For today’s post, I thought I’d share just a few pictures I’ve taken around the city lately.
It’s a sidewalk . . . reserved for people with HUGE bodies and tiny heads
FACT: i CAN’T tell you how to get to Sesame Street.
No really. We don’t mind!
One of my youth girls made this out of Jenga blocks during hang time
Looking out at my neighborhood from the 2nd floor
I’m gonna take you to my boxcar on the beach
I’m gonna hang the sun above your bed
and soak your hair in bleach
You’ll be missed, Miss California
You’ll be kissed by only me
When they can’t find you
You’ll turn into a mystery
but you’re no mystery to me
I call on Jesus but he heard I hurt his little girl
Yeah with my reckless stare
I’ve been so unfair misplacing my affections
She had a reason not to take me back into her care
Oh I’m just a stray dog now
I can’t beg or bow
Just give me some direction– Miss California by Jack’s Mannequin
I got to hang out with some great women last night and talk about love and marriage (goes together like a horse and carriage). Coming from a broken home, I find that I have “every right” to not believe in love, to not believe that marriage can work, but it’s just not the case for me. I’m not sure if it’s just my natural defiance, but I have the biggest hopes for the success of marriage. I believe it IS possible for two people to journey through life together, with all of its ups and downs and work together to make their love and life worthwhile. I consider myself lucky to be surrounded by amazing men and women who remind me that it IS in fact, still possible and worth it all.
One thing we talked about was the dynamic of bringing two sets of everyday life and emotions into the mix. For instance, how the course of one person’s day may be contrary to the other person’s day, but when you come home, you bring your day with you and all the emotions associated with it. There can easily be a disconnect—that point when you want to shut down and just go home, not say anything, just walk around like a drone, and call it a night—instead of spending quality time with your husband or wife.
Admittedly, it’s harder for women to disconnect from the day, and thus, we have the greater tendency to “not want to talk about it,” or give up because “you just wouldn’t understand” what we went through that day, and we can just go through daily motions to make it through another day. Oh the joys of (in general) being more emotional than our male counterparts.
One really tangible challenge I walked away with was from a story that one of the women shared. It was a story about a guy who would always carry a tape recorder with him, and on his way home, he would record himself talking to the recorder about all the burdens and junky stuff that happened during the day. He would then pull into his driveway, and before walking in the door, would erase the tape. He would get all the junk and stuff out of his mind, and was then able to walk in the door, ready to focus on his wife and family, not burdened by the weight of mundane life. I realize there must be a balance of talking about life with the love of your life, but some things really CAN get in the way—even in platonic relationships.
When I’m reminded how much power the words I speak and the attitudes I adopt affect my relationships, it wakes me up to the realization that I can change things and I can make everyday life a bit easier. I notice that when I get home to my housemates, I face the same dilemma: I’ve had a long day and I’m SO ready to just disconnect and go to my room and check e-mail and all my various social networking sites. And then I remember the times when we get together as housemates and how much fun we have just talking together and doing random silly stuff. These housemates of mine are my friends, and I get to see them every day, which may be why it’s so easy to take them for granted. But they matter, and I realize I need to train myself to change some of my habits to devote time to them, and my other friends. If anything, it’ll be good practice, and as I’ve heard a thousand times, “PRACTICE MAKES PERMANENT.” There is a balance, and now I’m reminded to challenge myself to find it and live in it.
Last night me and the housemates got together for Banana Time! What is banana time you ask (I didn’t really know what it was either)?
Basically, you cut a banana open, insert chocolate, wrap it in foil, bake it for a bit, and then open it up and add whip cream and ENJOY!
We had so much fun making these and talking about random stuff. One of the funnier moments to note was talking about the canvas portrait that’s hanging in our upstairs hallway. It came with the house that we all rent and it’s a painting of a chick in her undies. We were talking about how funny it is that we only have 2 pictures hanging on our walls in the house—the chick in the undies painting, and a framed picture of a beach scene. As a joke, I kept saying that whoever gets married first, I’m going to give them that painting as a wedding present—just so they can keep a piece of the house with them! I’m not really going to, but it was fun to laugh at the thought.
Anyway . . . here are some pics from our Banana Time:
Also, another random fact I will share. 99.9% of the time, if whip cream is put in arm’s reach of me, it will end up on my face. Here’s a pic of me getting ready to shave my whip creamed face with a spoon:
Fun times never end! 😉
I questioned today why our society adopts certain standards. Mainly, I questioned why our society doesn’t see pajamas as professional attire. I mean, sure, they’re not so “static” and “plain” but that’s the fun of them! I think I’d actually get MORE work done if I could wear my comfy jammies. I mean, at my current job, I can wear sweats, which are nice. But my sweats are not fuzzy and colorful like my jammies.
I think it would be so great to see a lawyer show up to the courtroom in jammies. I mean, if it’s a guy, I’m hoping he’ll at least wear boxers—anything else might just be nasty . . . let’s get real: guy thigh=ick. I think if I searched out my heart of hearts, I wouldn’t pass judgement on my doctor if she was wearing jammies while taking my bloodwork—heck, it might make me LESS afraid of needles!
Wait! Doctors! That’s it!! I could be a doctor and wear scrubs—they’re the best things next to p.j.’s!! The only thing is that I’m afraid of needles, and I don’t want to go to school to be a doctor, and I’m pretty sure the only relief I’d bring to the clinic would be comedic relief. Think: Patch Adams . . . without the medical knowledge, or college experience, or cabin in the woods. On second thought—strike that. Instead, envision this:
Dear Corporate America:
I like you—really, I do. But lately we’ve been seeing life from two different perspectives. It’s not anything that is seemingly detrimental to our relationship, but in any good relationship, there is give and take. I love that you let me do what I love while still being able to bring home the bacon. There’s just one thing we don’t agree on and that’s professional attire. I know that you’re partial to the whole starched dress shirt and creased khakis or slacks, but let’s get real. No one REALLY enjoys wearing those things. They’re expensive. They’re uncomfortable. They are extremely high maintenance.
You know what sells cars? You know what will make people WANT to buy your thousand dollar product?
A smile . . . and THESE!
Now I know what you’re thinking, a little over the top. But you know what people are lacking? Smiles . . . and pajamas. Look, I’ll give you a couple of days to think about it, but I’m hoping you’ll see my side of things, even for just a moment. I really am thankful that you make yourself available to me and you have helped me become a better person and taught me some astonishing things about the things I love to do. I simply implore you to consider letting loose. Doctors shouldn’t be the only ones having fun rockin’ the casual wear. I’m only looking out for others. Let love in. Start with Corporate America jammies.
Love,
Amanda
Lover of pajamas and coffee
I just watched Shutter Island and I gotta admit, I feel like a rat in a cage. Seriously, I thought I had the plot nailed down in my head, and it turns out I had certain aspects, but I had NO clue it was going to end the way it did. And the way it did end left me baffled,with so many questions. It kind of reminded me of watching The Prestige and walking away and going, “What just happened?” I’m definitely going to have to watch that one again. I gotta admit, when I first saw the trailer I thought it would be a typical psychological thriller, which I love, but I wasn’t expecting much. But it really surprised me. There were some serious jump moments where I (no joke) jumped back in my seat and put my hand on my heart to “steady” it. This movie is definitely not for the faint of heart—it’s pretty graphic. I’ve always been fascinated with the human mind and behaviors and psychology, so it fed that part of me tonight. All in all, very enjoyable!
One major way I could tell it affected me was that afterwards, I walked across the street to The Jewel Box Cafe, which I now lovingly refer to as Hogwarts . . . cause it seriously looks like it inside . . . and I opened up my laptop and noticed that one of my icons that was normally on my dock was missing. And I seriously was like, “Am I losing my mind? Did I just pretend it was there? What is going on?” I think when a psychological thriller leads you to question your own sanity AFTER the movie is over, it’s done its job. Job well done, Shutter Island, job well done—I salute you Martin Scorsese, Leo DiCaprio, Mark Ruffalo, and Ben Kingsley—you’ve made a quality film
Yesterday was a whirlwind day. As you can tell from the previous post, the morning was filled with tragedy on a broader scale. But my personal afternoon was marked with success, relief, and elation. For the past four months, I’ve been managing a big project for the company I work for. It is a 128 page journal that consists of articles jam-packed into every available space possible to get the maximum content, while still maintaining readability. The thing that made it especially challenging is that the editor-in-chief for this particular journal has been sending all of her edits and corrections via correspondence. She lives on the east coast, and I work on the west coast. And if the time zone issue wasn’t tricky enough, the co-editor lives in another state, not on the west coast, and has been sending in HER edits around the same time. So timing, mixed with conflicting ideas and edits, and a rushed deadline can be very overwhelming! Normally when I work on journals at work, it’s all done in-house, with the editing team readily available to work with me to make things work. This project was almost solely my “baby.” My in-house editors were busy with their own projects, and my bosses were pushing for a speedy release of the journal, while also including their “final say” on the content. This equals A LOT OF CHANGES.
So after a lot of hard work and making it through stressful days, all the while, learning to hone my craft through it all, I was successful in meeting my deadline—even down to the last comma. Right before (no seriously, like 10 minutes before) the courier came to pick up the package, we looked over everything and noticed that we had missed a comma. My boss said it was okay to just ignore it, but my dedication to the project, and need for excellence in my work, forced me to run up the 3 flights of stairs to get to my office, fix the file, reprint the page, and burn a new CD, run it all back downstairs, and package it up for the courier to pick it up. And I got it done JUST in time! I had the BIGGEST adrenaline rush I’ve had in a while. I seriously did a “happy dance” as the courier walked out the office door with our project package in his hands.
So I got the job done, and took off of work early. I decided that it was cause for celebration! One of my absolute favorite places to eat is the Red Robin down by the waterfront where I can sit and enjoy my Clucks & Fries and look out at the beauty of Puget Sound. I got to watch the sunset and then I went for a walk around by the pier, enjoying the sound of the water and the reflection of the lights onto the water. Here are some pictures from yesterday afternoon and evening.
I know I’m hardly the first one to decide I have had all I can stand. It has always been a myth that people have stopped dying for their freedom in this country, and it isn’t limited to the blacks, and poor immigrants. I know there have been countless before me and there are sure to be as many after. But I also know that by not adding my body to the count, I insure nothing will change. I choose to not keep looking over my shoulder at “big brother” while he strips my carcass, I choose not to ignore what is going on all around me, I choose not to pretend that business as usual won’t continue; I have just had enough.
– Joseph Stack
(pilot who crashed his plane into the Austin IRS building this morning)
There are parts of me that wishes I could clone myself. I could clone myself and seek out the most hurt and anguished people and be a friend. Then I realize I am only one person, meant to be that one person, and even though I couldn’t help that man this morning, I can help someone each day so that the “needle never breaks the camel’s back” for that person.
I think it’s safe to say that “life isn’t fair” and that “times are tough” but when I think about the pilot who crashed into the Austin IRS building this morning, I think about what it means to “take matters into your own hands.” The thing about taking matters into your own hands is that you have to realize that most of the time, the only things you’re holding in your own hands are your own bitterness, rage, malice, pain, and bent towards vindication. Your own hands can only hold so much and usually, the things that get left out of your hand include: family, friends, the standard of society, innocent lives, and maybe even that one person that may have helped you out of your situation in a few days time.
After reading the note that Joseph Stack left behind after burning down his own home and crashing his plane into a building, I was left with wonder. So many questions, so many accusations, and so many thoughts about where this leaves our society. I distinctly remember various points in my life when grown-ups would say, “Violence doesn’t solve anything,” “We don’t hit,” “If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.” I don’t know if the blame for Joseph’s behavior is going to be shifted to the sadness of the daily news, or to the recession, or to MTV, or if they will ‘discover’ that his parents were ‘terrible’ parents who never shared those life lessons with their son, and thus will be cast by low-budget actors in an upcoming Lifetime Channel Movie. I personally think it speaks to our ability as human beings to make choices every day—Joseph made or didn’t make many choices along the way and ultimately, his choices led to MAJOR damage. And with today’s events, I feel pain for that one person who doesn’t see this as a tragedy, but as a beacon of hope that one day they can plan out something so that their voice can be heard . . . regardless of who else it affects. I hope that day never comes.
When I was growing up, I did a lot of stupid things. My parents, God bless them, definitely had some issues to work with when it came to me. But I have come leaps and bounds from who I was as a teenager. Through the years, I’ve learned how to grow past mistakes, how to respond when I am mistreated, how to take a few moments to think my choices through. I’d be lying if I said I made ALL the RIGHT choices ALL the time—but I make an effort. I have a lot of help along the way, of course. I just wish Joseph would have let someone in to help him along the way.
To say, “I wish this never would have happened,” is a given. But it’s definitely given me (sadly) yet another opportunity to think about how I’m responding to others around me and how I’m dealing with issues in my life, and who I need to let in, and who I need to help when they can’t help themselves, and where those lines lay.
One of the perks of my job is that from time to time, I get to take breaks and draw! It’s so much fun and very therapeutic. Sometimes when the workload is overwhelming, it’s good to get in a bit of a disconnect. Anyway, I thought I would share some of my fun drawings with you guys 😀
Now QUICK—take a five minute break and just doodle something for FUN!! 😀
I don’t think I’ve done this in a while, but for today’s post, I’m going to link to another blog post that I think is worth reading. Here are things it will do for you (with a 95% GUARANTEE):
1. Make you smile.
2. Make you cry.
3. Make you think about the people in your life that mean the most to you.
4. Make your heart hurt.
5. Put you in the writer’s “shoes” so to speak—it’s very well written
6. Make you cry some more.
7. Make you realize the beauty of life
8. Make you realize that sometimes the best blessings look different than we planned.
9. Make you smile some more.
10. Make you want to share love with someone in need.
(thanks to Kelley for the link)
amo.says 