Wednesday Wisdom

We moved over the weekend. It's been a whirlwind, really. 

Tuesday (last week) I flew to Austin

for a photography workshop (my first!)

and arrived home late Thursday night.

Friday I spent 10 hours at work and headed home at 9pm 

to ready my gear for a wedding on Saturday

in Cross Lake, Minnesota (three hours north).

I shot a wedding all day Saturday, and came home early Sunday morning

to a full trailer and empty boxes 

needing to be filled, packed, loaded.

Monday, I went to work.

The commute?

Fifteen minutes.

I have an hour and half of extra time now.

Every.

Single.

Day.

Time I used to spend driving.

Time that I can now spend with my darling daughters.

And DRL, too.

Time

dear, loyal, amazing friends,

that I can spend updating this blog. 

I miss it.

Writing.

I miss this blog.

I miss telling my stories.

Even if they're not any good.

So hopefully February will find me full of new material.

Also: Remember that you can keep up with me 

and all my photography adventures

over here.

xo

a

(special thanks to Kelsea for the photo)

Wednesday Wisdom

Should I mention how much

I completely suck

at consistently blogging?

No?

Why? 

Because you already know how awful I am at it?

Oh, right,

you probably do.

Since you come here 

to read and all.

Only to find lack of new material.

Sorry.

Life has been insanity lately.

Welcome insanity,

but insanity nonetheless. 

Work. 

The actual one with the paycheck and health insurance and 401(k).

Photography.

The one I actually want to be doing full-time

but lacks the (steady) paycheck, 

the (company supported) health insurance,

and (employer matched) 401(k).

I'm planning an Owl party for a little girl who is about to turn four.

If you know me, 

(which, I mean seriously, by this point, dear readers, you know me better than I know myself)

you know that I'm DIYing the crap out of the party. 

Yay Time Suck!

But it is going to be well worth it.

I hope.

If you want to keep up with the photography happenings,

check me out here.

If you want to keep up with my snark, 

friend me on facebook or follow me on twitter. 

I think I need another Rant Zone post.

I can feel it brewing.

Also, I'd like to hear from you.

You know,

in the comments section

as to what you're missing on TFP.

Photos?

Regularity?

Does my blog need a healthy course of Activia?

Humor?

Snark?

Pointless pontificating rants?

Or,

keep silent,

dear readers,

if you must.

I will consult the Magic 8 Ball for answers and hope the reply isn't hazy.

Happy Wednesday!

Cheers,

A

PostScript: Happy First Day Overdue to my super pregnant best ever friend Nadia, and Happy First Day of Life to my dear friends John and Terri's little girl, Lily. Babies are awesomesauce. 

Wednesday Wisdom

I had a family photo session on Labor Day at one of my favorite locations in Osceola.
A photo preview will be up on my photography site shortly.
Or right now, depending on when you're reading this.
Ah, the wonders of technology.

I've been sewing a lot lately.
To show for it I have a finished quilt,
another one in the process,
a gift for my bff's soon-to-birthed baby boy,
and a Festivus dress for Elena.

I've been knitting, too.
I'm working on a cowl (that I'll likely never finish because it's hat season),
and a baby blanket for an upcoming newborn session
(see above comment about a bff's soon-to-be-birthed baby boy)
as well as a hat (for said session. Man, I'm a great bff....)
I also have some hat orders that have come in
that I have to get crackin' on.
Oh, and one for Faith for being so amazing with grammar.
Or an apron.
I can't decide.
Neither can she.
Turns out we're perfect for each other.

But I digress.

I don't have any photos to show of my craftiness.
Please keep your disgruntled disdain to yourselves thankyouverymuch.
Photos are coming.
Promise.

I made a half dozen felt flower headbands over the holiday weekend.
The girls hate wearing them.
Super.

I painted my nails dark grey.
Essie's new fall grey.
I love it.

I'm addicted to Spotted Cow beer.
Thanks to Anda, and my trip to Madison in July.
I want it on tap,
but I'll settle for it in a bottle.

Lucinda has been on vacation for two weeks.
We've barely talked in that time
and I miss her like crazy.
I feel bad for being glad that her vacation is up today.....
Sorry, Luc.

College football started over the weekend and I bet on Georgia
even though I knew Boise State was going to win.
Good thing I didn't bet anything of any real value...
Sorry, Noel (aka, my brother).

I found myself missing Texas the other day.
Was sort of weird.
But not.
We'd have stayed if some of you would have been there with us....

That's the news for now.
What I can remember of it anyway.

Cheers,
A

Letting Go

Sometimes
giving up doesn't mean you've failed.
Sometimes it means
you're strong enough
to let go.

Cheers,
A

Delayed Gratitude and Musings on Art

Memorial Day has come and gone.
I enjoyed the day off.
Provided to me by men and women who went without rest
so that I could have mine.

I thought it better late than never
to share my immense gratitude to those
who have valiantly served this country.
Who have written a check that only deals in the currency of lives,
and walked, unafraid, into battlefields.
Of every shape and color.

Thank you.

Last night, I came across a paper I wrote in college
a reflective essay about a paper, authored by the artist Maya Lin, that I had to read for class.
Below is an excerpt.

I hope you enjoy:

I saw an aerial photo of Maya Lin’s Vietnam Veteran’s Memorial while I was still in high school.  I remember thinking the sculpture was magnificent, and so uniquely unattractive.  The monstrosity was large and black and menacing, and I was certain that it looked the way the soldiers who survived Vietnam must have felt: scarred.   I had read that Maya had wanted it to look like a scar on the face of the Earth.  That it was to be a reminder of those left on the dead, the wounded, and the veterans of such a horrific war.  It was the first time I ever thought a scar was beautiful, and certainly the first time I ever thought of one as poetic or poignant.  It was also the first time I realized what “art” actually was; that it was not a term used exclusively for gallery paintings and church ceilings, but that it is a feeling.  It is the feeling that brews within your soul when something powerful happens; something rare and unexpected. It is the roar of thunder on a balmy summer’s eve as the storm erases the day’s hot sun.  It is the rush of adrenaline that pulses eagerly through veins as teenagers plunge headlong into love for the first time.   And it is the calm serenity, the gentle knowing, that washes over you at the very moment that you comprehend precisely what it is that you are yearning so desperately to say, and you finally find the media with which to say it. A voice. A brush. A shutter and lens. Song. That is art; it is alive in everything. It exists everywhere.

Here's to making art.

To creating something,
each and every day,
that puts breath to your voice
while simultaneously taking that very breath
away.

Cheers,
A

Anonymous

Not so long ago, I was feeling a little down.
Uninspired.
As if the dreams I was so desperately after were never going to come true.


Then I happened upon my facebook inbox, and found the following message:


""It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are." E.E. Cummings 

The change, courage and strength that you have gone through have been inspirational...particularly for me. 

Thank you. 
For going after 'it' with a motivation greater than your fears. 
Thank you. 
For being transparent with us and making yourself easier to relate to, more than you'll ever know.
Thank you.
For showing, that when there's a will, there is a way.
Thank you.
For being the living example that the only boundaries that we have, are the ones we create ourselves. You do a magnificent job of showing us that you have set no boundaries and therefore continue to go further and further forward with your endeavors in which you enjoy to pursue. 


As I "sit back" and watch you grow to become who you really are (again, from my cheap seat behind the computer screen), I am in such awe. I wonder what it's like to have such courage, strength, determination; persevering on the fronts in which you've gone after.


I do know this, though. While observing it all, it gives this meak and weak lil lady on this side of the computer the positive reinforcement and encouragement that with one decision at a time, I too, can be there."


It floored me.
Completely.
Wholly.


How can little 'ol me be motivating, 
to anyone,
when I can barely motivate myself sometimes?


I re-read this message a gagillionty times.
The most recent of which was last night,
as the woman who wrote it to me is currently having a bit of a rough time.


A place with which I am all too familiar.


And to her, 
to anyone who needs it,
and to myself, at times
I simply offer the following:


"Just because today is a terrible day doesn't mean tomorrow won't be the best day of your life.  You just gotta get there."


You are not meek.
You are not weak.
You are not small.


Cheers,
A

Work. In Progress.

Some things are easy.  Most are not.

I had a mental breakdown yesterday.  It involved tears. Pouting.  HandsUpInTheAirWhereDoIGoFromHere-ing. And some solid recognition.  I came to accept that if I want to become a full time photographer doing so is going to take a lot longer than I would like. Or, at least I'm trying to accept that.  It's a work in progress , really.  Like not eating the entire pint of ice cream in one sitting.

Right now, in this life, this moment, I don't have time to market myself.  I can't spend hours toiling over a design for business cards and although I bought my domain name, I don't know the first thing about a photography website.  I don't have the capacity to organize creative photo shoots and network with others in the wedding industry who work with the kind of client that fits my style of portraiture.  If I did have the serendipity to run into someone needing a photographer, I don't have business cards to hand out.  Or a website to direct potential clients to.

I don't have the time/money to attend workshops.  To learn.  Grow.  Explore my ability.

I don't have the money to buy the lenses I need.  The lighting accessories.  The computer.

But I want to. I wish I could.  More than anything.

So very badly.

My whole life I've dreamed of being an artist.  (Okay, okay, and a ballerina.  And a doctor.  And a teacher.  The other three didn't pan out.) But I never planned on becoming a photographer.  I fought against it for a while, actually.  When people would compliment my photos, I gave 110% of the credit to my Nikon.  It's still hard for me not to.  I'm sure part of it stems from my insecurities.  The feeling that by being so self-deprecating, it'll take the sting out of any other criticism that may come my way.

I am so inspired by the people who are living their dreams.  Who took the plunge.  No holds barred.  Jumped.  Anda.  Jasmine.  My newest stalkee Gladys.  I watch them, every day, as they continue to create amazing things, and I get jealous.  Insanely jealous.  Green-in-the-face-steam-coming-out-of-my-ears-lock-Cinderella-in-the-attic jealous.  In the most complimentary and friendly fashion, of course.  

I want to have the freedom to create art, every day.  To live my story.  To be my story.

The real truth I came to last night, as I sat in a teary wet heap on my kitchen floor, is that this is my story.  Every word of it.  Each and every step I take towards the achievement of my dream is worth taking.  No matter how small.  Even if I am sitting still, at least I am not moving backwards.

This will have to be my new mantra.  As I watch, from the sidelines, as these three amazing women take the 2011 wedding season by storm.  I'll practice whenever I can.  I'll still try and snag some new clients along the way.  And when 2012 gets here, and brings with it the end of the world, I will be ready to dive full force into my very own, my very first, official wedding season.  I hope 2011 brings me many more opportunities to practice.  To hone.  To grow.

And if you know someone who could use a photographer, please, in the name of all that is holy (and for the sake of keeping me off the kitchen floor) send them my direction.

Cheers,
A

PS:  I managed to build a photography blog.  You can find it here.  Bookmark it if you'd like.  Share it with friends.  It'd mean the world to me.

Wednesday Wisdom

It's Wednesday.
And this is what I know for sure.

Elena is the best hat model.
Ever.
Even when she's pouty.
Or non-cooperative.

Stella's eyes are the most beautiful shade of blue.

She's the "Blue" sheep of this family.
She has my grandpa's eyes, I think.
When she was an infant,
we would call her "Little Leonard"
because she looked just like him.

I still desperately want to cut my hair short.
Really short.
Michelle Williams short.
Lucinda cut hers yesterday.
Emma Watson short.
I am soooo jealous.

It looks amazing on her.

I am debating whether I want to upgrade my camera
(from a D90 to a D700)
or just spend the money on lenses.

I know I'll need both eventually,
and I'm torn with what to invest in FIRST.

My gut says camera body.
Lenses are easy to rent.

But I've gotten some feedback that recommends
I upgrade the lenses first.

I don't know what to do....

I went to Sephora today.
I bought grown up
big girl
adult
makeup.

And the girl who helped me
was amazing.
Helpful.
Friendly.
With a perfect smile.

(thanks!)

Stella has another ear infection.
I've gotten a cumulative total of 7.8 hours of sleep
in the last two nights.

I'm hoping the antibiotics kick in.
And sooooon.

I'm still amazed by what is happening in Wisconsin.
How people are standing up
for what they believe in.
Unfaltering.
With one voice.

I'm proud to be a 'Sconnie girl.

And now,
more than ever,
I wish I was a teacher.

We need more good ones.
But we especially need more great ones.
With loud, powerful voices.

Oh, and I hear they make over 100k/year.....

Cheers,
A

Wednesday Wisdom

I was in dance lessons on and off
since the tender age of 3.

Tap.
Jazz.
And eventually, ballet.

When I was 14, my dad built me my very own studio
in our basement.
A friend who was taking pointe,
showed me how to do a few basic moves.

I would spend hours in the basement,
listening to classical music,
stretching at my barre,
and attempting to
tondu
releve
pique
pirouette...

When I was 20 I took up ballet
at the Minnesota Dance Theater
in downtown
Minneapolis.

After a few months of twice a week classes
I officially graudated from Capezio leather ballet slippers
to Bloch pointe shoes.

I thought I was soooo cool. 
Then my toes started hurting.
Bad.
And I started practically starving myself.

It wasn't long before I decided
it just wasn't worth it.

When people ask,
I'll tell them I used to dance.
Ballet, I'll say.

My feet can handle anything now,
I joke.

Yesterday,
I read a quote from a friend
on facebook,
"You are infinitely more valuable being exactly who you are
than you'll ever be trying to be something you're not."

I happened into a PT clinic yesterday,
and the person I was supposed to meet
was off site doing Physical Therapy
for Ballet Austin.

I said to the woman who was helping me in his stead,
"Oh how fun! I used to dance."
She then went on to talk about another clinician who
spent a few years
as a professional dancer.

To which I replied,
"Oh, I was never any good. I just pretended."

She smiled wide and laughed
a big, boisterous, hearty laugh.

As did I.
This might not seem like much
but to me, it's a big deal.

I've stepped out of the dream
of ever becoming a phenomenal
dance ingenue. 

And I am
actually
perfectly okay with that. 

Cheers,
A

Wednesday Wisdom

"Don't say you don't have enough time.
You have exactly the same number of hours per day
that were given
to Helen Keller,
Louis Pasteur,
Michelangelo,
Mother Teresa,
Leonardo da Vinci,
Thomas Jefferson,
and Albert Einstein."
                            ~H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

If you don't have a dream,
how can you have a dream come true?

The best day of your life
is the day
in which you decide
your life
is
your own.

"The tragedy of life does not lie
in not reaching your goals,
the tragedy lies
in not having any goals
to reach."
                ~Dr. Benjamin Mays

Surround yourself with people who believe you can.

The sum total of a lot of little efforts
isn't little.

"To be nobody but yourself
in a world which is doing its best
day and night
to make you like everybody else
means to fight
the hardest battle
which any human being can fight
---
but never stop fighting!"
                                    ~e.e. cummings

Trust your crazy ideas.

If you can read this
thank a teacher.
(And then speak up (LOUDLY) to help them keep their jobs.
Their schools.
Their funding.)

Live your life on purpose.

Jump.
With your eyes
wide
open.

Cheers,
A

(most of the words in this post were taken graciously from a book I happened upon in a cute little boutique.  The book is called "Where Will You Be Five Years From Today" and can be found here: www.live-inspired.com.)

Wednesday Wisdom

}I leave for California tomorrow.  San Diego, to be precise.  I leave early.  Really, really, insanely, grossly, nooneshouldeverhavetobeawakeatthishour early. 

}Sadly, I am not going for fun.  It's work.  Every second of the 3 days I am there is scheduled. 

}I'll be in California.  For the first time since I was 6.  And I'll get to see very little of it.

}Boo-urns.  (Name that TV show..)

}I didn't watch much of the State of the Union address.  I'm pretty 'meh' on politics, and politicians, right now.  They all stink to high heaven. 

}I have no photos of my kids to post. I feel like a rotten momtographer. 

}Elena has a butterfly "tattoo" on her tummy.  Just like mommy.  Only hers is bigger.  And way more colorful.  Yes. I'm jealous of my 3 year-old's temporary Sharpie tattoo.

}I'm knitting a hat.

}......try to contain your surprise. 

}Though I am excited to see how it turns out...I am tired of knitting.  And quilting. And taking photos.  And most of all, working.  I want a vacation. For like 5 minutes.  Then I'll jump right back into the crazy that is my life.  Gleefully. 

}I'm going to Mexico in April for my 30th birthday.  Just me.  My closest girlfriends.  Low key.  Sun. Sand. Wine.  I couldn't be more excited.

}I'm working with a friend of mine to create fabulous business cards. Photography business cards.  Because, you know, I'm a photographer. 

}I'm actually calling myself a photographer.  And not wincing.  Or flinching.  Or with the raised inflection indicative of a question. 

}I might not blog much while I'm gone.  It'll be the longest number of days without a new post since November.  I apologize in advance. 

}Maybe y'all need a break from me 'bout now, anyway....

Cheers,
A

Oh. My. Gosh.  I just said y'all. 
Send help.
And quick...

Be Enthusiastically You

All the time, every moment. 
Revel in each one of those moments
your moments, 
and the moments of others. 


Take nothing for granted
but don't be so burdened with reminders of how easily things are lost. 


Twirl in circles and get dizzy. 


Keep even the bad photos of yourself. 


Encourage one another. 
Encourage yourself. 


Cuddle. 
Say "I Love You." 


Instead of doing things "before you die"
do them to know 
that you truly 
lived. 


Be silent. 
Let others speak - especially when you disagree with their point of view. 


Give your neighbors a hand, 
and those you hate 
a chance. 


Feel warmth in your heart. 
Get teary eyed over something silly. 


Make friends with a complete stranger.

Be. 
Enthusiastically. 
YOU. 
Every moment 
of every day. 


And don't ever let anyone tell you that it's wrong.

Because who you are, can never be wrong.

Cheers,
A

Ink

I may have mentioned that Dayna and I
got new tattoos on Saturday.

A little shop called
True Blue Tattoo
on sixth and Red River
in downtown Austin.

Or "dirty sixth" as it's called.
Apparently.

We chose our tattoo artist,

because of her amazing ability
to create beautiful
extraordinary
beyond belief
color.

Crisp.
Sharp.
Exquisite.

The rose on her business card?
It's a tattoo.

Dayna went first.
Because she is braver than I am.
Which is to say that she was afraid she would chicken out
if she had to watch me go first.

And,
as it happens,
she would have.
As I screamed.
And cried.
And cussed like a sailor.

More on that later.

But Dayna was a champ.

Even though it did hurt.
At least a little.

Cara did an awesome job.

Dayna's phoenix looks stunning.

Once she was done
it was my turn.

I have a low back tattoo, see.
And I haven't loved it for quite some time.
I have been thinking of ways to add on to it
make it look less like a "tramp stamp"
and a little more like a tattoo.
Like art.
Like something that held some meaning
and looked
....
pretty.

I told this to Cara.
That I wanted birds.
Maybe some flowers, too.

And this
after an hour of twitching
writhing
screaming
clenching
kicking
biting
and cussing
is what she created using
my vague description of what I wanted
and her ridiculous tattoo prowess:

The tribal design was the existing tattoo
the outlined parts are Cara's addition.

I will go back in three weeks to add shading
and lots
and lots
color.

I
cannot
wait.

Tattoos might not be your thing
and that's okay.

But this tattoo
is a big deal
to me.
Each bird
represents one of my girls,

Elena
and
Stella

while simultaneously being a tribute
to both my grandmother Helen and her love of Cardinals
and to Lucinda and her birdie.

Yesterday was my Gramma's birthday.
Or rather it would have been.

Sunday is the anniversary of Cooper's death.

And next Thursday is Stella's 1st birthday.

When the tattoo was finished
it was difficult for me not to cry.

Because this one
more than any of my others
means
so
very
very much.

Which makes the pain
so very worth it.

Cheers,
A

Wednesday Wisdom

*This is my new shirt from the FCKH8 campaign. You should get one, too.

*I tried to make a handmade Christmas gift for my friend Rebecca's new baby girl.  It didn't pan out.  I am going to try again.

*I am behind on everything.  Megan, your hat is coming.  Melissa, so are your wedding photos.

*My brother flew into town today.  He's here to help DRL drive back to MN for the month.

*I'll join them the weekend before Christmas.

*Elena doesn't believe that there is snow at Gramma's house.  Silly girl.

*Yesterday was World AIDS Day.  I wore my inspi(red) shirt to bed since I couldn't wear it to work.

*Did I mention that I am behind on everything??

*I need to take more photos. I haven't picked my camera up in a long time. For this, I am sad.

*Belle is home from the vet.  She is hurting. And tired.  But she is moving around well.

*It is amazing how resilient dogs are.  Magnificent creatures....

*My guilt, on the other hand, is waning slowly.  Very, very, slowly.

*I need ideas for blog topics.  I'm tapped for ideas.

*Help.

*Please.

Cheers,
A

It's Thursday today, isn't it?
As in: NOT Wednesday??
Dadgummit......

Giving Thanks

Yesterday
I gave you a list of things
that make me a little nuts.

Today,
I'm going to do just the opposite.
Seeing as it's Thanksgiving and all.

Obviously I'm thankful
for my husband
my girls
my family
and you.

But I'm also thankful for a whole host
of trivial items.
That make my life
just a little bit better.

Here they are
in no particular order.

*Stila lip gloss.  Thank you, Luc, for the gift set of them. I am officially addicted.

*Pinot Noir.  This is not a secret. I mention it often. I. Heart. Pinot.

*Movie quotes.  Without them, I would be nothing.

*My camera.

*The internets, and the people I've met because of it.  (And a happy 20th birthday to you, too.)

*Florence + The Machine.

*I am veryveryveryveryveryveryvery thankful that the Brown Recluse spider we found in the house yesterday did not bite me.  And I am equally thankful that from here on out ALL of its brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, first, second, third, or fourth cousins and any/all other relations of any kind will remain on the OUTSIDE of my house.

*Essie nail polish.  Perfection in a bottle.  I particularly love the Fall Collection, namely "Merino Cool."  I can't imagine why.

*Speaking of Merino, I am thankful for Malabrigo and any other squishy, soft, delicious worsted Merino wool.  You are my reason for living knitting.

*Fabric. In gorgeous patterns and soft cottons.

*H åagen Dazs White Chocolate Raspberry Truffle ice cream.  Although, while I am thankful for you and your deliciousness, I also loathe you.  For being so delicious. And un-calorie free.

*Caribou Coffee.  For finally opening a store in Austin. (This has not happened yet. But it needs to.  Stat.)

*Johnny Cash and his Folsom Prison Blues.

Happy Thanksgiving,

A

STR8 against H8.

I've heard

that blogging about politics 

is blog-suicide.

A sure way to alienate readers.

I've been pretty good,

I think,

at staying neutral in my prose.

There is one issue, 

however,

upon which I'm not afraid to draw a line in the blog sand

and choose a side.

I believe in marriage.
I am advocate for equal rights.

I don't like hate.
Discrimination.
Ignorance.
Especially when it's based on fear.

I came across this website
via facebook
a couple weeks ago.

I bought a t-shirt.
Partially because it is a little
tongue-in-cheek
to wear a t-shirt that says, "FCKH8."

I certainly can't put it on my license plates.
But also, because I think it's a good cause.
The support of gay marriage.

I think it's okay to be afraid of things you may not understand,
or things that you may not morally approve of
because of personal or religious reasons.
I think it is also okay to disapprove of those things.

I do not, however, think that it's okay
to deny rights to only select people
because of that fear.

Misunderstanding.

Doing so,
denying gays and lesbians the right to marry,
is a heinous form of
persecution
exclusion
and judgement

disguised as:
"the upholding of moral and ethical conservative values."

People.
Citizens of the United States.
Having equal access to all rights.

I thought that was a Conservative Value....

I'm standing up to FckH8.
I hope you will, too.

Cheers,
A

*Editor's note: I love that you visit my blog. I love that you read it and share it with your friends.  And I especially love that you have your own point of view and may agree wholeheartedly with this post, or vehemently oppose it. This is an expression of my opinion only.  To say that it is not meant to perhaps influence yours would be untrue.  But it is not, in any way, meant to offend, anger, or harm any who choose to read.  Come again.  You're always welcome here.  xo.  

Press Release

Tomorrow is Election Day.
Also known as:
The Day The Annoying Ads Stop Interrupting Normal
Enjoyable
Commercial Programming.

Thank the lord.

In light of this,
I figured It was time for me to
come clean.

Air my dirty laundry.
In case,
you know,
I ever want to run for office someday.

I'd run on the Republicat ticket.
Or maybe I'm a Demoblican.

Either way,
it's high time I let the proverbial cat
out of its bag.

Before an attack ad is made about it.

Here, in list form,
are some things you may have never known
about
me.

*I need a pedicure.

*I practiced Wicca in High School.  (Take that Christine O'Donnell.  I was a witch.)

*I once hid from police in a corn field. For hours. And then I got lost in that corn field. For a few more hours.  And I was stone sober the whole time.

*I need a manicure.

*I might be addicted to fabric.  I'd like that last part to remain off the record.

*If I call DRL, and he doesn't answer, I immediately start to think of all the bad things that could possibly have happened and how on earth the police would know to contact me.  And what if his cell phone was lost? Or smashed? What then?  How would I know?  Then I realize I'm being ridiculous and he's just on the treadmill at the YMCA and will call me back in an hour or so.

*It is nearly impossible for me to fall asleep in an empty house/hotel room/apartment/sleeping bag.  If I know I am also going to wake up alone, I hear violence in every creek of every floorboard.  I'm like a 6 year old. I need someone to check under the bed and in the closets for would-be attackers.
  
*I once fought of an attacker.  Silly kid was trying to steal my school bag one snowy night when DRL and I lived in Blaine.  It was snowing.  I was wearing patent leather heels.  I fought.  He pulled.  Then I fought some more.  He started running. I told him he was stupid and went inside.

*I need a haircut.

*The dog needs to pee.

*When I was in middle school, seventh grade, I think, my math teacher, Ms. Pederson told me that, for good luck, I should say "Rabbit Rabbit" on the first of every month.  Right away. It should be the first thing you say when you wake up or it won't work.  I have done this almost every  month since I was 13.

*I didn't say it today.  I'm throwing salt over my shoulder and turning around three times as we speak.

*I wear glasses when I drive at night.

*The baby needs a bath.

*I might not be that informed, but I'm actually rather smart.

*I have a horrible memory.  Absolutely wretched.  I remember the most obtuse things, but can't recall important events/items on my to-do list/where I put my keys/The ABC's.

*I can play the flute.

*I have never, officially, been Throttle Tanned.  Er, sorry, "Throttled."

*The giveaway item is nearing completion.

*I had the house to myself for four hours on Friday.  I used that time to re-arrange the living room furniture.  It was strangely cathartic.  My spirits were lifted.  And our apartment finally feels a little bit more like home.

*I'm still friggin homesick.

*I use the little spoon for cereal and the big spoon for ice cream and soup.

*I have given up ice cream until I lose 5 pounds.

*I really want some ice cream.

*I am shooting a wedding in less than two weeks.

*I had more fun watching Elena trick-or-treat than I ever had doing it myself.  Having kids is awesome in that capacity.

*I can't remember what else I was going to say.

Cheers,
A

What I Know For Sure

I've been thinking a lot, lately.
A dangerous pastime.

I know.

And this is what I know for sure.

I am selfish.
And I'm okay with that.
I want time for myself.
Alone.
Quiet.

I want to maintain an identity outside of my children,
my job,
my marriage to DRL,
motherhood.

I want to always have friends
all over the place.
From all walks of life.
Friends who I've known for 2.7 seconds
others since I was 9.
Friends I only ever 'see' on facebook,
and others that I would be lost without.
Those who,
as luc would say,
make up my tribe.

I need to lose 10 pounds.
And not just for vanity.
I don't feel healthy.
I'm 20 pounds over the "ideal" weight for my height.
I'll compromise,
stupid BMI chart,
and lose ten.
OK?

As soon as the two pints of Haagen Daz
White Chocolate Truffle
are finished.

Promise.

The Texas Rangers are going to the world series.
Take THAT Yankees.

Speaking of Yankees,
I got called one today.
Not the baseballer,
rather, a person from north of the mason-dixon line.
"Oh, that's right....you're a yankee."

I've been listening to Austin News Radio.
It's very conservative.
Right-leaning.
Rush Limbaugh's radio show airs on this station.
It makes me mad, a lot.
But I keep listening.

I'm really homesick.
To the point that if it were a real disease,
I'd be hospitalized.
In critical condition.

If you're reading this,
I miss you.
True story.
Way more than a little.

I am drinking a juicebox.

I ordered $18/yard fabric.
I'm splitting half of it with Rebecca.
And I
am
excited.

{nerd}

I need to use my camera more often.

I need to realize that I can be a professional photographer.
I just need to own it.
Develop my skills.
Hone them.
Practice.
And then brand myself.
And market the shit out of that brand.

I am going to be hosting my first ever giveaway
very
very
soon.

So keep reading.

On that note,
Thank you for reading.
It makes me happy.
Even if you don't comment
here
at the end of each post
hearing in random conversation that you come here
and read this
and love it
makes
my
day.

Every single one of them.

And for that
for you
I am forever grateful.

Cheers,
A

Wednesday Wisdom

*I am in a hotel in Houston. For work.

*Blogger has a stat tracker now. It shows me all sorts of stuff. Like what people searched for to find my blog. The number two search query? "Jad Jergens". True story.

*My expose on his partner, Lance Throttle, is currently in development.

*If my friends in Oregon happen upon this humble little blog, when you're ready, go see my friend luc. Because she knows. She's been exactly where you are.

*I loathe the Yankees.

*I haven't yet set foot in Target Field.

*Blogging from an iPad is challenging.

*There's an Hermes store in Houston. Across the street from a Luby's.

*Luby's is an octogenarian hangout. A cafeteria buffet. For $5.99. Including steak. Across from Hermes. The world keeps getting stranger.

*I saw a "National Geographic" cover that brought out the inner anthropologist in me. They found "the missing link." I am a dork, and to me, it's hugely exciting.

*The skeletal remains of a hominid that is 4 million years old.

*I told you I was a dork.

*That's it. For today, anyway.

Chhers,
A

M.D.

When I was little,

and people would ask what I wanted to be when I grew up,

I would always say, "A Ballerina!"

Except when I would say

Veterinarian!

Doctor!

Marine Biologist!

Actress!

Singer!

Teacher!

Artist!

I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up.

Which I suppose is okay since I am not sure

precisely when it is

that I will actually

grow up.

I still want to be a ballerina.

A doctor.

An actress.

An artist.

A teacher. 

I even tried my hand a little at each vocation.

I danced up until I was 23 years old and on the verge of

perfecting a really nasty eating disorder.

I consistently win "Best Dramatic Performance by a Female in a Lead Role"

at the Pelton Academy Awards.

Although Elena might be usurping my title this year.

I quilt.

I knit.

I take photos.

Which, I suppose, means I art.

I am not, however, a doctor.

I am not even a nurse.

Or a medical assistant.

I sell medical-equipment, instead.

I realized too late in life that medicine was the career I would most enjoy.

It has the most schooling...I excel at that.

It also has the most

math.

It is the thorn in my proverbial side.

There's a saying that goes, "those who can't do, teach"

well,

those who can't heal, sell.

Or so it seams.

And those who can't sell?
What of them?

They sit in their home office writing

nonsensical drivel

on their blogs.

And dreaming of the day they can attend Medical School.

Or make a career out of taking photos.

Maybe both.

Cheers,

A