yesterday! We don't have the keys yet- that'll probably happen tomorrow. I'll post more pictures soon- I need to get in there to take good pictures :0)
So you can help me two ways (not seriously, but if you wanna):
I'm doing Walk MS on the same Saturday that I'm moving. So you can all help me move, or support Walk MS by donating or showing up and showing support! The walk begins at 10am.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Why Do I Have This Thing??
Lately I've been having so many thoughts race through my head right as I lay down to sleep. These thoughts are very fluid and clear- almost poetic- and I want to jot them down onto my blog for all my friends to see. But I don't.
I lie awake in bed, philosophical ideas and emerging epiphanies present themselves to me with no force or cognitive effort at all...
and I just lie there and let them pass. Why? Am I that lazy that I don't roll out of bed and perform the simple task of scribbling these words down? I could even just write down the main point of these thoughts, and call it a night. Sigh.
I need to keep a journal by my bed. I don't want any more of these thoughts to slip through my fingers. It's not that I feel like I'm going to break barriers or change the world with any of these ideas. It's just that I've created this blog to challenge myself- to really explore my sense of expression, and to make myself vulnerable and open in ways of showing my creativity. I'm very hard on myself, and I stop myself from going on a lot of artistic endeavors because I am embarrassed to show my work. I am embarrassed to show myself in a more serious and deeper light, and the whole point of this blog is to get over that.
So here's how it will be from now on. More honesty. More vulnerability. More risks, and more purity. It's scary.
I lie awake in bed, philosophical ideas and emerging epiphanies present themselves to me with no force or cognitive effort at all...
and I just lie there and let them pass. Why? Am I that lazy that I don't roll out of bed and perform the simple task of scribbling these words down? I could even just write down the main point of these thoughts, and call it a night. Sigh.
I need to keep a journal by my bed. I don't want any more of these thoughts to slip through my fingers. It's not that I feel like I'm going to break barriers or change the world with any of these ideas. It's just that I've created this blog to challenge myself- to really explore my sense of expression, and to make myself vulnerable and open in ways of showing my creativity. I'm very hard on myself, and I stop myself from going on a lot of artistic endeavors because I am embarrassed to show my work. I am embarrassed to show myself in a more serious and deeper light, and the whole point of this blog is to get over that.
So here's how it will be from now on. More honesty. More vulnerability. More risks, and more purity. It's scary.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Finally
I finally feel like I'm doing something a little meaningful with myself! Lately I've been feeling like I've just been existing, rather than being a part of the world. My contribution to life- I've signed up for Walk MS. I know a beautiful woman who was diagnosed with MS about a year ago, and together (along with a gaggle of other wonderful people) we walk. I walk for her, I walk for a cure, I walk for reason and hope.
Please check out my page and if you feel like donating, it would be much appreciated. I have a very small goal ($75) to reach, but I'm hoping to exceed that goal.
I feel a little better about occupying some space on this planet. I'm here for a reason!
Please check out my page and if you feel like donating, it would be much appreciated. I have a very small goal ($75) to reach, but I'm hoping to exceed that goal.
I feel a little better about occupying some space on this planet. I'm here for a reason!
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Buying a House...
...is one of the most stressful things I've ever had to deal with. In a way, it makes me very grateful. I could be dealing with a lot worse.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Recycle, Toss, Sell, Clean
Today has been a tiresome, and minimally gratifying day. I have a lot of crap.
A LOT of crap.
I've been sorting through so much junk in my house- papers, clothing, knick-knacks and doo-dads, and I still have so much more to sort through. I didn't realize how much useless crap I have accumulated. I don't need so much.
So goodbye, old and tired t-shirts. Farewell, broken mirror I never used. Adios, bicycles, wedding dress and countless other items that will hopefully serve better use to someone who will, well, actually use you.
I've still quite a ways to go, but I feel like I've gained some ground. So maybe it wasn't minimally gratifying. I feel good. I feel liberated and relieved. I feel.....
lighter.
Know anyone who wants to buy a wedding dress?
A LOT of crap.
I've been sorting through so much junk in my house- papers, clothing, knick-knacks and doo-dads, and I still have so much more to sort through. I didn't realize how much useless crap I have accumulated. I don't need so much.
So goodbye, old and tired t-shirts. Farewell, broken mirror I never used. Adios, bicycles, wedding dress and countless other items that will hopefully serve better use to someone who will, well, actually use you.
I've still quite a ways to go, but I feel like I've gained some ground. So maybe it wasn't minimally gratifying. I feel good. I feel liberated and relieved. I feel.....
lighter.
Know anyone who wants to buy a wedding dress?
Friday, February 6, 2009
Gut? Are you still here?
The hunt is on. We've been pre-approved for a loan, and for the last week we've been teaming up with our awesome realtor and have looked at about over a dozen homes so far. It's exciting, it's terrifying, it's nerve-wracking, and it is melting my brain. All I am thinking about are houses. We have sort of a deadline of when we'd like to have a house, so even though we still have a good month's worth of time to look, I'm starting to feel like I might be too picky, and that since it is our first home, and no one's first home is perfect, that I should be a little more open. Or should I go with my gut, like people are telling me, and wait for that house that I'll know is "the one". I don't like letting my gut make the important decisions. I have my head for things like that.
Although....
We did see a house that we walked into, and right away I thought, "I want this!" I loved it, and so did Greg. The only problem was that someone had already put an offer down (one we couldn't compete with), and the seller was going to accept it that next morning. Bummer. I want to feel that way about another house, only I want it to actually be available for us. I like some of the houses we've seen. I like one of them a lot, but I don't feel that same way. It's a great buy, we'd get a good deal for it, but where's that gut feeling? Maybe I made my gut angry for chosing my head over it, and it left me. I want my gut back. I want to feel that gut feeling- the one where the excitement had a calming effect on me, where I felt comfortable stepping into the home, and I felt like I already belonged there. I'm sorry gut, I'll let you be a part of this again. Work your gutty magic. Please?
Although....
We did see a house that we walked into, and right away I thought, "I want this!" I loved it, and so did Greg. The only problem was that someone had already put an offer down (one we couldn't compete with), and the seller was going to accept it that next morning. Bummer. I want to feel that way about another house, only I want it to actually be available for us. I like some of the houses we've seen. I like one of them a lot, but I don't feel that same way. It's a great buy, we'd get a good deal for it, but where's that gut feeling? Maybe I made my gut angry for chosing my head over it, and it left me. I want my gut back. I want to feel that gut feeling- the one where the excitement had a calming effect on me, where I felt comfortable stepping into the home, and I felt like I already belonged there. I'm sorry gut, I'll let you be a part of this again. Work your gutty magic. Please?
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Call Me a Little Sadistic, But...
...this was very entertaining. I've never been a huge fan of violence. Not one for surprise blows, either. But put it in slow motion, and add a tune with a catchy beat, and you know what? I like surprise blows to the face!
Monday, January 26, 2009
25 Random Things About Me
I was tagged on Facebook to write 25 random things about myself. I kind of liked it, and since this blog is about me (ick, I don't like how vain that sounds, but it's true- this blog is about me.), I thought it would be a good post. To the friends on facebook that I tagged, and have already looked at this, turn away and do something productive, would ya'? :0)
1. I think my breath is kind of stinky today.
2. When I was little, I told everyone that I was going to be a boy when I grew up, not because I necessarily wanted to be a boy, but because I thought everyone eventually turned into a boy.
3. I pick my nose way more than I believe is socially acceptable.
4. I don't mind where I work, but I think some people aren't happy that I'm okay with it. I think they think I should be doing more with myself, but I'm not really a career-minded person. I don't think my job defines me, and I don't want to do all the work and spend all the money to meet the expectations that other people think I should have for myself, just to get a more "grown-up" and "real" job that'll take me away from what I really love in life.
5. I want a dog so badly, that I cry about it sometimes.
6. When I was about four, I thought marraige meant you would get to have a sleepover with your best friend everyday, so I wanted to marry Rainbow Brite. When I was informed that you have to kiss and do other stuff with that person, I decided to marry Mr. T instead.
7. Some days I think that I don't ever want to have children, or that I should adopt rather than give birth.
8. Some days, I think about having kids, and it makes me happy.
9. My right leg is significantly shorter than my left. So much so, in fact, that I suffer from debilitating back pain from time to time. I succumb to whatever position I'm in when the pain hits, sometimes scream out in pain, and just cry until the pain lessens- sometimes it's for a couple hours Every day hurts, but that's become normal for me.
10. I like the fact that people think I'm funny. I like being funny. It means a lot to me when I can make people laugh.
11. I hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate doing the dishes, but I hate a sink full of dirty dishes more.
12. When I was twelve, I thought I would only live until I was 24. I don't know why I thought this, I just did, and I was okay with it. There was a little part of me that had always believed this until the day of my 25th birthday.
13. I love to sing, but I have a paralyzing fear of singing in front of people. I don't even like to sing on my karaoke machine at home, because I think my neighbors may hear a little.
14. I think music sounds better when I'm listening to it with Greg. There's something about listening to music with someone who really understands and appreciates it- when he's playing songs he likes, I feel like there's more to it than just liking the song- there's something deeper, and I feel honored to be a part of it.
15. That being said, I wish I knew how to play a musical instrument. I can fake a few things on a guitar or keyboard, and I can hold a simple beat on the drums, but I don't really know how to play. I even took a guitar class in college, but I don't possess natual musical talent, and no matter how often I practice the guitar, I don't seem to get any better.
16. I'm kind of glad that my parents had a messy divorce. Not that I'm happy that they went through a very rough time, but I learned so many valuable lessons from their mistakes.
17. I hope to be living in my first purchased home by summer of this year. That excites me, and scares me at the same time.
18. I wish I read more often.
19. I think farts are so funny. I can even remember cracking up in elementary school because I saw the word "fart" printed in a book. I couldn't get over seeing such a funny word in such a non-funny Times New Roman font. I still giggle when I see it in print.
20. I don't like to do things by myself. Riding my bike, getting a bite to eat, going for walks, and other simple pleasures sometimes go undone because I can't find anyone to do them with me. Sometimes I force myself to just go out and have a good time by myself, and I do, but the thought of "this would be more fun if (insert name) was here, " constantly pops up in my head.
21. I sometimes sound like a stupid valley girl. I say "like" wayyy to often, and it annoys me.
22. I know how to juggle.
23. I regret giving my mom a hard time when she was trying to teach me how to speak spanish when I was younger. It's coming back to haunt me now. I know quite a bit, but my vocabulary and grammer are like a five year old's. Maybe even younger.
24. I don't think I've found my passion in life. I hope to find it soon.
25. I think I got married at a very young age, but I don't regret it for a second.
1. I think my breath is kind of stinky today.
2. When I was little, I told everyone that I was going to be a boy when I grew up, not because I necessarily wanted to be a boy, but because I thought everyone eventually turned into a boy.
3. I pick my nose way more than I believe is socially acceptable.
4. I don't mind where I work, but I think some people aren't happy that I'm okay with it. I think they think I should be doing more with myself, but I'm not really a career-minded person. I don't think my job defines me, and I don't want to do all the work and spend all the money to meet the expectations that other people think I should have for myself, just to get a more "grown-up" and "real" job that'll take me away from what I really love in life.
5. I want a dog so badly, that I cry about it sometimes.
6. When I was about four, I thought marraige meant you would get to have a sleepover with your best friend everyday, so I wanted to marry Rainbow Brite. When I was informed that you have to kiss and do other stuff with that person, I decided to marry Mr. T instead.
7. Some days I think that I don't ever want to have children, or that I should adopt rather than give birth.
8. Some days, I think about having kids, and it makes me happy.
9. My right leg is significantly shorter than my left. So much so, in fact, that I suffer from debilitating back pain from time to time. I succumb to whatever position I'm in when the pain hits, sometimes scream out in pain, and just cry until the pain lessens- sometimes it's for a couple hours Every day hurts, but that's become normal for me.
10. I like the fact that people think I'm funny. I like being funny. It means a lot to me when I can make people laugh.
11. I hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate doing the dishes, but I hate a sink full of dirty dishes more.
12. When I was twelve, I thought I would only live until I was 24. I don't know why I thought this, I just did, and I was okay with it. There was a little part of me that had always believed this until the day of my 25th birthday.
13. I love to sing, but I have a paralyzing fear of singing in front of people. I don't even like to sing on my karaoke machine at home, because I think my neighbors may hear a little.
14. I think music sounds better when I'm listening to it with Greg. There's something about listening to music with someone who really understands and appreciates it- when he's playing songs he likes, I feel like there's more to it than just liking the song- there's something deeper, and I feel honored to be a part of it.
15. That being said, I wish I knew how to play a musical instrument. I can fake a few things on a guitar or keyboard, and I can hold a simple beat on the drums, but I don't really know how to play. I even took a guitar class in college, but I don't possess natual musical talent, and no matter how often I practice the guitar, I don't seem to get any better.
16. I'm kind of glad that my parents had a messy divorce. Not that I'm happy that they went through a very rough time, but I learned so many valuable lessons from their mistakes.
17. I hope to be living in my first purchased home by summer of this year. That excites me, and scares me at the same time.
18. I wish I read more often.
19. I think farts are so funny. I can even remember cracking up in elementary school because I saw the word "fart" printed in a book. I couldn't get over seeing such a funny word in such a non-funny Times New Roman font. I still giggle when I see it in print.
20. I don't like to do things by myself. Riding my bike, getting a bite to eat, going for walks, and other simple pleasures sometimes go undone because I can't find anyone to do them with me. Sometimes I force myself to just go out and have a good time by myself, and I do, but the thought of "this would be more fun if (insert name) was here, " constantly pops up in my head.
21. I sometimes sound like a stupid valley girl. I say "like" wayyy to often, and it annoys me.
22. I know how to juggle.
23. I regret giving my mom a hard time when she was trying to teach me how to speak spanish when I was younger. It's coming back to haunt me now. I know quite a bit, but my vocabulary and grammer are like a five year old's. Maybe even younger.
24. I don't think I've found my passion in life. I hope to find it soon.
25. I think I got married at a very young age, but I don't regret it for a second.
Friday, January 23, 2009
an afterthought on "L"
Lakes? LAKES?!! What the hell, what a stupidly vague thing to love. Yes, some lakes can be serene and beautiful, but I do love things that start with the letter L more than lakes. While we're at it, lips was kind of a pull it out of my ass answer as well (I do love Greg's lips...others' can be chapped and cracked and flaky and just not all that pleasant to stare at). I know this is just a little word game, but I'm declaring a redo on my #'s 9 and 10.
my new 9. London. LONDON, of course! Sheesh.
my new 10 is a tie between Leprechauns and Little People. Sue me.
my new 9. London. LONDON, of course! Sheesh.
my new 10 is a tie between Leprechauns and Little People. Sue me.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
I Got Tagged...
...to play the Alphabet Game! I was assigned the letter L, so now I must list 10 things I love that start with the letter L.
1. Labradoodles
2. Love Song by The Cure
3. Ludwig Van Beethoven
4. Lobster
5. Love Actually I love Bill Nighy as Billy Mack! "Hiya kids. Here is an important message from your Uncle Bill. Don't buy drugs. Become a pop star, and they give you them for free!"
6. Lemon Turnovers from the bakery on Alberta St.
7. Laughter
8. Leftovers
9. Lips
10. Lakes
Now I will tag three people to play the game....
Lisa gets the letter G
Kim gets the letter M
Kelli gets the letter B
Have fun!
1. Labradoodles
2. Love Song by The Cure
3. Ludwig Van Beethoven
4. Lobster
5. Love Actually I love Bill Nighy as Billy Mack! "Hiya kids. Here is an important message from your Uncle Bill. Don't buy drugs. Become a pop star, and they give you them for free!"
6. Lemon Turnovers from the bakery on Alberta St.
7. Laughter
8. Leftovers
9. Lips
10. Lakes
Now I will tag three people to play the game....
Lisa gets the letter G
Kim gets the letter M
Kelli gets the letter B
Have fun!
Thursday, January 8, 2009
I'm having a baby!!!
For dessert. Thanks to my new foetus cookie-cutter I got for Christmas! Thanks, Greg!
Thursday, January 1, 2009
New Year
This new year:
I hope happiness outweighs sadness. That hearts grow strong, people get and stay healthy, and sickness is nowhere to be found. I hope broken hearts are mended, strength is gained, and souls become wiser without feeling too old. I hope families can visit, bonds are made, and re-connections are formed. I hope stress is replaced by sighs of relief, and pain is not caused by the people we love. I hope we all become a bit more aware of ourselves, and of our emotions. If sadness, guilt, anger or depression come our way, let's recognize it and deal with it, instead of pushing it aside and pretending it doesn't exist, because when you know pain, you know how to heal. When you know sadness or anger, you understand better what happiness is. Let's laugh more, love without fear, and not be embarrassed to be a little silly. Let's make ourselves happy, but not forget about the importance of making those around us just as happy.
Happy New Year.
I hope happiness outweighs sadness. That hearts grow strong, people get and stay healthy, and sickness is nowhere to be found. I hope broken hearts are mended, strength is gained, and souls become wiser without feeling too old. I hope families can visit, bonds are made, and re-connections are formed. I hope stress is replaced by sighs of relief, and pain is not caused by the people we love. I hope we all become a bit more aware of ourselves, and of our emotions. If sadness, guilt, anger or depression come our way, let's recognize it and deal with it, instead of pushing it aside and pretending it doesn't exist, because when you know pain, you know how to heal. When you know sadness or anger, you understand better what happiness is. Let's laugh more, love without fear, and not be embarrassed to be a little silly. Let's make ourselves happy, but not forget about the importance of making those around us just as happy.
Happy New Year.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)